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deadghosy · 2 months

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THIS DUO AS READERS X HAZBIN HOTEL GANG

prompt: two gen z twins fall into the grasp of hell and the hotel crew as they cause such an entertaining impression.

These two cause so much trouble in one go. Like literally you guys plopped into hell just causing chaos as the pink twin started to set hospitals and buildings on fire as the green twin was just scamming sinners😭.

The twins died looking like their favorite colors, green and pink as the smart one was green and the slight dumb one was wearing pink. The twins even have matching bracelets that have the other’s color. They also died as Gen z’s.

Oddly enough, the pink twin can go into the wrath and pride ring as the green twin and can stay in the pride ring and go into the envy ring.

You two can’t even BE LEFT ALONE HOLY SHIT- LITERALLY CHARLIE HAD YOU TAKE CHARGE IN THE HOTEL ONLY FOR THE BAR TO BE BURNT DOWN AND A HOLE IN THE WALL 😭😭

Alastor found the green twin amusing as they are very quick and smart. Hell they were the one to figure out that Alastor was in a leash when they first met him. So alastor made it his goal to try to trap the green! reader. He also found the pink one amusing, but they were just a nuisance at times

Pink reader and Angel dust is such a funny duo as he seems to look after you since you aren’t good at taking care of your own self which is sad but at least someone cares for you.

“You’re not ascending to godhood. You’re just dehydrated….” “OUT OF MY WAY GAYBOY!” *few minutes later* the pink twin was breathing heavy on the floor. “Hopital..”

I feel like Lucifer would definitely try to adopt the twins as he find them adorable. Like Lucifer had most definitely made a pink and green duck with a magnet that makes the two ducks hold feathers.😭💗

Niffy love the twins equally as they like to hang around with the hotel maid as she shows them how to clean.

Sir Pentious find you two amazing as literally green! Reader overthinks a lot but pink! Reader doesn’t think and just acts head on. So he gets green! Reader to help with his building as pink! Reader just decorates.

The egg boiz love hanging out with the twins as they just walk around and cause havoc inside the hotel and to residents.

Headcannon on pink! Reader knowing how to use and gun and accidentally shooting themselves only to regenerate themselves as everyone panics except their own twin.

I imagine Cherri trying to bring the twins to a club and the green one is like “if you’re bring us, prepare for shit to go down.” And Cherri didn’t believe it until the club is ablaze as pink! Reader just smiled with their sharp teeth showing with their twin beside them having a tired face like. “I told you so.” Cherri’s face was so traumatized at how you did it.

Vaggie most definitely has some rules for you, even a bed time for pink as they are so adhd core 💀 so she need to drain their energy before they set anyone on fire.

It was a dark hellish night as the green twin walked into their shared room for the big dinner. “Hey just double checking, you cleared your calendar for dinner tomorrow night with the staff right? I’m dying to go to that new place like I can’t-” the green twin stops seeing their own twin spacing out. “Oh sorry, dinner, tomorrow, me.” “YAYYY” the pink reader starts to clap excitedly

Husk hates pink! Reader as they are so damn energetic and have no filter. Yeah husk has no filter as well, but pink! Reader has the worst filter ever to the point husk wants to duct tape their mouth.

STOP IMAGINE PINK! READER DRIVING LIKE SPONGEBOB AS GREEN! READER IS READING OFF A MAP SO CALMLY😭😭

“IM DRIVIN THIS HOOEEE” pink yells as green just calmly looks up and point to an exit turn as pink swerves the car as if this shit was Tokyo drift.

The combat the twins is so strange but destructive, like literally green’s combat is martial arts and poison as pink is street fighting but also just weapons like guns and bombs.

The Vee’s fucking hate the twins with a passion as those two are just bad luck for them.

lol I can see pink just bursting into the Vee’s tower on accident as green just waves at the three overlords.

Velvette finds the twins worthy of being models for her, but the thing is when she finally got the twins to meet her. They both accidentally ruined her studio as there was fire on the floor and curtains. HELL EVEN THE FIRE IS ON FIRE?! HOW TF-

Vox had found green amusing at how smart you are with calculations. He thought he could trick you with his hypnotizing power, but nah you poked that bitch’s eyes. He yelled falling to the floor just screaming at green being a bitch and a whole lot of degrading words.

Valentino likes pink..for some reason . It’s because you are pink like Angel dust… but like then his admiration fell so quick when you glitter bombed his whole porn studio.

Pink! Reader was arguing with Vox as green! Reader has a needle ready to drain blood from the tv overlord. “Fuck you, YOU BITCH” “ya mama.” “YA MAMA, with cha bald headed ass.” “Ahh you mad.”

Yeah pink has a restraining order from the Vee’s as green just gets a warning 😭

Pink is a pyro maniac as green is a mad scientist type shit. 🦆

Yeah so the twins lore is that they were in a bad household with a mom who was a stay at home mom and an alcoholic dad that cheats. The parents were very verbal and physically abusive. So the twins only had their self.

I can imagine that green! reader had told pink! Reader a joke and was going to tell another resident only for the pink twin to fuck it up cause they found it so funny.

“Did you know, that 1981 was the year that-” “AAAAaaaAAAAaaAA-”

Tbh green is the reason why Alastor is sometimes scared to talk to them about his plans. Like green would stare at Alastor and Alastor would just sped walk away. 😭😭

The twins troupe is also “calm friend x chaotic friend” cause of course it fits them but really green is also a psycho in a making

Green was the type of kid to burn ants and dissect frogs and animals. As pink also burnt ants but thrown rocks at houses and cars. But they most definitely burnt old houses and thrown hot honey buns at people 😭

“I FEEEL LIKE A FEM QUEEN! I FEEL LIKE FEM QUEEN! I FEEL SO CUNTY!” Is how pink! Reader felt when Angel dust did their makeup as they watched RuPaul‘s drag race series.

Imagine the sibling fights just being so chaotic as they literally have to wear a “get along” shirt lmao 😭

The two siblings literally was playing rock paper scissors when all of a sudden a bomb was heard off in the distance making green immediately looks at pink who just nervously laughs and runs off.

There was a time when pink awakened their hell powers on a Thursday as green was so confused. “Pinkie, how are you doing that?” The green reader says pushing their glasses to their face seeing their twin floating. “I-I-I- I don’t know broccoli, I’m scared.” “Well come down.” “I can’t. I-I-I- I can’t. Get help.” The pink twin says to the green twin as they are floating to the ceiling.

Yeah Lucifer had to take them down as he put a spell on pink! Reader for it to never happen again.

Below the cut I show I imagine then personally💗

Their personalities:

Green! Reader- calm, secretly crazy inside, smart, protective, over thinking, sometimes snappy, just wants to be loved.

Pink! Reader- cunty😘, crazy, starve touched, hyperactive, not focused much, under thinking, destructive.

Their appearance:

Green! Reader- looks like a teen and an adult. Has straight hair with glasses. Possibly have a mole by their cheek or lip but definitely has freckles. They are skinny but curvy as they don’t gain weight much.

Pink! Reader- looks like a young adult and a teen at the same time. Has curly hair with glasses but eye sight isn’t as bad. Has a mole by their eye and has freckled skin. They are slight chubby but more on the thicc side with the right thickness in their body.

Their specific pronouns:

Green! Reader- any, but people usually call them a he/him & she/her

Pink! Reader- she/they and them/her.

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muzanswaifu · 1 year

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Fated Pair

Alpha! Tomioka x Omega! Fem! Reader

18+

Your entire life, you lived as a beta, not having to worry about such tedious things like glands, heats, and instincts. But that all changed when a certain slayer came to town, altering everything as you knew it. It seemed fate had finally brought you together.

Since fated pair won my omegaverse poll, here ya go 👀 Might make a second part in the future just to clarify some things in their relationship...

Big thank you to my beta readers @mistymuichiro & @thosestarry-nights & @astrasolitaris !!!

Warnings: Omegaverse, Smut, Yandere Tendencies, Dub-con, Rut, Heat, Kidnapping, Scenting, Mating Bites, Sex, Vaginal Sex, Face Riding, Cunnilingus, Doggy Style, Rough Sex, Creampie, Knotting, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Impregnation, Dirty Talk, Praise

5k Words

“Go get more water… towels too!”

“Guard the entrance to the block as well - make sure no one comes through-”

“Close the door!”

You could still hear the commotion outside, your family scrambling with commands and precautions like busy bees in a hive. Although if you were in their place, you supposed you would be too.

This was all your fault. None of this would be happening if it weren’t for you. Why did it all have to change?

You were a beta. You were supposed to be a beta. In your family lineage for as long as anyone could remember, everyone either grew to be a beta or an alpha, and even the ladder was quite rare. Your siblings and yourself were always warned to keep your distance from omegas. They were needy, weak, and always brought trouble along with them. Even your father, who was an alpha, biologically programmed to desire an omega, despised them, citing them as nothing but lustful rodents who relied on others to care for them.

At the time, you neither held resentment nor admiration for the secondary gender. If anything, you were grateful. Even when your age of puberty came, you hadn’t needed to deal with the struggles of a heat or rut or anything of the matter. You were simply normal, experiencing the usual growing pains and figure development. You hadn’t worried when your cycle never came, plenty of people blossomed later in life. Life was easier, nobody shamed you, you fit in with the general population, too well. You never could bring yourself to date or fuss over anyone. It wasn’t that you didn’t have crushes, you did, but they never seemed worth any hassle. You couldn’t imagine a future with anyone, nor did you hold any attraction except superficial. They weren’t the one.

But that all seemed to change overnight, your world quite literally flipping over the next morning as a strange feeling overcame you. Your parents warned you all that morning to be careful as there were reports of a monster near the village, so you assumed the feeling of uneasiness was a result of your body’s natural apprehension. But you fell terribly ill within a few hours, hellish cramps overcoming your body and bile spilling out of you to no end. Mother chalked it up to some surge of influenza and the others joined her theory, and you kept your own thoughts to yourself. You’d still never admitted that you’d never gotten your period, and now seemed too late as you’d become an adult already. It was far too late to worry them.

Thankfully the illness had come and gone within a few days, leaving as quickly as it had come. But just when you’d given in to the assumption that it was just a sickness, it’d returned again, far stronger and more potent. You couldn’t even walk then, your body in so much pain that you couldn’t stop throwing up and trembling. You’d genuinely thought you’d been dying, but, yet again, it left you after only a few days. As did the company that had returned to the village. You family was becoming concerned, and you felt far too afraid to admit to them of your fears. Moreover, you didn’t want to speak them into existence.

The third bout of sickness was when a doctor was called in, the worst of your suspicions confirmed. You were an omega, later developed, but developed nonetheless. You worried Father wouldn’t speak to you ever again when he disappeared for several weeks, not a whisper of where he was going, until he’d returned late one night with the reason for his departure - the strongest heat suppressant available in the country. You took it without a second thought, uncaring of the symptoms as you prayed they would free you from this curse of misery. And it seemed to work for some time. You weren’t plagued with crippling pains and aches, you didn't have as many thoughts of depression and anxiety. You thought you were cured.

But it was only a temporary reprieve.

As only weeks later you were burdened yet again with an explosion of suffering, the worst one yet. You spent most hours weeping and crying, begging the gods to let you experience even a moment of peace. Your father seemed to change strategies as he instructed your siblings to go into town and fetch articles of clothing to bring back to you, to find the source of these forcefully induced dry heats. One by one you smelled them, scrunching your nose and cringing at all of them. They smelt disgusting, horrid enough to make you spit up all over again. It’d gotten to the point where you’d sob in Father’s arms and beg him not to make you smell another one, begging for his forgiveness for ruining everything. He just held you tight and pushed another piece of cloth to your nose, asking you if this was the one. You threw up again.

Finally, your youngest brother stumbled in one evening, the color drained from his face and his eyes wide. You wept when you saw him, another test clutched in his quivering fist, knuckles whitening. Slowly he handed it to you, a hand to your neck to force you to take it in. With tears in your eyes you did so, preparing to gag, but the feeling never came.

With a single breath your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, drool collecting on your tongue and threatening to drip down your lip. It smelt magnificent. A delicious combination of sweet rain and fresh moss. Purrs of pleasure came rippling from your throat and you nuzzled against the fabric, the tip of your tongue gently tracing the fibers. All the pain slowly melted away, your brain becoming fuzzy and clean like swabs of cotton. For the first time in forever, you felt truly safe.

Your mother gasped

“Where - who did you get this from?” she croaked.

Your brother gulped. “The - the guy who came ‘c-cause of the monsters…,” he mumbled, “The slayer…”

Everyone stopped and looked at him, their eyes dark and grave.

“H-he came up to me in the square… asking for my scarf - or actually… (y/n)’s scarf…”

Father glared at him. “You idio-”

“Let him finish!” Mother interrupted as she held him back. Your brother just looked down and fiddled with his hands.

“So I gave it to h-him, a-and he seemed to like it, so I took his handkerchief, b-b-but,” he paused to look up at them, “h-he said it didn’t matter… that he’d… pay for her.”

Your father took in breath and sighed, carefully walking over to him, towering over the small boy.

“Were you followed?”

“I-I don’t think s-so…”

“Good. Lock the doors.”

Everyone took shifts to stay up that night, guarding the doors and peeking out the windows for any sign of visitors. You could sense their troubles, but for the most part you kept to yourself, cuddled up against the handkerchief and resting. Despite the brief ease of pain, you still felt the discomfort of your heat, still missing something but not quite sure what yet.

There were no signs of any trouble for several days, until the night you woke to hushed voices and sounds of scurrying. Listening in, you quickly gathered what was happening.

The man - no - the alpha was here. Father went outside to talk to him. Although you were pretty sure there was no talking involved… more likely there was yelling… maybe some threatening.

After a few painful minutes, he came back in, a deep scowl painting his face. He also carried with him a multicolored robe, half red, half tessellated. He threw it to you before walking to the main room where the rest of your family was. You quickly huddled over it and started cuddling. It smelled perfect.

“... What did he say?” Mother hesitantly questioned.

“Bastard is stubborn. Says he’s not leaving without her. Told him ‘tough luck’. Nobody is leaving until he does.”

Your siblings all groaned, resuming their posts of either guarding the door or taking their turn of sleep. Despite not being yourself, you still felt the guilt of it eat at you. As soon as they left, your mother leaned closer to him.

“Dear… are you sure this is what’s best? Look at her - she’s miserable… we all are.”

He just shook his head at her.

“He’s not taking her. Not my daughter.”

The following days were gruesome. For everyone. No one was allowed to leave other than the occasional grocery run. No one could go out to their individual jobs. Even hobbies were off the table as every hour of the day was spent protecting the house. Protecting you.

This was the longest heat you’d had yet. It was as if your body knew your alpha was nearby, waiting for him to come claim you before you were allowed to calm down. The dry spell was wearing off, the sharp pains being transformed into uncomfortable cramps that made you desperate to wrap your legs around something. Your every entrance ached for company, feeling empty and barren without the presence of your alpha’s taste and essence. But regardless of your buzzed mind, you were still you enough to be too embarrassed to complain about that discomfort.

But even that part of your dignity was wearing thin. Every day without your carnal needs being tended to was just multiplying them. They all tried to give you privacy to take care of yourself, but it was simply impossible to leave you alone for too long. You needed to have eyes on you at all times in case the worst happened. In case he found you. So you settled for wrapping yourself up in his clothing. How was it possible for a single man to smell so edible? You found yourself wondering on the quiet days what he looked like, where he lived, how many pups he wanted. The primal part of you was oh so desperate to please him, regardless of how much you knew about each other. The omega part of your mind assured you every hour of the day that this was fate. That you were meant for each other. That you needed each other.

But some part of you was still skeptical. No one else had felt right, so why would he?

Everything would be fine… within a few days, surely the standoff would break. The man had to leave sometime. Regardless of the heartbreak such a thought brought you, it was what was best for everyone.

You were awoken one night to a sudden crash of noise outside your room, followed by voices bickering. Vaguely you could make out the voices of your parents, followed by one you didn’t recognize. One that sent warmth right to the core of you. Within moments there seemed to be an altercation, two thuds hitting the ground. The sound was short lived as silence followed soon after. Your heart raced with the footsteps that slowly crept to your door, your arms hugging your scented jacket to your chest. The steps were ceased with more conflict, another bout of harsh words spoken before several more thumps followed. Like they were nothing.

Frantically, you crawled into your closet, quietly shutting the door and shaking as you curled into yourself. You tried your best not to cry, not to make a sound, but you were scared, horrified. Every conscious cell in your brain was screaming at you to run while the other half were begging you to get pupped. Your breathing stopped as soon as the door slid open.

His footsteps treaded carefully across the wooden floor, taking their sweet time to take in the scenery of your room. To find you. A subtle trill of growls could be heard along with the creaking of the floorboards, adding to your horror. He seemed to stand still for a few moments, taking in long drawls of your scent before heading straight to your hiding place. You froze.

You braced yourself as the closet door was carefully, slowly pushed open, your eyes shut tight and pouring with tears. A sob escaped you as the moonlight poured in to shower you. You were done for, you were sure of it.

A gentle hand whispered along your hairline, tucking the hair out of your eyes.

“It’s okay kit, I’ve got you… I’ve got you.”

The sound of his voice was like that of an angel, soft and pleasant to the ear. Shyly you looked up from your lap, curious to find the owner of such a song, and you were not at all disappointed. Velvety, fluffy dark hair, a large muscular build, deep azul eyes. You could get lost in those eyes. You so desperately wanted to.

You were confident then that you had died and standing right in front of you was an angel ready to take you to heaven. No other explanation would suffice. He was simply too beautiful to truly exist. A rush of slick pooled down your thighs and you whined. Your hands were reaching up toward him before you could stop them, his own sinewy arms coming down to wrap under your arms to hike you up. You whimpered as you were lifted to his chest, looking back sadly toward your abandoned coat. He promptly leaned over and snatched it up. “I know, omega, I see,” he mumbled into your ear, sending a thrill up your spine.

He draped your haori, his haori really, over your shoulders so it would cover your nude back before he headed back out the door. You didn’t know where he was taking you, nor did you care. All you cared about was getting more of his scent into your body as you smelled and licked at the gland in his neck that he had so gracefully exposed for you when he tore aside his uniform.

As he carried you out, you could see the unconscious bodies of your family lying on the ground, not one of them with a single scratch. He must’ve knocked them out somehow. All except your father, who still seemed to be attempting to get up. He rambled angrily at your alpha, words no one could understand as they slurred from his mouth. Your alpha stopped in the doorway to your home, turning to face your struggling father who glared from his place on the floor. You looked down at him sadly and tears welled in your eyes.

“I left my payment on the table. We’ll see you again… sometime," Alpha spoke, not a hint of sympathy in his eyes. Not even when he turned you around did he seem to be riddled with guilt, a mewl falling from your lips as shape canines pricked at the nape of your neck, sinking deeper and deeper until you were howling from the pain, your vision going stark white as you were claimed. You passed out not a moment after, your alpha licking his lips of your sweet blood.

When you awoke you were in a house you didn’t recognize, in a bed that wasn’t yours, but you had a hard time caring as everything smelt purely of him. His scent fermented in the air you breathed like a fine wine, getting you drunk off the mere smell. Perhaps it was because he sat only a few feet away at the foot of the bed, as if guarding you from the outside. It made you feel that much safer. As soon as he saw you rise from your slumber, his pupils grew, the cautionary slits becoming dilated orbs. You pouted when he backed off the mattress, his hand pointing toward you, as if commanding you to stay in place.

“Nest, omega.”

The command rang in your ears like an alarm, your mind quickly working overtime to complete the task. Your alpha must’ve prepared as there were several piles on the floor composed of blankets, pillows, and clothing, all perfect for your nest. You set about collecting the one that you deemed fit, weaving them together over the bed like a second layer. It was like your body instinctively knew what to do as you not once had to overthink how to craft your nest, your hands doing all the work while your mind wondered. When you were finally finished, you sat at the center of it like an obedient dog, looking to your owner for your next order.

Your heart soared when he softly smiled at you, briskly walking over and cupping your cheek, running his nose along your jawline. His skin touching yours felt like fireworks were going off inside of you. Heat rose to your face as you then realized he was completely naked as well.

“You’re such a good girl… good omega. It’s time for you to complete the bond,” he murmured as he joined you in your nest, setting himself in front of you and moving his fluffy, long hair to the side, exposing his nape. Your own mating bite throbbed like a reminder on your neck as you eagerly latched your little teeth to his skin, biting as hard as you could until blood filled your mouth. It tasted sweet. You licked your lips as you pulled away, blushing at the indent it left in his skin, showing your marking of him. The throbbing eventually faded away into nothingness, paving the way for a heady pleasure that reached from your head to your toes. You felt complete, like a part of you was missing this entire time and you just hadn’t realized it. Every sense of struggle and rebellion inside you vanished, and you collapsed back onto the bed.

“Alphaaa…” you moaned, writhing in your nest with a newly awakened pleasure, one that made the emptiness in your womb all the more noticeable. Pups. You needed pups.

“Get up, omega. You’re going to sit on my face,” he leisurely commanded, staring down at you with possession and licking his lips. Your body moved on its own, shifting to the side so alpha could lay in your place while you straddled his head. Embarrassment still managed to weasel its way inside of you. What if he didn’t like the color? The smell? The taste? For once, your brain and your omega were both anxious about the same thing.

He seemed to notice your apprehension as took a deep breath of scent, growling lowly and dragging you down to properly seat yourself in his mouth. You cried out as he dragged his tongue between your slick folds, settling the tip on your clit and bringing it into his mouth to suck. Your legs trembled on either side of his head, your hands falling to clutch at his locks to brace yourself. His own paw wrapped around your ass, guiding you to properly grind yourself against his tongue while he enjoyed you. Sounds of rapture tore from you, falling upon his eager ear like music from the gods. Slick poured down his throat like an elixir, coating his tongues and messily dripping down the sides of his mouth. He ate from you like you were a ripened fruit, abundant with juice and teeming with nectar ready to be plucked and devoured.

Your grief of emptiness quickly fell to the back of your mind as you focused on the divine ecstasy of being eaten, your sex swollen and sensitive as alpha relentlessly took what he needed from you. He shamelessly groaned into your heat, openly expressing how pleased he was with what you had to offer. He cursed every so often, spreading your lips open with two fingers and pressing his nose close to smell your feminine scent. Those same two fingers were quick to sneak into you, spearing you open on his thick digits, all to prepare you for something much bigger. It didn’t take you long to come, juices leaking out of you generously as you clenched on his thrusting fingers and cried out. He still rocked you upon his face as you came down from your high, licking up every messy drop from you regardless of your sensitivity. You bit back your tears and let him do as he pleased, so very eager to please your alpha. You’d be in agony without him so the least you could do was feed him.

You turned back after a moment to distract yourself from the overstimulation, desperate for something to cling to. Your gaze instantly landed on the cure for all your agony.

His cock stood tall and proud between his strong thighs, the tip flushed with color and large veins popping all over it. It was so thick… so long… it was going to tear you apart so easily… you’d never wanted anything more in your life. You drooled as you looked back at it, a renewed vigor alighting in your cunt. Especially when your eyes lingered down to the base of it, the beginnings of a bulbous knot taking root there, preparing to plug you up so you can keep all his little babies warm. You salivated at the thought.

Finally, alpha had his fill, pressing several soft kisses to your pussy before unraveling you from his face and setting you aside. Your belly stirred as you watched his cock bob between his legs as he rose up, his muscles straining beautifully like strings on a harp as he moved. You wanted nothing more than to crawl in his lap and lavish him with attention, worship your alpha like he so deserved for taking care of you so well. But your body refused to move, clinging to his every word and awaiting his command. You watched hungrily as he stood and stretched his arms and neck, likely sore from lying about for so long. He laughed softly as he caught you staring, your eyes staring lovingly between his thighs as you panted like bitch in heat. After all, you were one.

“Down,” he told, his voice imposing and husky, “Spread your legs.”

You didn’t even have to think as your body did what it was told, lying on your back obediently in the center of your nest and opening your legs. He grinned meanly.

“Not that way. Present for me.”

You whined as you rolled to your front, planting your face in the sheets and raising your ass high in the air, presenting your little hole for breeding.

He chuckled and climbed in the nest behind you, running a warm hand along your spine.

“That’s a good girl. So obedient for me… You want my kits don’t you?” he crooned.

You cried out into the bedding, raising your hips higher and wagging your ass at him. He tutted at you and kept you still with hand, leering down at you with predatory eyes like a fox to a rabbit.

“Puh-please alpha… it hurts…,” you sobbed, sniffling weakly and trying to press your thighs together to ease the ache inside of you. He easily pried them open again, slipping his swollen cock between your legs and dragging it across your cunt and belly.

“I asked you a question, omega. Answer me.”

“Y-yes, alpha!,” you cried, biting your fist with frustration, “I-I want your kits… s-so bad…”

He chuckled again with approval and playfully rocked his member against you. “You do, don’t you… I’d bet this is your first time wanting anything like this, isn’t it?” You furrowed at his question, plagued by its accuracy. He seemed to take enjoyment with your confusion.

“I was in a similar situation myself,“ he muttered, taking his cock away from your legs and pressing the leaking tip between your folds, making you shiver. “I didn’t want anyone, didn’t need anyone, I thought it just wasn’t meant to be.”

He slowly pitched his hips forth into your tightness, stealing your breath away as he split you open. Despite the abundance of slick, the stretch hurt more than anything, tears dripping down your cheeks as you whimpered. He only stopped when he was balls deep, every inch of his cock swaddled by your plush insides. You swore you could feel him all the way to your brain.

“Didn’t - didn’t think I’d ever meet anyone I’d wanna mate with,” he grunted, nearly whining from how tight you were, “But then I was called to that small, little village, could smell you a mile away… took me weeks to find you…”

“Please d-don’t move yet alpha,” you begged feebly.

“I know kit, I know… ‘s your first knot, I’ll be gentle,” he promises, easing your worries as you went limp into the bedding.

He waited patiently for your pain to ease, running his hands along your sides and petting your thighs. Regardless of the hurt, slick gushed from you due to such nurturing.

“Asked your father to give you up… even offered him money, but he refused. So, I had to take you. Alpha knows what’s best, don’t I?”

“Y-yes, alpha,” you faintly murmured, your body heating up as you were molded around him like clay.

He softly smiled at you and rolled his hips, churning his cock into your guts. You shook with the sensation, so sure you would burst any moment with how full you were. Every second he moved, the wetter you became, slick sticking to his thatch of pubic hair and coating his heavy balls. The ache of penetration melted away with every second, pleasure filling the gaps it left.

His hand reached under you and pressed at your belly, rubbing the bulge he’d left in you.

“Gonna leave my pups right here, right where you need them… need you to keep them warm until they make it to your belly.”

You hardly even heard him as you drooled into the nest, moaning and mewling like a little whore. The pain was hardly there anymore, euphoria overwhelming you as you eagerly ground back into him, desperate for more of what your alpha could give you. Taking the hint, he began truly thrusting into you, pulling out several inches before shoving it all back into you, bullying your cervix into submission. Your cries of pleasure only increased in volume and frequency, filling the room along with the sloppy noises of your union. You wanted his cubs. You needed his cubs.

His knot, you realized. His knot was the answer to everything, the solution to all your problems. Without it you were just a hollow shell of an omega. You came from just the epiphany, squeezing tight around him and squirting slick into his lap.

“Kn-n-not,” you whined, “kn-not… knot… knot!” You were going to die if you didn’t get it, you could feel it!

He laughed cruelly behind you, “You want my knot, omega?” His hips moved faster, pounding you into the bed and ruining the nest you worked so hard to make. You didn’t care. There were more important things at stake.

“Yes!” you pleaded, sniffling pathetically and digging your nails into the many blankets surrounding you. He growled darkly and loomed over you, threading his hand around the back of your skull and shoving you into the mattress, limiting your air intake. He violently pistoned into you, using you as nothing but a hole to breed his cum into, precisely what you wanted. You squealed for him, happily gave him free use of your form to use for his benefit, anything was worth it if you got his babies.

You could feel his knot grow as it pressed in and out of your hole, thickening furiously and stretching you beyond repair, ensuring that not a drop of his precious essence would exceed it. A dopey smile was plastered on your face as you let him use you, your hair messy and tousled as you were buried into the bed.

Finally his knot threatened full capacity, popping in and out of you painfully before locking inside, swelling to its full size and keeping you in place. You wailed with bliss, your climax a mere hair's breadth away as you awaited for a single push to make you tumble over the edge.

Your alpha panted viciously behind you, grunting and groaning as your cunt milked him unforgivably, The moment the first wave of cum filled you, you saw stars. Fireworks of scorching white lit up behind your eyes, blinding you and making you bawl. You’d never felt such bliss, such elation, it was bordering on the edge of painful as one high bled into another and another and another. Wave after wave of piping hot sperm was emptied inside you, filling out your belly and gushing into your womb. His large knot promised not a drop would go to waste as every ounce was kept in your pussy, filling you to brim so much so that you could nearly taste it.

You weakly tried to crawl away as it became too much for you, you couldn’t take it anymore. But even without his unrelenting hold on you, his knot wouldn’t allow you to go anywhere.

“No, omega,” he growled harshly, “Warm my kits that you begged for. You aren’t going to leave here without my litter growing inside you.”

He leaned over and pinched his teeth around your scruff, rendering you useless as you went limp underneath him. It was too much, you couldn’t take it all. But what choice did you have as he kept you in place, taking load after load of his potent seed into your womb, exactly what you had asked for. You pathetically wept against your arms as your belly was filled.

As was an omega’s fate, regardless of what was planned for.

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to-thelakes · 3 months

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escape artist

pairing; frank castle x fem!reader

summary; your orange cat was a menace but at least your gorgeous neighbour - Frank - got to help you out.

warnings; fluff, reader has an orange cat, slight au

notes; okay so this is day 5 of my fluffbruary fics! I'm currently working on day 6 so that should be out later tonight! this fic was so sweet and it makes me wanna write a friends to lovers frank castle suburbia au fic. like especially with this reader?? i feel like it'd be so cute so please let me know if any of you would like more of these two! but enjoy <3

ao3

The neighbourhood was quiet when you woke up. The sun was filtering through your sheer curtains as you blinked awake. The familiar warmth of your cat sitting at your feet on the bed was gone and there were none of the usual yowls for food that woke you. You turned over, rubbing your face with your hand but when you looked across the dimly lit room, there was no evidence of your menace of an orange kitty.

It was just you. No cat. Your eyebrows furrowed and you shoved your sheets back, checking under the bed. There was nothing and then you realised. Your window. You had left it open. The screen had been loose and when you pulled the curtains back, you saw it. Sugarpuff had pulled the screen back and escaped.

“That goddamn escape artist,” You cursed under your breath as you stepped back from the window. It wasn’t the first time she had done this. You were told that orange cats were trouble but Sugarpuff was worse than any you had come across. You loved her despite it all but she was an absolute menace. You grabbed your crocs on the way to the front door, snatching the treats up from the side table. This was a routine now.

That was the one good thing about living in suburbia, early mornings didn’t mean hellish traffic. When you had lived in the city, there would be cars rushing by and Sugarpuff would - to put it bluntly - be dead by now. But in suburbia, she usually came running to the sound of you shaking the bag of treats.

“Sugarpuff!” You called from your front porch. The early morning sun had you wincing, your eyes hadn’t expected the sudden change in light but making sure Sugarpuff got back to you safe was worth any pain. You shook the bag of treats and waited. But there was no sound of familiar pawsteps. No Sugarpuff. You frowned, “Sugarpuff! Where are you?” You called again, stepping down off the porch and looking around. You shook the bag of treats again, “I have treats for you, baby. Just come here.” If it was any other time of day, you would have rather died than call out like that but it was early. Everyone was likely still asleep, having a lazy Sunday in.

Then you heard it. A whiny meow and you recognised it instantly.

“Where are you, baby? Sugarpuff, come on. I’ll give you a treat,” You called as you walked across the pathway of your front lawn. Then you spotted her. Your insane orange cat was perched on top of one of the trees. Her paws were pressed forward and it seemed like she kept trying to climb down but she was too scared. You stared at Sugarpuff, completely baffled by her.

“What are you doing up there, huh?” You said as you walked up to the bottom of the tree. Sugarpuff meowed out pitifully towards you again and you sighed. You ran your fingers through your hair before glancing around, “Stay right there, baby. I’ll get you down.” Sugarpuff meowed again and you pocketed the bag of treats before heading back towards the house. You had stepladders under the stairs which would hopefully reach you to her and she could come safely into your arms.

“You okay, ma’am?” The gruff voice of Frank Castle made you jump. He had moved in a few houses down and although you’d welcomed him with some cookies, that was the extent of your interactions. He seemed sweet enough and he had been helping Mrs Klein, an elderly woman in the neighbourhood, with tasks around the house. She had lost her husband last year and he seemed more than happy to give her support. It was sweet but you didn’t know much about him other than the small snippets from Mrs Klein.

You certainly hadn’t expected him to be up at this time on a Sunday morning and you whirled back around, he was dressed in running gear. His hair was sticking to his forehead, sweating dripping down the side of his face. He looked exhausted yet there was a soft look on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, just my cat. The orange menace got stuck in the tree,” You gestured vaguely towards the oak tree. Frank chuckled and glanced over, spotting the orange furball.

“Do ya need help?” He asked. You shook your head.

“I’m just gonna grab the stepladders and then I should be able to reach her. She’s a fucking idiot,” You explained as you stepped backwards, an amused smile spreading across your face. He nodded and you headed into the house.

When you came back with stepladders in hand, you hadn’t expected Frank to still be outside but that’s where he was. Instead, you found him standing at the bottom of the tree and he was talking to Sugarpuff in a soft, sweet tone; you honestly hadn’t even thought he was capable of it.

“Ya pretty lady is gonna get you down but ya gotta stop running out on her,” He said. Sugarpuff meowed back in response, clearly unimpressed by Frank’s assertion. You cleared your throat and Frank’s head snapped back, “Thought I’d keep her company while ya got the ladder,” He explained. You smiled and gently placed the stepladder down.

“She’ll appreciate it more than me,” You said as you adjusted the ladder so that it was firmly pressed into the dirt. The last thing you needed was to fall over in your pyjamas and crocs. You stepped up onto it and stood up on your tiptoes, just about able to reach Sugarpuff. But she didn’t seem like she wanted to be picked up and shied away, stepping backwards away from the edge, “Are you shitting me, Sugarpuff? Come here.” Frank chuckled below you, one hand resting on the ladder and keeping it steady as you stood on your tiptoes, desperately trying to reach out for her.

“Want me to try?” He asked curiously when he noticed that your attempts were futile. You sighed and tried to lure Sugarpuff forward but she didn’t seem to respond to any of it. You let out a huff of annoyance before getting down from the stepladder.

“Be my guest. She’s a fucking menace,” You said, exasperated. Frank chuckled and you switched places. Within seconds, Sugarpuff had let him pick her up and he stepped down from the stepladder. She settled against his chest and you watched in utter disbelief, “Fucking traitor,” You whispered towards the orange menace. Frank was grinning as he stroked Sugarpuff.

“D’you want her?” He asked, meeting your gaze. You sighed and rubbed your face.

“Could you take her inside while I bring the stepladder in? Don’t want her trying another fucking escape act,” You requested. Frank nodded and he gestured for you to go first. You carried the stepladders in and put them under the stairs again while Frank continued to stroke Sugarpuff, “Can you keep a hold of her a sec?” You asked. Frank let out a noise of agreement while you headed to your bedroom and closed the window. That menace was not going to escape again.

When you returned to the hallway, your screen door had been pushed to and Frank was sitting on the floor, stroking Sugarpuff as she rolled over. It was clear that she was loving the new attention and you were honestly in disbelief. Sugarpuff usually hated anyone that wasn’t you and she hated men the most. She constantly hissed at the mailman and any delivery drivers who dared to get too close to the windows. But it was different with Frank, it seemed

“Thank you for rescuing her. She’s a menace,” You said as you leant against the side table by the front door. You put the treats back on the side and he shrugged.

“S’all good.” The tension that had been in your shoulders since you woke up seemed to release as you took in the sight of Frank. He was so calm, stroking Sugarpuff like she hadn’t just nearly given you a heart attack at half 5 in the morning.

“Can I offer you breakfast?” You asked curiously. Sugarpuff seemed to recognise that word and she rolled away from Frank and got up on her paws again, “She definitely wants it. So, you wanna join us?” Frank looked at Sugarpuff and then at you, his face stoic. From that look alone, you had a guess what his answer would be.

“I would love to but I gotta finish my run and get back to Amy,” Frank explained as he clambered back up to his feet. You nodded your head, trying to brush off the sting of rejection. You knew that it wasn’t serious, it didn’t mean anything.

“Of course, thank you again. If she ever runs away again, I know who to call,” You said, forcing a smile onto your face, “I’m gonna go and give her some food so you can escape. Thank you, really. It means a lot.” Frank didn’t know what to say so he simply nodded and sent you a warm smile. That smile soothed the rejection a little as you headed into the kitchen.

Sugarpuff followed you in and when you put the wet food in a bowl, she happily began to munch down on it; while you washed your hands. It was a couple more moments of sorting out her supply of dry food and refilling her water fountain before you heard the front door close.

You found yourself frowning as you returned back to the fridge to pick up your breakfast supplies. You knew it was ridiculous to be upset at something so simple but Frank was endearing and Sugarpuff was usually avoidant of men. If even Sugarpuff liked him then she knew that he was a good one which made you want to know him.

It wasn’t until after breakfast that you wandered back into the hallway and on the side table there was a note. You had abandoned some scraps of paper that you used to make a quick shopping list. But among the blank scraps, one of the pieces of paper had a note scribbled across it. The handwriting was scraggly but you were pretty sure it said ‘Can’t call me if you don’t have my number’ followed by a string of numbers. Your jaw dropped slightly before you glanced at Sugarpuff.

“Thanks, buddy,” You mumbled before picking up the note and heading back into your room to put it into your phone.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #frank castle x you #frank castle fluff #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x female reader #the punisher fluff #the punisher x reader #fluffbruary #reader-insert

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arabellasleopardcoat · 7 months

Text

Bouquet of Violets (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: You are happy in your marriage, even if your husband can be quite hellish. It all starts to go wrong when a secret admirer shows up.

Warnings: Angst! Fluff! All the feelings! And yeah, mature language and topics. Canon character death (Not Aemond)

A/N: Hopelessly romantic (delusional) reader! meets Aemond. Based on a song I grew up listening. The girls that get it, get it.

Aemond, unlike you, remembers the first time the two of you met. You wore your hair down, back then. It cascaded down your back in the ways girl's hair often did before they flowered, unstyled and wild.

You must have been nine, or ten years old. He was twelve and having a temper tantrum, hiding in the corners near the throne room. Your father was in an audience with King Viserys, while you and your mother explored the Red Keep. Aemond had never found out what the meeting was about, nor did he care.

Your mother was dressed in brightly colored robes, matching your father’s. You were still dressed in the frocks of childhood. Your small, bony shoulder, had hit him right on the ribs as your mother walked you down the hallway, and Aemond had been ready to give you the tongue lashing of your life. Yet, something had halted him.

When you had bumped into him, you had raised your gaze, to meet his. Back then, he didn’t wear the eye patch, the scar tissue too raised to do so. Instead of flinching back at the gruesome sight of the marred flesh, as most people did, you had offered him a kind smile.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to.” Your sweet smile lit up your whole face. You were not the prettiest girl he had ever seen, all awkward limbs and missing a tooth. But you were the kindest. As you fell back into step with your mother, clutching your doll, Aemond could not help but be charmed by you.

So many years have passed that Aemond does not recall what your mother and you were talking about. What he does recall are another two things: First, that you were sheltered. You referred to a pet of some sorts as your friend. Second, you were clearly hung up on the notion of marriage.

Later, he would realize that The Stranger had not touched your family yet. While you might have been familiar with the notion of death, as many children were, but had not fully grasped the troubles of mortality. That was why you were concerned over the thought of what would happen to your pet when you married.

Your mother replied something along the lines of them going with you, but the doubt was clear in her tone. She was uncertain about the prolonged longevity of your childhood companion.

Sometimes Aemond thinks of how much you must have wept when they passed. The idea of you being so distraught over something you loved makes his heart ache in a weird way.

Darkly, he thinks of how you will react once he is dead. He knows his chance of surviving this are low, especially now. Will he merit as many tears as your pet did?

The words your mother last spoke before the two of you disappeared down the hallway were forever etched in his memory.

“The man who loves you will respect everything you love and hold dear. Remember that.”

You came to him with no pet. But he would have taken in an entire farm if you had.

The next time the two of you had crossed paths, Aemond had liked you even more. You were beautiful. Having long left behind the styles of childhood, your hair was worn up as a proper lady. It made it easier to admire your eyes, magnetizing and intelligent.

You were fond of reading and writing. When he saw you again, your nose was buried into a book. It was not philosophy, or history, or any useful subject, really. You read love stories, fairy stories and all sorts of things. Literature and poetry and children’s tales all rolled into one.

It was your mother, who encouraged that passion of yours. Despite being married to a man who was much older than her, and less educated, she had found happiness in him. She looked at the world in a rather unique way. One you had inherited.

You had been taught to read at an early age. According to your mother, education was the greatest equalizer between men and women, even if she didn’t voice it around your father. He didn’t know his letters very well, and so, had little clue about what books you choose to bury your nose in. If he had known, he would have disapproved.

Most men would have, truly. No one wanted young maidens to get unrealistic ideas about how marriage was supposed to go. Yet, when Aemond himself had the chance to put a stop to it, he found himself unable to.

If Aemond was to be honest with himself, he would have said he enjoyed it. The way your face would get all dreamy, your sighs so sweet, as you progressed on your reading and imagined a love like the ones in your books. Perhaps it had been the reason, in some misguided attempt to appeal to that side of you, he started doing this.

Your second meeting, which you thought had been the first, had not been due to chance. When Aemond was told it was time to marry, the choice came to your family or the Baratheons. He had never been one to protest his duties, no matter how opposed he was to it. But on this, he put forth his own selfish conditions. Aemond would marry you and no one else.

His mother had had to insist to your parents, unwilling to give up their precious daughter in times of political unrest. It was no secret to anybody that upon the death of King Viserys, things could turn ugly. It made your family wary of marrying you to Aemond.

Never before had he cursed his parentage so much. By then, Aemond had not seen you in years, but he knew you were the only choice for him. Kind and unafraid at ten, you could have only grown into a wonder.

And you did. The more he gazed at you, during that second encounter, the more he discovered. Unfortunately, Aemond had not been taught how to speak with maidens, much less one he wanted so badly.

Unused as his lips were to speaking kind words or flowery speech, he found himself in absolute terror of doing or saying the wrong thing. When he had wanted something in the past, he simply commanded it. Aemond was not used to wanting to keep a woman, but he guessed it took more effort than that.

His mother berated him all the way home. In his fear of his words upsetting, he had ended up not saying anything at all.

“You picked her yourself, Aemond, and barely showed excitement over it. The poor girl must think you hate her.”

And you probably did. Aemond could tell that you felt your encounters were awkward, but you slowly started getting used to him. What charmed him the most had been that never once you were afraid.

It ended up becoming a routine. Sort of a play date, but for adults. Set up by your hopeful parents, you would meet each other weekly and sit in silence. Each time, you would walk in with a pep in your step, wearing pretty gowns and smiling.

You would try to engage him in conversation, but he felt too self-conscious for it. It didn't phase you. You suffered through exactly two rounds of awkward conversation before starting to bring books. Sometimes, they were two, one for him and one for you. But his favorite times were when you brought only one and read aloud to him.

You had a very pleasing voice. You pronounced your words carefully, and in an even tone. And you would always ask for his opinions on the chapter when you finished. It made conversation much easier.

Any other woman would feel unhappy at having to go through such efforts. Astoundingly, not you. Overall, you seemed happy, and it puzzled Aemond to no end. Asking you had not proven very enlightening either.

“Of course I am happy.” And you had given him a smile so bright, he was convinced you were not actually your parent's daughter, but rather, the daughter of some old god of the light. “We are a good match. We like books. And you are a Prince, good with the sword, and very learned. Why wouldn't I be happy?”

Practical. No matter how romantic the books you read, or how magic the stories you enjoyed, your answer had been purely practical. You deserved more. A loud love story, like the ones in your books, and not a quiet life, spent in the shadows of a man who could barely pay her a compliment.

You gave a little spin, awed at the way your skirt moved and spread. It was the softest cloth you had ever felt, in cream and gold. Queen Alicent had gifted it to you along with many other pieces for your trousseau. You were to marry a Prince, and so, no expense was spared in updating your garments and linens.

What an honor it was, to have such a caring mother-in-law. Having witnessed the poor relationship between your mother and grandmother, you were thrilled over it. You had heard Queen Alicent had asked for you specifically, believing your temper to be a good match for her son. Since the announcement of the betrothal, she had been nothing but doting, if a bit overly worried about his treatment of you.

And Prince Aemond. You truly had no complaints. He was a tad too stoic for your liking, but he was never unkind to you. Despite the rumors about his fearsome character, you had found him to be very handsome.

Your first impression of Aemond was that he was tall. He was all long vertical lines in black and white. A study in contrasts, if you wish. One that, were you an artist, would have your hands itching for some coal. The only pop of color was his eye, a pale blue that shone on his handsome face.

He lacked the boyishly handsome features most men your age had. Instead, much like art, he was divisive. The eye patch that should lessen his appearance, only contributed to his uniqueness. There was something in the way he smiled, too. Something that hinted to something darker, dormant under the surface.

It was both attractive and intimidating. His stoic, aloof nature reminded you a lot of the leading men of the books you read. Your knowledge of that sort of man, through literature and observation, hinted to you that your betrothed must be more than met the eye.

What sort of passions and secrets must be hiding under his cool facade? You could not wait to find out. You imagined growing old with him, slowly learning his secrets and tells, just like your mother had done with your father.

The story of your parents' betrothal and marriage was one you knew well. As a child, you asked to hear it every night before bed. Your mother had been engaged to him being quite young, while he was already a man. He had been patient with her, but not very affectionate. Slowly, she had worn down his defenses, and gained his trust. It had taken years, with your father being a very gruff man. But they were the most loving couple you had ever met.

You yearned for something like that. A love that was built on mutual respect and trust, something that grew with you and filled your house with children and laughter. And with Aemond, you could not help but think that it would be possible. Wasn't he, too, a cold man who treated his bride kindly but never with affection?

You smiled at your reflection. You made a lovely bride if you said so yourself. Eyes full of hopes and expectations for your future marriage and the family that you would soon start, face glowing in happiness. One day, you said to yourself, as your Lord Father came to escort you towards the Sept, I will tell this story to my daughter.

Prince Aemond waited for you at the altar. It was a small gathering, your wedding. There were his siblings, mother, and grandfather and your parents. Your stomach tightened up in nervousness and excitement. You hoped he found you as beautiful as you found him.

When his eyes met yours, he gave you a small little smile. Secret, and barely there. You felt tears starting to well up in your eyes. You were so nervous, but so happy. This was the beginning of your new life, you could feel it.

You finally reached him. Aemond seemed startled at your tears, his hands coming to clasp yours almost in instinct. You gave him a bright smile. How kind, your betrothed was. He might have trouble expressing it, but for this, no words were needed.

You could see your nerves reflected on his face. Your hands squeezed harder. Aemond mimicked the gesture. There was a sense of understatement there that had previously been absent from your encounters. During the whole ceremony, neither of you let go or stopped looking at the other. As he leaned in to kiss you, you met him halfway.

This kiss had featured in your dreams for quite a while. As a young girl, when your lessons with your Septa got particularly boring, you daydreamed about the day you would marry. In your head, it was always perfect, and the kiss felt magical. You were a bit embarrassed to admit it, but once you met Aemond, your daydreams turned a bit less innocent.

The kiss fulfilled one of your fantasies, and left the other lacking. Aemond gently cradled your face in his hands and kissed you, very tenderly. His lips felt slightly dry, but he kept his motions gentle and sweet. It was a perfect as your childhood self had imagined, with the guests even clapping at the end. Unfortunately, it was just as innocent.

Considering that, and the fact that Aemond had demanded there not to be a bedding ceremony, you had correctly guessed your wedding night would be spent on your own.

The consummation of your marriage would be a challenge in itself. Aemond didn’t seem too keen on touching you with a ten-foot pole, and you weren’t sure of how one should bring up the topic.

Despite it, you were happy. Your only task was hanging on his arm at important feasts, which were few and far in between. His father’s declining health meant there was little to celebrate.

Your days often went without even seeing your husband, but you were never lonely. There were gardens to be walked, and books to be read. There were even tiny, blonde children, that you could chase around in the gardens and tickle. They were not yours, but Princess Helaena's and Prince Aegon's, yet they shared the striking silver hair your husband had. Looking at them, tiny sticky hands and still smelling like babies, you could imagine the future with your husband.

You could spend hours playing with them, or having tea with the Queen. You enjoyed trailing after her, she was always very kind. Frequently, you wondered how she and Aemond could be so alike yet so different.

The only thing that broke your routine were the times Aemond requested your presence.

“Milady.” Your handmaid said, stepping lightly inside your chambers. “The Prince has requested that you go to him.”

Instantly, dread and excitement pooled in your stomach. As a young lady, you were both fearful of the act and excited by it. Too often, you had heard it was something hurtful, but that it marked the change into womanhood. When Aemond called, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the night he made you a woman.

You rushed to take out a nightshirt from your trousseau. You had separated them into three categories. There were ones that you wore nightly, others that were slightly bigger that were saved for an eventual pregnancy, and the ones that were for Aemond. Those were the prettier ones that your Lady Mother had purchased to help you entice your husband.

It was always one of the latter that was chosen. You hated not being prepared, so you always made sure to look pretty and be clean. Just in case. It had not happened yet, but it didn't mean it never would.

Your handmaid aided you to put your robe on, followed by your slippers and a thick cloak. The Red Keep, despite being inhabited by dragons, was always cold. Your handmaid always walked you to his chambers, and this night was not the exception.

She left you at his door, after you were announced. Aemond himself opened his door, welcoming you inside.

You had gotten better at not staring at him. Despite his state of undress, in only sleep pants and his hair down for once, he was a delight for the eyes.

“My lady.” He kissed your cheek. The door closed after you. He aided you out of your cloak. “I was hoping you would read for me tonight.”

You tried not to let your disappointment show on your face. Aemond, as if sensing your mood, merely shoved a book in your hands. He didn’t even offer you a seat, but you took one on the bed anyway. By the weight of the book, you would be here a while.

“On a far away land, whose name I am unable to recall…” Aemond settled down on the bed next to you, eye closed. You didn’t understand why he did this sort of thing, but you weren’t bothered by it either. It was a small price to pay for all the luxuries you got to enjoy.

Despite ending up with a sore throat, it was fun too. He picked the books now, in a stark contrast to the days when you had been a couple courting. And as a man, Aemond had access to many more books than you had. You had recently started making your way through some chivalry tales, with a lot more blood than you were used to.

It was enough for you. Perhaps he was not very affectionate, but he clearly enjoyed your company. Why else would he keep summoning for something as menial as reading books?

You settled into a comfortable routine, grounded by the rhythms of court life. For a while, everything was extraordinarily normal. It was not until you were three months into marriage with the Prince that things started to get weird.

It was the ninth day of the tenth moon of the year, and the date felt slightly ominous. There was a restless energy in the air, something unusual. Perhaps, it was you. As of late, you had been feeling a bit blue. The lack of letters from your family and the twins starting their lessons had left you with more spare time than you thought you would have.

Deciding to go have a bath to try to shake that restless energy from you, you headed toward your rooms. When you entered, the first thing you noticed was the smell. It was strong and floral like, permeating the surrounding air. Your maids used sweeter smells for your rooms, on the Queen’s advice. They were the sort of smells that Aemond favored, and so, she had hoped surrounding you with them would endear you to him.

Then, you saw them. It was a big bouquet of violets, laying on top of your bed. Delighted, you ran towards them. You were unable to resist the urge to smell them, breathing in their scent. This close, you noticed they were slightly bluer, closer to dark blue than purple.

You toyed with their petals, wondering where they could have come from. Perhaps your husband? Aemond was not very inclined towards romantic gestures, but there was no other explanation for it.

You were nearly bursting in excitement to see him. The flowers had been such a kind gesture, you could not help but feel a wave of affection. But no matter how much you wished for it, you had seen nor hide nor hair of Aemond.

Denying it was stupid on his part. Aemond will not protest against it. But what else could have he done? He had panicked. It's not like he meant to do so.

His mother held a weekly meal with all her children, and had taken to including you. Having often berated him about his treatment of you, it was not surprising that she had decided to take you under her wing.

Aemond did feel a bit guilty over his own coldness, but he wasn't really sure how he ought to behave. Apart from his sister and uncle, he had not seen many loving pairs during his life, and anyone would agree that Rhaenyra and Daemon should never be held up as examples of anything.

You were lonely, as of late. The twins had gotten old enough for lessons, and so, they had limited time to play with you in the gardens. You were far enough from home that the letters took a few days to reach you, too. As a young woman, almost too young to be forced to leave everything you knew behind, isolation must have been taking its toll.

Let's not forget you were not only two years his junior, but also a woman. You were of a fragile disposition, with your constant daydreaming and romantic thoughts. Aemond ought to have been paying more attention, but his mind had been busy elsewhere.

His father looked more and more close to death with each day that passed. His grandisre was constantly plotting. Without needing to be a seer, Aemond knew that things were not looking good. There would not be a peaceful reign for Rhaenyra.

He had been so caught up on his worries and duties, that Aemond had forgotten to take care of his woman. Aemond had not summoned you to his rooms that week, too wired to project the calm you would need in the days that would come. You would not do well if a war broke out.

Aemond had been quite lacking on his duty of taking care of you. Pretty little flower that you were, he could almost see you starting to wilt. You spent more time indoors, and stopped your daily walks in the gardens.

Despite fairness being regarded as a desirable trait for a lady, Aemond did not like the way your skin had lost its sun kissed glow. It just didn't fit you. Blue was more of his thing than yours, gorgeous golden woman that you were.

Hence, the flowers. Choosing the violets was an impulse. Aemond liked the colors and the smell was tolerable yet distinctive. He would know immediately when you received them, being able to smell them on your hair and clothes.

Sweet natured as you were, you had thanked him for them. The fact that you had liked them and associated them with him had been enough to warm his heart. The fact that you had decided to do so during the dinner with his siblings, enough to stomp on it.

It had not been quiet enough.

“Aemond?” Aegon frowned. “Aemond gave you flowers?”

Knowing his brother as he did, Aemond knew he was struggling hard to contain his laughter. He had been the butt of the joke too many times to confirm or deny anything. He would rather not be embarrassed in front of you.

But in truth, the idea of being weak, of being mocked, was not one that scared him. He had been humiliated many times during his childhood. What bothered him more was the thought of his feelings for you being exposed in such a manner. He was not prone to sudden bursts of affection, or doing thoughtful things for those he loved.

Aemond preferred to love in silence. There was no need for grandiloquence, or big gestures. Marriage was a sacred thing, between husband and wife. It was not something that had to be shared loudly. His love was spoken quietly, in the same way he had been taught to.

His mother loved quietly. His grandsire did, too. Their eyes spoke when their lips did not, their love a discordance with the words out of their mouths. Aemond had grown like that, loved but never told, learning it as a secret language that tied them all.

The flowers, though. The flowers had been a betrayal of their code. Something they would not understand because while everyone in the Red Keep was fluent in the art of loving and not saying a word, you were not. You were a foreigner, with your tales of romance and princess from a far away land.

This had been Aemond, clumsily speaking your language. Shy about it, as many people were when speaking one that was not theirs for the first time. It was hard. It was private, and certainly not something he wanted to be outed in front of Aegon, who would not know love for his wife if it hit him in the face.

His expression must have been deadly because Aegon had started squirming on his seat like his pants were on fire. Your face had fallen, turning into a terrible, sad thing, that made something funny to his heart.

“It wasn’t you. Of course.” Your voice was softer still. Aemond continued eating his dinner without a word. Because really, what could he say? Anything that he did now would be mocked by Aegon.

The way your face had fallen, brows pinching together in a sad little frown, had haunted him later. He wanted to fix things, but was unsure how. You were not used to his brusque manner and speech. Aemond felt it might do more harm than good, if he were to speak with you. He might end up offending you more without noticing.

Besides, how did one even start to explain that he had denied tacitly to gifting you flowers fearing not being understood and mocked? He would sound like a fool.

Instead, he had penned you a note. Instead of apologizing, Aemond had hoped to butter you up with a few compliments. You must have realized it, then, because you had walked the whole day as if floating in a cloud.

Come the ninth day of the next moon, you had nearly forgotten all about the incident. You had thrown away the flowers before they even had a chance to wilt, and the note had been burned to a crisp in your fireplace. You had convinced yourself having a secret admirer was improper for a married woman, and refused to give it more thought.

It was a bit strange, that your husband was not angered by it. Yet, at the same time, you supposed he was thankful for your discretion over the entire affair. Aemond was very sensible and smart, so it was logical he wouldn't blame you.

Aemond had kept summoning you to his chambers, be either for you to read to him or just to sit in silence. Your happiness persisted. Until your breakfast’s tray was set on your vanity.

You noticed it when you were sipping at your tea. Groggily, and confused, you found a piece of paper under your napkin. On a neat handwriting, there was a quote from one of the poetry books you favored.

You gave a tiny gasp. Your hands clenched on the paper, your cheeks heating up. The penmanship was not one you recognized, but the words made your knees nearly buckle. No one had written you sonnets before.

Ninth day, you realize. Same as the flowers. If not your husband, then who? The idea of the secret admirer came back, stronger this time. The dates could not be a coincidence, this had to be the same person. Ninth day of the ninth moon, then ninth day of the ten.

You started over analyzing each interaction you had with men. When the knights opened the doors for you, your eyes would linger on theirs. When a Lord would greet you, you would try to remind if he had something to do with violets.

You found yourself daydreaming of this man. Would he be an older man? Would he be prone to smiling, or would he share the stoic nature of your Prince? How would his hands feel on your skin? All the daydreaming made you feel guilty, for fantasizing about a man who was not your husband. Yet, at the same time, you knew that you would not act on it. You loved Aemond too much.

It was flattering, to be wanted in such a manner. You liked the idea of it because it was different from the love you were used to. But you would rather not meet the admirer, knowing you would have to reject him. You enjoyed the attention, not the person it came from.

There was only one person in Westeros that you wished would lavish you with attention and love. And you knew already he was not your secret admirer.

Secretly, sometimes, you thought of telling Aemond. What would his reaction be? The thought made butterflies flutter in your stomach. Would he get jealous? Would he turn more affectionate? You imagined he would want to claim you in some way.

Alone, at night, you pictured his eye, narrowed in anger. Those hands, gripping harshly at your hips, leaving bruises. His body over yours, his lips on your throat, your chest, your stomach. Your hands would follow the path that the imaginary Aemond's hands would take, caressing and groping until they reached their destination. You would arouse and tease yourself until you reached your peak, a scream of his name dying in your throat.

The wondering does not last to meet a third moon. No, because King Viserys passes away and Prince Aegon is crowned King. The whole Red Keep is in a state of disarray, and you feel oddly fearful, watching the constant movement the family seems to be in.

Even Queen Alicent, usually so kind and calm, is on edge. She seems on the verge of a neurotic episode, pacing frantically around the halls, muttering to herself. You can't help but feel something bad is about to happen.

Your husband is in a terrible mood. He seems to have a constant headache, and so, you have taken to being even more kind to him. Some nights, he will summon you to his chambers. He keeps asking you to read to him, but you can tell his mind is far away.

You try grounding him, placing your hand on his thigh or shoulder every chance you get. If you were more confident, you would try something more bold. Aemond seems to enjoy your touch, but he doesn't encourage you to do it. His face remains unmoved, and he keeps telling you to keep reading.

His only tell is that he always reciprocates. If your hand is on his shoulder, his goes to your hip. If you touch his back, Aemond caresses your hair.

It leaves you feeling a bit out of balance. It's entirely innocent, as if you were two children discovering love. Yet at the same time, you can't help but feel like you are burning up in your need for him.

He starts requesting for you to stay the night with him. Aemond never touches you beyond holding you to him, body pressed close to yours in a long, vertical line. Sometimes, you wake up to his manhood prodding you from behind, but he promptly excuses himself out of the bed you share. It makes your thighs clench up in need.

It's unbearable. You feel like you are going insane, your center pulsating in need each time you are near him. The simplest touches can set you on fire. You decide to be bolder, soon. You can't keep this state of affairs.

Before you can explore this new side of your connection, Aemond is pulled away. A mission for the King, he explains. You stay behind, feeling restless. Not having been told what his mission involved, nor where he was going, you can't help but worry. Aemond had taken Vhagar, and that, at least, gives you a slight sense of safety. You were familiar enough with his mount to know she could be his fiercest protector if she felt someone was threatening.

You spend your hours praying for his safe return, along with the Queen. While not part of the Small Council formed around Aegon, but you imagine quite well what they discussed. Alicent is as scared as you are.

You go to bed late that night. With Aemond away, you can't sleep, already used to his body pressing against yours. You had hoped exhaustion would help you overcome that problem.

It's even later when heavy footsteps and the slamming of a door rise you. In the dark, you can barely make out a silhouette. A tall man, holding a dagger.

You scream. The man grabs you roughly by the shoulders and pushes you to lay down on the bed. This close, you can feel that his clothes are strangely humid, as if dried in a rush. You had not considered it before, but the letters and violets do not seem so romantic anymore. Instead, they scare you. You find yourself faced with the possibility that this man might this be your secret admirer. Has he felt encouraged by your happiness? Is he dangerous?

There is a heavy candleholder on your nightstand. You reach for it in the dark, and swing at his head. The man yelps. You start to struggle against him. His tone is familiar to you.

“Seven Hells.” He curses. It's then that it hits you. This is Aemond. Aemond is back. You don't get to rejoice on it, or pull him to you, though. He keeps speaking, in a confused tone. “You… I… I made a mistake.”

Aemond gets up and away from you. His clothes still reek of humidity and sadness. You remain there, laying on your stomach, as you feel an uncontrollable urge to cry. There is something inside you that has been rattled until it broke, something that tells you that this Aemond is not your Aemond.

The next morning, you find out he has killed Lucerys Velaryon. Instead of going to his mother or grandsire, he had come straight for you. Aemond had been trying to forget on your skin, lose himself in you.

When you see the violets covering every inch of your room, bouquets over your bed, on your vanity and even the windowsill, your eyes sting. It's bittersweet to realize that, now that you look at them, their color is surprisingly close to a sapphire.

Dividers by yours truly. Por supuesto que la canción era Ramito de Violetas. Grande Zalo Reyes.

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avastrasposts · 7 months

Text

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 33

Feel free to yell at me...

Series Master List

Chapter 34- Warnings have their own post - Word count: 6.2k

“Catfish! Catfish, where the fuck are you!?”

The hellish crackle penetrates his hazy mind, making his body jerk and tip over on to the cold floor. He blinks and scrabbles for the noise, Pope’s voice, on his waist. Shoving himself upright he shakes his head as he snaps the radio off his belt and finds the transmission button.

“Catfish here, over,” he mumbles, his tongue thick in his mouth. Slowly his brain is turning back on and ice hits his veins as he realizes he fell asleep on his post.

“Get down here, get to the rendezvous, FEDRA is all over the place, we’ve got to fucking run! Over!”

“On my way. Out,” he says, his voice clearer as he staggers to his feet. Below him, down on the street, gun fire erupts and he stumbles back towards the door, still finding his balance. There’s a back door, they scouted it before they came up to the apartment, and shaking his head violently to clear the cobwebs, he quickly makes his way down the stairs, sweeping his gun around every corner. He hears FEDRA kick the front door open as he slips out the back, hurrying across the yard and dodging into the next alley, out of sight.

He hears sporadic gunfire from behind him but it’s not directed at him and he can only hope the others are ok. The protocol is to maintain radio silence unless there’s an emergency, and anyway, only Pope has a radio. He moves quickly, dodging into another alley when a FEDRA truck rumbles past. He ducks into a doorway, breathing heavily, cursing himself under his breath as he waits for the search light to sweep the alley. The truck moves on and he’s plunged into darkness again as he peeks out.

“Fish!”

The whispered call comes from across the alley, a window is cracked open and he sees a blacked gloved hand wave at him. Quickly he crosses over and scrambles through the opening, Pope’s hand grabbing him and pulling him through. “C’mon, let’s move,” he says, “through the back.”

“Where’s Benny and Will?”

“We got separated, I had to dodge to get away from a patrol,” Pope replies, slipping through another door and Frankie follows. Into another building and down into a lower level where they pause, Pope glancing out through a broken window. .

“I fucked up, Pope,” Frankie whispers, grabbing Pope’s arm. “I fell asleep, I fucking fell asleep, I didn’t hear them coming.”

“Fuck, Fish…” Pope sighs, looking back at Frankie, “I thought you had trouble sleeping, and now you fall asleep on a fucking balcony?”

“I…I took…something to take the edge off,” Frankie stutters, trying to keep his eyes on Pope as he sees his friend’s disappointment. “I fucked up.”

Santi shakes his head, “We got ratted out, Fish. FEDRA knew the trade was happening, they turned up with two patrols and two trucks. We’d be in this shit even if you didn’t fall asleep.” He glances back at the street and then throws a look back at Frankie, “But when we get out of this shit, I’m fucking kicking your ass and telling your wife.” He sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, “Fuck, Frankie, you’ve got to get past this, man.”

“I know,” he mumbles, “I don’t know how many more chances she’ll give me.”

Pope looks away from the window and looks at Frankie, appraising him and the state that he’s in. They’ve all thought he was slowly moving in the right direction but that it was going slow, too slow. And now he realizes that Frankie’s been hiding the small signs well, but they’re all there. The stumbling, the red eyes, the drowsy tiredness, hiding one addiction with another, trying to get the side effect to cancel each other out.

“She’s always said she’s in it for life with you, Frankie, she’s never shied away from your darker sides. But sooner or later even she will realize that the only thing left for her is to leave.” Santi lets his words sink in, he sees Frankie flinch under the truth of it, "Don't let it get that far, hermano, I’m not sure you can survive without her now.”

Frankie swallows down the guilt that’s threatening to drown him and nods. Santi nods back and glances back out through the window.

“I should’ve known you weren’t ok yet, I shouldn't have asked you to do this.”

“I wanted to, Pope, I thought I could do it,” Frankie says, “I wanted to help you guys out, you help me and her out all the time even though I can barely do shit to help you.”

Santi looks back at Frankie and puts his hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze, “Frankie, you’re my brother, she’s my sister, we’re all family, you know we’ll always do anything for you and your girl.”

“And I fucked up your trade, I’m really fucking sorry, Pope.”

Santi sighs and drops his gaze, glancing back out of the window as he thinks. “I’m not mad about the trade, Frankie, all you could’ve done was to give us a few extra seconds heads up anyway. I just want you to get clean, that’s what matters to me, to your girl, and to Will and Benny. I love you, we all love you, and you’re risking that.”

Frankie doesn’t know what to say, guilt is gnawing at his heart, all he wants to do is get home and tell her everything, and hope she still stays. How many times hasn’t he done that? Can he do it one more time and still be lucky enough to keep her?

He nods and Santi claps his shoulder, looking back out the window.

“Alright, all’s quiet, let’s move.”

They cover another two blocks, nearing the rendezvous, when the searchlights of the FEDRA truck slices the street in half. Frankie grabs Pope’s arm and yanks him into an alley just as the light hits them. Running down the narrow back street, hoping the sound of the truck masks their heavy footsteps, they look for a way out, cursing as they’re met by a dead end, a solid brick wall.

A locked door blocks the only exit but Frankie points to a small warehouse window high up on the wall, “Up there, give me a hand.”

“Check for infected before you drop down,” Pope reminds him, giving him a leg up. Frankie turns on his flashlight and lets it sweep across the room, spotting another doorway and a staircase.

“Good news, there seems to be a way out, bad news is the door is blocked from the inside by rubble, I can’t shift it.”

“I can reach the window from the dumpster if you give me a hand,” Pope tugs at the heavy container.

“Pope, look out!”

“In the alley! I’ve got eyes on one of them in the alley!” A soldier yells and raises his rifle. A burst of gunfire rings out and Pope dives behind the dumpster with a curse.

“Come out with your hands where we can see them!”

Frankie risks a glance through the window and the search light of the truck illuminates the alley, just as he pulls his head back he sees a large group of soldiers advance down towards Pope, crouched down behind the dumpster.

“Pope,” he hisses, “Jump, grab my hand, I’ll pull you up.”

Pope looks up at him and gauges the distance up to the window, dumping his backpack. He takes a short running start and jumps, Frankie reaches out as far as he can, their fingers brushing but gunfire erupts around them, bullets pining off the dumpster, taking chunks out of the wall.

“Shoot to kill!” comes the shout from the FEDRA officer in command and more bullets hit the wall as Pope ducks his head behind the dumpster.

“Fuck!” He looks up at Frankie who’s trying to avoid the hail of bullets and glance down at Pope.

“Just fucking run, Fish, get to the rendezvous, get the others,” Pope calls over the din of the gunfire. “Get the fuck out of here!”

“I’m not leaving you, Pope!” Frankie yells, “Jump again, I've got you!”

“I’ll be fucking dead before you’ve haul me up, just fucking run, Fish!”

Frankie frantically looks around the room, anything useful, and back at Pope when he finds nothing. Down the alley he can see the soldiers closing in, as they see him in the window they open fire, bullets narrowly missing him as he yanks himself back.

“We’ll come back for you!” he calls, “I’ll get the others! Don’t let them fucking shoot you!”

“Stay safe, hermano!” Pope calls. Frankie jumps down from the desk he’s been on and takes off at a run, out the other door.

Pope takes out his gun and slides it out from behind the dumpster, into clear view of the advancing soldiers.

“I’m unarmed!” he calls, “I’m unarmed!”

The soldiers' heavy boots crunch along the alley, rifles raised and aimed at him as they round the corner where he’s crouched down, arms raised.

…

Frankie kicks open the front door of the laundromat he finds himself in, smashing the glass in the process. The loud crash echoes through the street and he takes off at a fast run, praying he won’t run into another patrol. He covers a few more blocks, his lungs starting to seize up with the exertion, and he’s breathing heavily as he stumbles down the stairs into the half hidden old metro station. He gives a gasp of relief when he sees Benny and Will waiting, lowering their guns as they spot him.

“Pope got caught by FEDRA, we need to go back and get him,” he huffs, bending double and putting his hands on his knees.

“Fuck!” Benny curses in a hushed voice, pulling his backpack off the floor and swinging it onto his shoulders. “What happened?”

“We got caught in a dead end, a patrol spotted us,” Frankie straightens up, trying to catch his breath, “I climbed through a window but before I could pull Pope up they saw us and opened fire. He told me to get you, to get him out.”

“We’ve got to hurry,” Will says, “They’re going to hang him if they decide he’s a smuggler, they’re doing trials and executions in one day now, we need to get him out now.”

The unthinkable thought spurs all three of them into action and Frankie leads the way back towards the laundromat.

They hurry towards the alley, quickly circling around so that they come up behind the FEDRA patrol, crouching down behind a car and peering over the hood. A group of soldiers is coming out of the alley, another from around the corner where the laundromat is but there’s no sign of the truck.

“No sign of the other man, sir!” one of them says to the officer in charge, “We searched the whole building and the surrounding blocks.”

“Pull back to HQ,” the officer says, “we got one of them at least and busted their trade.”

“Fuck,” Frankie hisses, “we’re too late, they must’ve taken him back to HQ on the truck already.”

“Let’s get out of here, we need to regroup somewhere safe and work out a way to get him out, your place is closest, Frankie,” Will says, tapping Benny’s shoulder. Quietly the three men back away and start making their way towards the apartment.

“What happened, Frankie?” Benny asks as they jog through back streets and alleys, moving quickly to avoid more patrols, “You never radioed, didn’t you see them coming?”

“Someone told FEDRA,” Will growls, “I think either our contact got double crossed by someone, or he was in on it too.”

“But he showed up, but I guess he could’ve done that just to not make it look like he was in on it.”

“Whatever happened, we’ll find out and deal with it,” Will says, “but for now, we need to get Pope out and then lay very fucking low.” ,

Frankie stops, pulling off his cap and shoving a hand through his hair, “I fucked up, I feel asleep,” he confesses and gives the two other men a pained look. “I told Pope, I...I took something to steady my nerves, and I fell asleep. I didn’t wake up until Pope radioed.”

“You’re still using?” Will asks, his voice low, “I thought you were getting over it.”

Frankie shakes his head, trying to keep his eyes on Will but failing, they drop to his boots as he rubs his hand over his neck.

“I couldn’t do it, it got too hard,” he mumbles and he feels both men’s eyes on him.

“You’re telling your wife when we’re done with this, and we’ll figure out how to help you,” Will says, “but we need to get Pope out first. Let’s keep moving.”

“Fuck, Fish…” Benny sighs as they take off at a jog again, “you should’ve talked to us.”

Frankie shrugs and keeps his eyes on the ground in front of his boots as they move through the dark alleys. He can feel Benny’s eyes on him, guilt making his body tense up. But Benny just gives him a clap on the shoulder, a gentle squeeze, and when Frankie glances at him, Benny flashes him a quick smile.

“It’s alright, man, we’ve still gotcha.”

Will looks back at the two of them as they slow down, coming up on Frankie’s apartment building.

“Yeah, Fish, we’re not giving up on you that easily.”

…

The military trial is summary, the judge, a FEDRA officer, listens to the arresting officers statement, looks at some papers in front of him, before he lifts his gavel.

Pope stands stock still, his hands uncomfortably shackled behind his back and the cut on his eyebrow stinging, but he’s focused solely on keeping his breathing calm. He knows what his sentence will be, it was a risk they all took, but it doesn’t make this moment any easier.

To hear it out loud.

“Santiago Garcia, you have been found guilty of transporting contraband into the quarantine zone in breach of FEDRA regulations. You have been found guilty of entering the quarantine zone without the proper screening procedure, thus endangering the population of the Boston QZ in breach of FEDRA protocol. You have been found guilty of aiding the terrorist organization known as ‘The Fireflies’ by supplying them with weapons and ammunition.”

The judge glances up from the papers and looks down his nose at the man standing in front of him in the middle of the room, handcuffed and shackled with armed guards on either side.

“All three of these violations are serious threats to the safety of the citizens of the QZ. I have no choice but to sentence you to death by hanging.”

The gavel drops, the heavy thud reverberating through the small room.

Santi bites down on his jaw, biting back the bile that’s threatening to rise in his throat. He barely notices as the guard yanks on his handcuffs and forces him to move, leading him across the room and out through a backdoor into an enclosed yard. A truck is waiting, two men and a woman already seated in the back. The woman is silently weeping, her whimpers shaking her body, the man in the back corner is cursing under his breath, raining hellfire on FEDRA.

Santi stumbles as he climbs into the truck, the shackles around his ankles making him clumsy. The canvas flap is pulled down behind him, the truck rumbles to life and leaves the yard. He sinks his head into his hands, praying to a god he no longer believes in, that his brothers will somehow manage to get to him, break him out of this. But it’s been so fast, less than twelve hours since he was caught, the trial already over. The truck lurches through the QZ until it comes to an abrupt halt. A few moments of silence and he can hear the murmurs of a crowd through the thin canvas. The flap is thrown open, momentarily blinding him as he tries to shield his eyes from the sharp spring sunlight. Fear fills his every vein as he sees the scaffold, four nooses in a row.

…

You don’t think you’ve ever been this tired in your life, but adrenaline keeps you on your feet. The hours have passed in a blur since you were woken up by Frankie crashing in through the door, Will and Benny right behind. You spent the night crying and cursing, panicking, while the men went through every possible angle, any way of breaking Santi out of FEDRA lock up, getting to him when he’s being transported, attacking the courtroom and killing the guards, storming the scaffold.

Anything.

Anything to get their brother out and away from FEDRA, to avoid the inevitable death sentence.

Then they’d left a few hours before the curfew lifted, heading for FEDRA HQ. You didn’t even ask if you should come, one look at Frankie’s face and you knew it would be pointless. So you’d paced, back and forth, for hours, the panic ever present in your chest. You wanted to run down to FEDRA HQ and scream until they let him out. Take him and run, escape the QZ, kill everyone who stood in your way. So violent and vengeful were your thoughts that you tasted blood in your mouth as you bit down on your lip to stop yourself from screaming. Breathless you’d stood by the window, watching dawn break.

Hours after the curfew had lifted they finally came back, but their dark faces told you everything, there was no possible way. It was hopeless. A suicide mission.

“If we had a week and time to plan, get supplies, then maybe,” Will had said, “Get the Fireflies on our side and bomb the HQ guard station. But just the three of us? We’d be dead or captured in five minutes.”

“Then we fucking try anyway!” Benny had shouted, his rage simmering under the surface and now he let it out. “We take as many of them out as we can and if we fail, we go down together.”

“And you think that’s what Pope would want us to do?” Will snapped at his brother. “Get ourselves killed on a suicide mission? Would you do that to Eve? Because I’m sure as hell not doing that to Diana!”

Frankie sank down on the couch, his head buried in his hands. He’s told you what happened, confessed and watched your face fall in disappointment before he had to drop his gaze. You didn’t say anything, but he felt your heart break as your fingers clutched at his hand.

Benny and Will left to go home, to tell Eve and Diana. Frankie begged you to stay behind when it came time to leave, to not witness this. But the very idea of not being there, to not let Santi know that you were there, made tears well up in your eyes again. And Frankie took your hand, tight in his own, and together you walked to the main square.

…

Now you’re here, in the murmuring crowd, and the truck has just pulled up. There are soldiers everywhere, circling the scaffold, a barrier between the crowd and those condemned to die. Their impassive faces scan the citizens of the QZ, rifles held in their hands, a tight row, a show of FEDRA’s power and deterrence to the Fireflies.

You can’t make your tears stop streaming, Frankie’s arms are tight around your chest as he stands behind you, you can feel his fingers digging into your arms. Eve is weeping next to you, Benny next to her with his arm around her shoulder, his brother close by. When you glance up at Benny you see fat tears drop down his nose. Joel and Tommy stand behind you, grim faced and silent, Tommy’s head bowed, fighting back tears.

As the truck flap opens the crowd goes silent. This is no jeering execution crowd, these are silent, grieving witnesses to FEDRA’s cruelty.

He steps out first, his face pale, dried blood on his cheeks from a cut on his eyebrow. He scans the crowd and Will raises his hand, holding it high and you see the moment Santi notices. His face softens, transforms into regret and grief and then he’s pushed forward by the guard, stumbling forward up the stairs and onto the scaffolding.

You whimper as the noose slips over his neck. Santi is standing so still, his hands tied behind his back, head held high, as he looks at his brothers with a steady gaze. You all raise your hands over your heads, a greeting and farewell, and he locks eyes with Frankie. You can see it, his eyes fixed just over your head. Frankie’s body shakes behind you, trembling as he fights to push back the sob that’s forcing its way up through his throat. Santi gives him a weak smile, a nod, like he’s sending a message.

And then the hood is pulled over his head and you close your eyes, picturing Santi’s smiling face in your mind, his mischievous grin, warm brown eyes that sparkle when he teases you, his strong arms in a hug as he calls you hermana. Forcing yourself to remember him that way, and not like this. Frankie’s arms pull you tighter and you turn, burying your face in his chest as the officer reads the sentences, his heart is thrumming hard under your ear and his shirt is wet with your tears.

The officer goes quiet and the square is silent but for the open weeping heard from the men and women around you. You add your own to the chorus, your shoulders shaking under Frankie’s tight grip, his own tears dripping down into your hair.

And then the clap as the trap door falls open and four bodies drop, the creaking of the rope and the thump as it stretches. You hear Will’s strangled cry and Frankie’s choked gasp as he sobs into your shoulder, burying his face. You hear Benny stumble to his knees, roaring, the sound of an injured animal making your heart break. Frankie lets go of you and crouches down next to Benny, grabbing hold of him as Will does the same, the three men holding on to each other as Benny roars. Eve grabs hold of you as Diana wraps her arms around you both and you glance up towards the scaffold.

The fourth man, at the end, hangs still and lifeless, his head bent under the hood.

…

You all lose track of time, you can’t say how long you stand there, holding each other. Frankie stands up and pulls you into his arms, Eve kneels next to Benny and holds him tight. At some point a soldier comes over to Will and hands him a set of dog tags and Santi’s backpack, everything of value removed. Will lets the tags slip into his pocket without even looking at them, the backpack stays by his feet.

There’s nothing left to say for now, as the sun shifts across the sky, your tears dry up and you’re left with a hole inside you. When you meet Frankie’s eyes you see the same numbness. He’s lost his brother, his best friend, and his eyes are empty, red rimmed and swollen as he sinks down into darkness.

You try to find some words, to say something, anything, but nothing comes. You can’t even put your own grief into words, it’s just an open wound in your chest. Part of you wants to scream until your throat is raw and you run out of breath, the other part just wants to just curl up on the dirty asphalt and forget everything, sink down and follow him.

Around you people are moving away, the square empties and you can’t comprehend how they can go home, make dinner, mundane tasks that seem pointless. All you can do is hold Frankie, bunch his shirt in your fists and keep breathing.

At some point Will shakes himself into action, pulls Benny to his feet and tells Frankie to take you home.

“We’ll meet tomorrow…empty his apartment,” Will pauses, looking over at Frankie, the older man’s head bowed, his arm tight around your shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault, Frankie,” he says, “It wasn’t, we knew the risks, Pope knew the risks.”

Frankie doesn’t reply, he tries to meet Will’s eyes but he can only hold them for a second before he shakes his head and drops his gaze to his boots.

“Take him home,” Will says, looking at you, “don’t let him do anything stupid.”

…

Frankie feels every hour pass that night, on his back in the bed, the QZ dark outside the curtains. But at some point he must've fallen asleep because you’re gone when he wakes up and the sun is high in the sky. You’d barely talked to him when you’d both come back to the apartment, after it was all over. It was as if there was nothing to say and you were deep in thought. Frankie felt numb, grief throbbed deep in his chest, making breathing hard, but it was as if he’d locked it up in there for now, refusing to let it out until he knew what you were thinking.

You’d sought him out in bed at least, last night. Curled yourself into a small ball and let him wrap his arms around you, taking his hand and pulling him closer. But now the bed is empty and as he searches the small apartment he sees your boots and coat gone too. He paces back and forth, trying to will his brain to function, to run through every possibility and rank them, trying to decide what he should do. He ends up in the same spot every time; in front of the toilet, his hand closed tight around the last pills. He wants to flush them, he even holds his hand out over the bowl a few times. But he’s scared, he knows the nightmares he’ll face if he doesn’t have them. Now more than ever.

He turns around, stuffs them deep into his pocket and stands by the window, the sky is getting dark. The curfew is in effect and you’re not home yet, he didn’t realize it was so late. The day has slipped from him and the familiar spark of panic hits his stomach, he touches on the idea that maybe you’ve left for good, it’s always his first reaction and he forces himself to remember all the times you’ve said you’d never leave.

But maybe this time…

There's a heavy knock on the door and it makes him jump, almost instinctively he pats his pocket and makes sure the pills are out of sight.

Joel’s outside and he pushes his hood back as Frankie opens the door.

“Joel? What are you doing here?” Frankie pulls the door open and lets the other man inside, closing it behind them.

“I need to talk to you,” Joel doesn’t bother with his boots, he walks into the living room and looks around.

“I have a message from your wife,” he says, turning to Frankie, “She came to see me this morning and asked me to take her out of the QZ, to that car we hid.”

Frankie feels his skin go cold as his stomach drops and Joel continues, “She’s there now, waiting for you. If you’re not there by morning, she’ll leave. I gave her the keys to the car and checked that it still works.”

“Why?” Frankie chokes out, he can feel his nails digging into his palms and panic is definitely taking hold of him now.

“She said, and I agree, that you need to leave the QZ. So she’s forcing your hand.”

“You left her alone outside the wall? My wife!?” Frankie suddenly feels anger and fear bubble up inside him and Joel holds up his palms.

“Calm down, she’s safe, for now. We cleared out the building next to the car, she’s bunkered down there until morning. But I can’t guarantee she’ll stay safe for very long once she leaves.”

Frankie groans and hurries across to the closet, yanking open the door and pulling out his backpack. Now he sees that hers is already missing, along with some of her clothes. And he bets supplies are missing from the box in the kitchen and in the hidden space under the bookshelf.

“She made me promise to not tell anyone else, only you,” Joel says. “Do you want me to come with you out to the car?”

“Get me outside the wall, I know the rest of the way,” Frankie replies, stuffing his pack, grabbing the photo of Lucía from the bedroom. He glances at your side of the bed, the photo of you and him is missing.

“Did she say anything else?” he asks, sticking his gun into his pants and checking that he’s grabbed all the ammo.

“No, only to not tell anyone and to get you.”

“I should get Will and Benny,” Frankie says, thinking out loud as he pulls on his boots.

“You won’t have time, she’s leaving in a few hours,” Joel nods to the short May night outside the window. “She planned it that way, I don’t think she wants to involve them or she would’ve asked them to take her outside.”

“They would’ve stopped her, Will would’ve physically restrained her before he let her go outside alone,” Frankie says, “She came to you because she knew you’d do it.”

Joel nods and follows Frankie outside the door, “She was right, and I also agree with her that you need to get away from the QZ.”

Frankie locks up and they head out the backdoor. The curfew is still in effect so Joel quickly leads the way through the dark QZ, ducking into a building and following an underground passageway until they pop up on the outside, some way away from the wall.

Joel stops and turns to Frankie, “You know the way from here right?”

“Yeah, no problem. Anything new I should know about?”

“Be careful around that old gym we used to cross through, I took down a runner there last time, might be more around.”

“Ok, good to know,” Frankie nods and adjusts his pack before he sticks his hand in his pocket, closing it around the key to the apartment and the bag of pills. He pulls both out.

“Here, give the key to Will, in case we don’t come back. And…” he hesitates, looking at the pills, his fingers starting to curl closed around them, but before he can make up his mind, Joel reaches out and snatches the bag from him.

“I should’ve told her about Tess selling you the drugs. Tell her I’m sorry for not telling her.”

Frankie shakes his head, dropping his shoulders as he watches Joel stuff the bag into his shirt pocket, “I don’t know if it would’ve made a difference, to be honest. I just would’ve gotten better at hiding it.”

He glances up at the sky, it’s starting to lighten, the short May night almost over, “I need to get going, thanks for taking me out here, I’ll see you around, Joel.”

“I hope I don’t, Frankie,” Joel says, “Listen to her, and don’t come back.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’ll tell you, listen to her.” Joel gives Frankie a wave and turns around, “Stay safe, Frankie, and don’t come back.”

Frankie watches Joel’s retreating back for a few moments before he pulls out his gun and moves forwards. The lightning sky makes it easier to see where he’s going but it spurs him on, hurrying through the broken city towards where they’d parked the car.

…

You hear his footsteps on the stairs just as you’re starting to think that you might have to wait another day. You’ve been waiting all night, counting the hours, even the minutes, as the sky got lighter. Your plan is to leave, really leave, if he doesn’t turn up and you’d told Joel to tell Frankie that you’d leave at dawn, you wanted him to panic. But in truth, you were petrified, the very idea of going outside alone made you panic. Getting in the car and driving away from the QZ, from Frankie, would be impossible, but you’d have to do it if all else failed. And you needed him to get scared, really scared, this really was his last chance.

You open the door to the small office at the top of the stairs as he comes up, you see his shoulders drop the second he sees you.

“Cariño,” he whispers, taking a few long strides and grabbing hold of you, and you have to steel yourself. He’s warm and solid, his arms always such a safe place, it’s so easy to just melt into him and forget your resolve. You let yourself hold on to him for a few seconds before you put your palms on his chest and push him away.

“I’m giving you a choice, Frankie,” you say, locking eyes with him as he drops his arms from your sides, “Either you leave with me now, or I leave alone and you go back to the QZ without me.”

Frankie takes a step towards you, reaching for your hand and you back away, “Cariño…”

“You have one more chance, Frankie,” you interrupt him, “I’m not giving up on you, but whatever I have been doing, clearly isn’t working. And now Santi is dead.”

At the mention of his name you choke, you’ve pushed everything down, ignored the pain in your chest but now it breaks through and you sob, covering your mouth with your hands. Frankie puts out his hand but you pull away again, his eyes are filling with tears and his jaw is tight.

Across the dim room you look at eachother, and you can feel the impasse in front of you both, the fork in the road; trust Frankie and leave with him. Or he lets you leave and never sees you again.

The very thought makes your heart physically hurt. That option is never going to be possible for you. Not when Frankie is standing in front of you with teary eyes, his hands twitching at his side, looking at you like he’s about to break if you take one more step away from him.

“I need to get you away from Joel. From Tess,” you whisper after a long silence, “From every other person that’s prepared to let you sink further into this fucking pit in exchange for a few ration cards, Frankie.”

He nods, taking a small step towards you and you don’t back away, “I’ll go wherever you want, cariño, you know that.”

“I know, but I don’t know if I should let you,” you look back at your pack, your gun, all ready to go, without him. He sees the pain in your eyes, the way tears are dripping down over your lips and you wipe your hand over your face. He reaches out for you again, he needs to touch you, he feels like you’re going to run if he doesn’t, and you let him close his fingers around yours, soft hand under his calloused grip.

“I can’t say anything to make a difference,” he whispers, his voice low in the room, “I failed them in the worst possible way, I-I failed all of you…” he stutters and trailers off, his eyes growing dark, “and Pope died…I got him killed.”

You can’t take it, as his chest heaves under the weight of his grief you close the small gap between you and wrap your arms around him, burying your face against his neck. But you can’t say anything to comfort him, this pain is his to use to break through, to get to the same point you’re already at.

He fights to control his breathing, to stop the sobs, this is not the place to break down. You feel him tense up under your arms as he straightens up, inhaling deeply and swallowing back another gulp of air that’s threatening to escape.

“We go back and get Will and Benny,” he says, firming up his voice, making a decision, “then we leave, go find that farm we talked about.”

“No, only you and I go,” you shake your head, pulling back so that you can look at him, “We can’t all fit in the car, and we’re not asking them to choose between helping us and leaving Eve and Diana behind.”

“Cariño…I can’t leave them, we can’t, we have to at least give them the choice,” Frankie tries to make you understand but you shake your head, steeling yourself for what you have to say.

“Santi died because of your addiction, Frankie. I’m not letting Will and Benny risk anything more, it’s just you and m-me n-now,” your voice breaks over the last syllables, Frankie’s face has fallen, you can see the guilt your words give him and you bite your tongue to not take it back. But he nods, taking a deep breath, as he squeezes his eyes shut for a second.

“You’re right, fuck…I can’t ask them, we have to go now.” You feel his hand close around yours, taking hold of it as if he’s never letting it go again, “Where do we go?”

“I don’t know, we just go, Frankie.”

Chapter 34

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics @vickie5446@your-slutty-gf

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sadslay · 10 months

Note

HEY can you dorg a rick grimes x readertsxdr wbere its enemies to lovers i really life your fsanfics AND think rhye are super cool.

- CLOSER⋆☆ 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings — depictions of heavy violence & gore, coarse language, mentions of cannibalism [terminus era], light nsfw content/fluff

if there is true evil in this world, it lies in the heart of man kind.

when the world fell it became all the more evident that evil was rooted into humanity, and it only took a devastating, world-ending event for me to realise. those who were left in the world didn’t need to fear the dead that roamed the earth but instead they should fear the people that survived.

after weeks of traveling up and down the various railways running across georgia i was finally on my way home. my back ached and my feet were almost numb. i had been walking all night, never stopping because if i did, there was no way i’d be able to start again. i had endured weeks of unrest and uncertainty all to avoid the brutalities of my brother's ideologies.

not that my brother knew but the real reason i left our hellish home was to protect the greater good, not because i particularly cared but because i couldn’t bare seeing helpless people coming to us for refuge only to be thrown in train carts to have their heads served on a platter days later.

i dreaded each step that pulled me closer to home. every part of me just wanted to turn around and forget about everything i had left behind but i couldn’t. as evil as they were, they were still my family. as my eyes rose to the horizon - the sun barely peaking through the tree line - i noticed something about a mile down the road. i momentarily froze, my eyes narrowing as i focused on the pair.

it was two men, leaned up against an old rusted vehicle, causing my steps slow as i continued to cautiously creep closer. listening to them closely, i began to listen in to their quiet conversation. one man was wearing a leather vest and had straight hair that went past his ears while the man beside him was wearing a brown suede jacket and his hair was curled and tinted slightly red, along with his beard and chin.

i moved off the road, walking towards the treeline only to catch their attention seconds later. "hey!" one of the men yelled as they both rose to their feet.

my hands rose into the air in the blink of an eye, choosing to leave my pistol hidden as i crept back onto the road. “i don’t want any trouble.” i spoke firmly, my eyes wandering between the two men as the man with curled air pulled a barrelled colt python, keeping two hands on the gun as he kept it pointed to the ground. “m’just passin’ through.”

"passin' through?" one of the men asked, his southern accent as clear as day as his head tilted to the side by half an inch.

i nodded, staying still as i stood opposite to the two men. "just headin' home." i added, lowering my hands slightly, only for the man's gun to rise. "will you get that thing outta my face?" i scoffed, my hands freezing beside my shoulders.

the bloodied man looked at me for a moment before lowering his gun, placing it back inside the holster attached to the belt sitting around his waist.

"you have a group?" he asked, both his hands resting on his hips.

i shrugged weakly, finally dropping my hands back to my side. "guess you could call 'em that." i mumbled, internally debating if i should tell the two men of terminus, although i'm sure my brother would find a use for them.

“that didn’t answer my question.” the man with the gun quickly responded, his southern accent thickening as he spoke.

"kinda did," i smirked, weakly shrugging my shoulders as my eyes narrowed. a moment of silence fell between the three of us, the soft wind blowing through our hair as we all stood on the long-abandoned road. "can i go now?" i asked.

the two men looked at each other before their cold eyes returned to mine. "you heard about terminus?" he asked, his hand momentarily leaving his hip to vaguely point in the direction of the community before returning to his hip.

"yeah." i responded nonchalantly shrugging my shoulders. "if yer know what's good for ya, you'll stay away."

i'd soon realize my word of warning was not merely threatening enough to keep them away.

i was standing beside the grill where my mother was cooking some of the freshly marinated mystery meat when a grin appeared on my mother's lips. "hi," she smiled. "heard you came through the back door, smart." she added, causing me to spin around to find the two men from the highway along with a tall slender woman, holding a katana and a younger boy wearing a brown sheriff's hat wandering towards us. "you'll fit right in here." she added, flipping a small portion of meat.

shit.

"hey mary, could you fix each of these new folks a plate for me?" alex asked, briefly looking across at me, giving me a weak nod.

that's when he looked at me, his eyes filled with a type of betrayal that cut deep. only when the woman with dark brown hickory dreadlocks spoke.

"why do you do it?" she asked, stopping a few feet away from the grill that alex and i stood in front of. "why do you let people in?"

alex offered them a smile, taking two plates from my mother's hands. "the more people become a part of this, we get stronger." he explained, a sentence i had heard dozens of times. "that's why we put up the signs," my eyes met the man's standing behind the woman, his face now clean from blood. "invite people in. it's how we survive." alex continued, began to wander over to the younger boy, extending one of the plates to him before mumbling, "here." before giving the second plate to the woman.

i took the next set of paper plates from my mother before wandering across to the two men who i had met on the highway mere hours before. his eyes were now focused on alex, scanning his body carefully before stopping at the pocket watch that dangled from his waist. his icy blue eyes snapped in my direction as i took another step closer, and all in a heartbeat he had smacked the plates of food from my hand before wrapping one hand across the top of my chest, pulling me up against his chest as the end of his gun rested against my temple.

"where the hell you get that watch?" the man snapped, looking at alex as he kept my body restrained against his.

"put the gun down!" alex stressed, stepping back as the stranger's weapons rose, creating a spaced-out semi-circle defending the unappointed leader of the small group.

my hands latched onto his forearm, trying to ease the immense amount of pressure he had applied to my chest. "you want answers handsome?" i sneered, my voice lower as my face paralleled his. "put down the gun 'n i'll give 'em to ya." i tired to bargain, keeping my voice low.

"i see your man on the roof with a sniper rifle." he spat, tightening his grip across my decolletage as his fingers dug into my shoulder. "how good's his aim?" he snickered, his hot breath blowing onto my cheek before he turned his attention back to alex. "where'd you get the watch?" he yelled, his voice demanding and stern.

"don't do anything! just put the gun down!" alex's instructed, his voice weary and riddled with nerves.

i let out a sigh as i noticed alex trembling, his very cowardness making me roll my eyes. "i've got it." i muttered, causing alex to look at me before turning to the sniper on the roof. "tell 'em to back off." i instructed.

although the idiot was my brother, it didn’t mean i liked him. he cowered at the first sign of danger, his entire body would shake and he could be incapable of forming a complete sentence without becoming a stuttering mess. so when he turned back to look at our mother, it didn't surprise me that he wanted her approval.

"back down!" mary yelled, causing the sniper from the rooftop to disappear.

"listen to me." i snapped, keeping my voice relatively quiet giving us some sort of privacy as everyone stood three or four feet away. "there's a lot of 'em, be smart about this," i whispered near his ear, causing him to shoot me a look of disgust.

"where'd he get the watch?" the man repeated, beginning to sound a little like a broken record.

scoffing at his question, i turned my head a little more, his coarse beard tickling my cheek. "i don't know." i hissed. "i got here an hour before you did." i spat.

"what about the riot gear?" he questioned, turning his body to face a man a few meters away covered in black riot gear, taking my body with his as he spun again to face a blonde woman wearing a red poncho. "the poncho?" he snapped in my ear.

before i could respond, my brother walked into the courtyard, his hands up by his shoulders. "got the riot gear off a dead cop." gareth explained, the man spinning in the direction of my brothers voice, taking me with him. "found the poncho on a clothesline." he added.

i pushed myself onto the tips of my toes and leaned into his before whispering, "don't trust him."

the stranger flashed me a look of confusion before turning his focus to my brother, breifly point his gun at gareth before pushing it back into the side of my head.

"you talk to me!" he demanded.

"what's there left to say?" gareth queried, his eyebrows pinching together as he continued. "you don't trust us anymore."

"gareth!" i snapped, only for him to bitterly snap, "shut, up. it's okay." he took in a breath of air before continuing. "rick what do you want?" gareth asked.

rick. now i had a name for the idiot that didn't listen to me.

"where are our people?" rick yelled, his grip tightening even further as my skin began to turn into an ivory white from the pressure.

a devilish laugh escaped from gareths lips. "you didn't answer the question."

bullet shells littered the floor. a bullet scrapped across my shoulder causing me to fall to the group as rick and his people ran off. by the time i had gotten back up to my feet they were gone and the commotion had gone with them.

⋆☆⋆

watching gareth’s goons bring in rick and few other people from the train cars and lining up along the slop trays, i stood by gareth with my assault rifle in hand. eight men were lined up, each of them squirming and fidgeting as butchers worked beside them on medical tables, cutting into the bodies of unidentified victims. victims that had been taken while i was gone.

“alright.” gareth mumbled, giving his goons the okay to complete the brutal task of taking out each of the men.

a man with a bat swung the silver weapon hitting a young blonde man on the opposite end to rick and the other man from the highway. as he fell unconscious, a second man wearing a clear apron using his hand to pull up his head before slicing his throat, allowing a crimson fountain to spew from his neck into the tray.

the men began to grunt and scream as the goons moved along to the next victim. as i stood beside gareth, i looked across to find him watching each slaughter intently. he was no longer my brother. in the weeks that i had been gone gareth had turned into an unrecognizable monster. i had known about the cannibalistic urges that had consumed gareth before i left but when i returned, i had discovered how bad it had become.

“what are you doin’ this for?” i asked in a hushed whisper, my eyes remaining focused on rick and the man from the highway as they stared right back at me. “they look somewhat useful.”

i could feel gareth’s eyes watching me, his eyes burning holes into the side of my head before turning his attention back to the slop trays. “they’re threats.” he answered plainly. “hey guys!” gareth called out, catching the attention of his goons. “what were your shot counts?” he asked, pulling out a note book and pencil from his back pocket.

“38.” the man with the knife answered, standing behind the next victim waiting for them to be knocked out.

“hey!” gareth yelled, catching the attention of the good with the bat. “your shot count?” he asked.

“crap man, i’m sorry.” he sighed, causing gareth to let out a disappointing sigh. “it was my first round up.” the man weakly defended.

“after you done here, go back and count the shells.” gareth instructed. “kaylee won’t be gathering them until tomorrow.” he added, beginning to write a note down in his book. “four from a, four from d.” he began to count, wandering closer to the remaining men.

a man beside rick, that i hadn’t seen before began to squirm before grunting, “hey, let me talk to you for a minute.” his voice was muffled as he repeated, “let me talk to you!”

gareth sighed before reaching out to the man, pulling the cloth from his mouth. “what?” he spat.

“don’t do this.” he pleaded. “we can fix this.”

“no you can’t.” gareth replied nonchalantly, attempting to pull the cloth back into the mans mouth as continued to reason with my brother.

before gareth could put the cloth into the mans mouth, he continued. “you don’t have to do this.” he repeated. “we told you theres a way out of all of this.” he tried to reason, taking a few heavy breaths before continuing. “you just have to take a chance. we have a man that knows how to stop it.”

did he mean a cure?

gareth looked up from his book. “he has a cure. we just have to get him to washington.” the desperate man explained. “you don’t have to do this man. we can out the world back the way it was.”

“we can’t go back bob.” gareth mumbled, finally shoving the cloth into bobs mouth causing him to mumble gibberish.

he then knelt down in front of rick, taking the cloth from his mouth before muttering, “saw you go into the woods with a bag and come out without it.” he paused for a second, rick turning his head to the right by half an inch. “had to pull my spotters back before we could go look for it.” gareth explained. “what was in it?” he asked, waiting for ricks response but got nothing. “you hid it right? incase things went bad. smart.” he weakly grinned. “we’ll find it but it’s too dangerous to go out there right now.”

gareth had become to desperate. he pulled his knife out of his pocket, pointing it at bobs neck. “what was in it?” he snapped. “i’m curious, and it was a big bag. you really gonna let me do this?” he asked, flicking his head in bob’s direction.

“well let me take you out there.” rick responded, no doubt pissing gareth off more then he already was. “i’ll show you.” he continued.

“not gonna happen.” gareth responded sharply. “this might.” he added, once again his head motioning towards bob.

“there’s guns in it.” rick finally answered. “ak 47, 44 magnum, automatic weapons, night-scope, a compound bow and a machete with a red handle.” he listed. “thats what i’m gonna use to kill you.”

bold. threatening your captor as he had a knife pressed up to your friends neck? very bold.

gareth laughed, shoving the cloth back into his mouth before patting ricks shoulders. “thanks.” he smiled, walking back towards me as he put his notebook into his back pocket. “you have two hours to get them on the dryers. i’m gonna go back to the public face. we need to dial it all in by sundown!” he instructed.

but before his goons could respond, gunshots came from outside and just as gareth went to radio more of his men, a ground shaking boom went off causing us to all loose balance.

“stay here until i know what’s going on!” gareth yelled, running out of the room, leaving me and three of his goods with the four prisoners.

“so we just sit here?” the man asked me as i regained my ground, standing on my feet with my rifle firmly in my hand.

“you got a job to do.” i instructed, motioning towards the men that was fallen.

this was one of the few times i was grateful to be on gareths good side. i had a silencer attached to the end of my assault rifle which allowed me to take down the two butchers on the other side of the room without the brainless goons noticing. and with two more shots - each of them to the head - both of those brainless goons were on the floor, leaving the four prisoners startled.

slinging my gun over my shoulder i ran over to the four men, pulled my knife out the black leather holster strapped to my thigh. i knelt down, cutting the zip ties that had been used to keep them restrained. as i began to cut bobs i looked across and rick and the others.

“out that door, theres a hallway that leads to the armoury, all your shits in there.” i explained, motioning my head towards the door gareth had gone through moments prior. “you get your people ‘n get outta here.” i added, moving across to rick, beginning to cut through the tie.

“thank you.” bob spoke, his voice shaky but genuine as he stood up to begin searching the room for a weapon. “why are you helping us?” he asked.

i scoffed as i cut through rick’s zip tie, allowing him to stand up, following bob’s actions of looking for a weapon. “i should’ve taken down all those stupid signs.” i muttered, moving along to the man from the highway, beginning to cut through the zip tie.

“why didn’t you?” rick asked, his hand pointing at me accusingly.

“i thought he might’ve changed!” i snapped, moving along to the final prisoner. “doesn’t matter now,” i mumbled to myself. “i can get out to that tree-line where y’all hid your bag in about five minutes.” i announced to the group of men. “i’ve got a view of the train yard from there so i can keep an eye out for you and your people.”

“why should we trust you?” rick muttered, his voice bitter and mistrusting as i freed the last man. "you could've told us this place wasn't safe."

i stood up, handing my knife to the man i had just freed before turning to the others. "do you have dementia?" i asked rhetorically. "i warned you assholes not to come here." i snapped, taking a step closer to rick, looking up into his eyes as i muttered, “you don’ have to listen to me, but my brother’ll kill the lot of yer the first chance he gets.”

rick did nothing. he just stared at me. rolling my eyes at the mans stubbornness, i pushed past him, wandering towards a door that led out to the courtyard, disappearing from their sight.

⋆☆⋆

i watched ricks group - larger then i thought- run towards the tree line i had been hiding in for the past hour or so. hundreds of geeks swarmed terminus as flames bellowed from the numerous builds and warehouses. by the time i had reached the group they were preparing to leave. swinging my gun over my shoulder - not wanting the significantly large group to think i was a threat - i quietly approached them. as i grew closer, i made the idiotic mistake of stepping on a dried stick, sending a loud crack throughout the woods.

"the hell are you doin' 'ere?" the man from the highway spat, pulling away from a lady that had short grey hair.

"i just saved your life jackass, a thanks would be nice." i snapped, continuing to walk closer to group.

a tall man with amber hair and a thick mustache stepped forward from the outer circle of the group, both his hands holding onto some sort of military grade machine gun. "i'm sorry honey, who the hell are you?" he asked in an even thicker southern accent then ricks.

"she saved our lives." a man spoke sternly, his hand extended holding my bowie knife i had given him no more then an hour prior. it was the man from the slop trays. "here." he smiled.

"save is a strong word." rick muttered, his eyes meeting mine a few seconds later. his hand sat on his hip - which seemed to be a habit of his - while the other wiped the bottom half of his face. "we barely made it out alive." he spoke a little louder.

choosing to ignore rick's idiotic comment, i turned my attention to bob. "you." i pointed at the stranger. "you serious about that cure?" i asked.

bob nodded along to my question before turning a dark haired man standing beside the taller redheaded man. he had a black mullet and a poorly shaven face, he was also shaking as he stepped forward, one hand rising into the air as he spoke, "that would be correct ma'am." he answered, also having a thick southerner accent. "my names eugene porter and i know the cure to save this mess." he spoke proudly.

"you still need a ride to washington?" i asked, my attention remaining on the two men standing beside each other.

"we-well yess ma'am." eugene stammered.

"i know a place 'bout a days way from here." i noted, nodding my head in the general direction. "s'got a bus round the back, s'been there since the beginnin'." i added, the very news making the two men smile.

"nah." the man from the highway grumbled, causing me to spin in his direction as i let out a sigh of frustration. "las' time we listened to you we ended up 'ere." he spat bitterly, throwing his hand across his chest as his jaw clenched.

"sorry, listened to me?" i repeated sarcastically, my eyes widening in shock as the man stood there, looking at me as if he was ready to knock me out. "i told you fuckin' idiots to stay the hell away." i spat, my voice unintentionally rising as i grew more frustrated.

"hey!" the man with the moustache hissed, causing me to spin back in his direction. "where the shit is this damn bus?" he demanded, taking another step closer to me.

i exhaled through my nose, trying to control my temper as i explained, "'bout a days trip." i repeated. "n' if it's alright with eugene i'd like to help-"

"you're not comin' with us." rick cut in, his voice forceful and alarming as he stepped closer to me, making sure his point was heard.

looking up at rick, who stood a foot or so away from me, i forced a smile onto my lips. "didn't ask you cowboy."

"hey!" another voice cut in, this time a woman i hadn't seen before. "she's got a bus, lets just check it out." she insisted, her eyes focused on rick as he seemed to be some sort of leader amongst the group.

"fine." he grumbled, his jaw remaining clenched as his head tilted to its side, another mannerism that he commonly did. "but hand over your weapons." rick bargained.

i turned to face rick, our bodies now parallel to each other as looked up at the infuriating man. "i ain't givin' you shit." i spat. "we're surrounded by geeks n'i need to protect myself." i explained, although nothing was getting through his dense stubborn head.

"it's not negotiable."

⋆☆⋆

walking up the squeaky white church steps behind ricks group, listening as he interrogated the priest that had let us into the church to begin with. it was poorly lit but well kept as we wall stood in the isle, listening to rick as he continued with his questions.

“how’d you survive here for so long?” he asked, holding his daughter, judith on his hip. “where did your supplies come from?” rick continued.

“luck.” the priest answered. “our annual canned food drive, things fell apart right after we finished.” he continued, a grin plastered on his lips. “it was just me.” he continued as rick passed his daughter to carl, who i had learned was his son. “the food lasted a long time, ‘n then i started scavenging. i’ve cleaned out every place near by.” he paused for a moment before continuing. “except for one.”

“what kept you from it?” rick asked, resting his hand on his hip.

“it’s overrun.”

thats how i ended up waist deep in mirky, geek filled water in a thrift store basement. it was a situation i did not intend on being apart of, but here i was, marching through the grey water to protect the wimpy priest had run and frozen to avoid an old withered librarian.

rick was taking down a near by geek that had lunged towards him in the blink of an eye, allowing me to take one step forward before grabbing onto the back of the librarians head. with all my body weight i pushed the decaying body toward a near by shelf, smashing the geeks head against the metal pole. the sounds of its skull cracking and its blood oozing down into the water let me know my job was done.

"grow a pair dude." i huffed, pushing decaying body into the water before scanning the near by shelf for canned goods.

sudden movement coming from the opposite side of the small flood room caught my attention seconds later. by the time i had tracked through the filthy water, sasha was lifting a plastic container above her head before slamming it down onto the head of the water bloated geek. once the commotion had simmered down, i spun around to collect more unspoiled cans only to bump right into rick.

our bodies pushed right up against one another as his calloused hands firmly held onto my shoulders. the sudden closeness caused me to freeze. his frame was undeniably larger then mine as his body towered over mine, a few damp curls falling forward as he looked down at me. as much as he was overbearing and generally unpleasant, i couldn't deny that he was somewhat alluring.

"you alright?" rick asked, pulling me out of my hypnotic state allowing my eyes to meet his.

i pulled myself away from his grip, weakly nodding. "fine." i mumbled, pushing past him to begin the tedious job of gathering all the canned goods.

⋆☆⋆

holding onto the wooden shovel with both my hands as i dug further into the ground, i heard chatter coming from inside the church. rick and his people were deciding what to do with my brother and the last remaining people of terminus. i continued to dig a shallow grave as the group squabbled and fought over the fate of people i used to call my friends and family. my back ached and my arms felt like jello as i finished off the four foot deep hole -no where near deep enough to bury each and every body - before turning to face the group.

“we’re burnin’ ‘em!” i announced, causing every pair of eyes to look over at me in the dimly lit moon light.

“why?” abraham asked, his voice sounding almost sarcastic as he stood meters away from me with bloodied fists. “this ain’t the time for barbecuin’ sweetheart.” he chortled, his very words causing me to scoff as i pushed the shovel to the ground.

“we’re burning them.” i repeated more clearly, taking a step or two closer to the group as i continued, “‘til there’s nothing left but bone ‘n ash.” i pushed my way past the group, making my way to the first body lying on the church floor. “now, you can either help me or fuck right off.” i spat as i picked up the mans hands, pulling them over my shoulders like a backpack before pulling the heavy corpse back outside.

a trail of deep red blood followed me as i pulled the body outside, nonchalantly dropping the body into the newly dug hole before marching back inside to find the group had dispersed, the only person remaining was rick. he stood and watched me closely as i made my way to the next bloodied body, beginning to pull their body towards the door.

“you jus’ gonna stand there ‘n watch me, or yer gonna help cowboy?” i asked, never once stopping as i neared the church steps.

without speakinh rick held onto the mans feet, lifting him up as he helped me carry the corpse down the steps before dumping it into the near by grave. we continued this same action two or three more times before we eventually reached my brother. i stood by the almost unrecognizable face, frozen as i had realized he was finally gone. my last piece of surviving family had been torn away from me in front of my very eyes but here i stood, helping the very man that killed him, drag his body out to the mass grave.

“you alright?” rick asked, his voice almost startling me after almost half an hour of silence.

i looked up at the man, his greying beard more prominent in this lighting as the moon shone through the church windows. “m’fine.” i hummed. “there wasn’t much left of him anyway.” i added, picking up his shoulder as rick picked up his feet.

another silence fell between us as we pushed my brothers body into the now full grave. as rick stepped back, i leant forward, grasping onto my brother as i search his pockets, finding a lighter. standing up, above gareth as he laid limp brought me a sense of closure as i sparked the lighter, watching the small orange flame flicker in the wind before dropping it into the grave. the bodies were soon engulfed in flames as i stepped back, sitting down on the near by steps where rick followed my actions.

“m’sorry about bob.” i spoke quietly, as the church doors blew shut while i watched the flames roar as smoke bellowed into the skies above.

“it wasn’t your fault.” he spoke calmly, almost authoritatively as he watched me closed from the other side of the steps, mirroring my action of leaning up against the balustrades.

i let out a breathy chuckle at ricks generic response. “i’ve been takin’ the blame for his shit since we were kids.” i mumbled, my laughter slowly fading as i was reminded of the terrible person he had become within the last year or so. “he wasn’t always like this you know.” i spoke, my voice a little softer, almost sympathetic.

“a cannibal?” rick questioned, a weak smirk creeping onto his lips as he looked across to meet my eyes.

i let out a giggle before muttering, “yeah.” i took in a deep breath of the cool night air, the smell of burning flesh now beginning to fill the air as the fire continued to grow. “‘nd ‘n asshole.” i added earning a weak exhale of laughter to slip from ricks lips. “he was actually a good guy, but this world changes people right?” i asked, my question filled with rhetoric intent but more or less sounded like a genuine question that required an answer.

“right.” rick replied.

i looked across at rick, his face lit up by the auburn flames detailing every feature, especially his eyes. “did it change you?” i asked after a beat of deafening silence, observing him as his eyes looked back at me.

i knew the answer. i think we both did. the world changed you, no matter who you were before, but as i sat beside rick, no more then a foot or so away from him i almost saw a glimpse of an older version of him. the way his eyes looked into mine and the way he had himself positioned showed me who rick was before all of this. he was no longer the up tight, overbearing asshole i had gotten to know over the past few days.

i turned to the side, my body now facing rick as i asked, “your not scared of me are you?” not giving rick an opportunity to answer my last question.

“could ask you the same thing.” he mumbled, his head cocking to the side as he now mirrored me, our bodies paralleled with one another.

a laughed escaped my lips as my eyebrows pinched together as i tried to decipher the meaning of bus question. “why should i be scared of you?” i teased, already building a list in my mind of all the reasons a normal person would fear rick grimes.

“i’ve killed people.” rick spoke quietly.

“who hasn’t?” i replied sarcastically, weakly shrugging my shoulders.

“innocent people.” he added.

“so have i.” i compared, knowing there was no possible way that anyone could top the things ive done. “‘nd not just at terminus.” i added. “we do what we need to survive.”

“i killed your people.” rick challenged. “your family.” he added, his head slightly tilted to the side as he waited for my response.

“trust me, if i had an inkling of love left for my family you’d be in a whole world’a hurt.” i teased, earning a breathy chuckle from the man before he lent in closer.

his soft breath tickled my cheek as he whispered, “threaten me again and i’ll have you begging for me to stop.”

“i don’t beg.”

“we’ll see about that.” he smirked, his accent more apparent then ever as he inched a little closer.

i mimicked his actions by inching closer, his breath now hitting my lip as i mumbled, “you are infuriating,” in a low whisper.

as his lips parted, his hand began to rise. it felt like an entire life time but within seconds, ricks lips hovered near mine - barely touching - as his hand connected with my neck. the near by fire crackled on as his lips met with mine with desirous and ravenous intention. momentarily out bodies swayed together before his hand snaked its way down my body before resting at the tops of my hips. and suddenly everything began to move so quickly. ricks hands tugged at my hips, leaving them partly exposed as he pulled me across to his lap. i craved a sudden closeness, pulling myself closer to rick our bodies molded together like two puzzle pieces.

rick leant upwards, kissing you with every fibre in his body had his hands controlled your hips movements while your hands latched onto the base of his neck. his beard prickled against your lips while your finger tip’s entangled themselves in his dampened curls. after a moment you could feel ricks hand inching upwards, his cool finger tips creeping beneath your tightly fitted shirt as small gasps and moans left your lips. ricks hands quickly made their way back down to your hips, bringing to roll them to create some friction between you.

“who’s beggin’ now?”

this was my first time writing rick so- this is defs terrible- i am so sorry

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smartycvnt · 1 year

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Feelings of Inadequacy

Title: Feelings of Inadequacy Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Reader Prompt: 27. "I'm not jealous, it's just that you're mine." R WC: 568

JJ watched nervously as you used one of the conference rooms to set up your station. It wasn't often that you came by to help the BAU with cases, but you were one of the best in your field. Penelope had reached out to you for the team, claiming that she didn't think they would get their heads out of their asses about this case long enough to contact you. You understood the hesitancy, especially since the last time you helped them had ended with you sitting in a holding cell for 48 hours. JJ didn't want you to get in trouble again, and Hotch wanted to protect Reid. Everybody understood where you were coming from, everybody except for Reid, but you had assured Hotch that if something was going to happen to Reid, you would have done it by now.

"If you're going to stand there, the least you can do is help me," you said without glancing back at JJ. She walked over and grabbed the binder out of your hands to set on the desk. "It's quiet, when is everybody supposed to show up?"

"They'll be here soon, don't worry." The team being in later wasn't what made you worried. JJ knew that you were dreading the forced interactions with Spencer. It was very obvious to you that Spencer liked JJ. He was always making you feel like you weren't good enough for her. Insecurity had always been a big issue for you, and when you had doubts of your own about whether or not JJ should be with someone better, days like these became hellish.

"Is Hotch's lapdog going to play nice today?" you asked as you finished plugging in your laptop. JJ sighed as she took a seat on the edge of the table. It was a fair enough question in your mind, but JJ could see that it wasn't a good starting point for the day. If there was going to be a day where you got in another physical fight with Spencer, it would be today. JJ set her hand on your shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.

"Be nice, for me. You have no reason to be jealous of Spencer. I love you, and only you," JJ reassured you.

"I'm not jealous, it's just that you're mine. You're mine, and he can't handle that, so he makes me feel like I'm holding you hostage or something. He says things all day that make me feel so fucking stupid and like my stupidity is tainting you. It's dumb, I know, but I can't help but feel like I'm not enough for you when I leave here," you told her. It was really the first time that you had voiced your feelings like that, and while JJ was grateful that you were being open with her, she wasn't sure what to say to make you feel better. Feelings hadn't exactly come easily for the two of you, but it was a work in progress.

"Like you said, I'm yours. I don't want to be with anybody else, not Spencer, not Will, not Emily, not Derek, nobody except for you," JJ said as she pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"I wouldn't blame you for Derek, he's got a way with words that would make a nun blush."

"Do I have something to worry about?" JJ asked jokingly.

"Nah, I prefer blondes."

#jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #my writing

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sailxrmxrs · 1 year

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i truly underestimated the sheer amount of brainrot watching trigun stampede would give me but here we go. this is the culmination of many nights spent scrolling vash fanart and letting the thoughts run wild. circumstances mean there's a gunfight happening and vash is there by your side trying to protect you but oops a bullet scraped past you and now he's taking you to safety asap to patch you up and fret over your wellbeing. protective vash being soft and flustered hits me directly in a weak spot he's just so.....y'know. love that little man.

Surviving in a hellish desert in the throes of summer was already an arduous task in its own right. Settlements and towns were miles upon miles apart, the distance feeling even longer when the horizon was a vast pool of sand as far as the eyes could see. Not to mention the perpetual thirst and hunger that ailed your body at any given time of day. The relief that coming across some semblance of civilisation brought was beyond words. However, enjoying such a sight was too often spoiled by hostile hosts or unsavoury groups. Travelling with Vash the Stampede meant there was never a boring moment, even if he did draw trouble like a magnet. Today was no different, under the unrelenting summer sun was the sound of gunfire. It had been like any other day until someone had recognised Vash and all hell broke loose. As soon as the gunfire started, you both dived for cover shortly before Vash charged off without a second thought to try and take care of things by himself. He always tried to insist that you remained out of danger despite knowing he was fighting a losing battle. Not once had you let Vash fight alone nor did you intend to start now. Pistol in hand, you held your own, immobilising anyone who came close enough. Never enough to fatally harm them, just enough to leave them unable or unwilling to keep fighting. Vash had been adamant that neither of you would be killers and you were more than happy to comply. Peaceful resolutions were few and far between but that didn't mean lives had to be lost for the sake of some gun fight over a money reward.

Surveying the area, you caught sight of Vash's familiar red coat. He artfully dodged a bullet flying his way, rolling behind a broken-down car for a momentary shelter. A perfect opening to make your way to him. Survival in numbers was always the winning move. You aimed your pistol, shooting at your assailant's feet and sending them off balance. It gave you enough time to jump to Vash's side, ducking just fast enough to dodge the bullet intended for you.

"What are you doing?! You never listen when I tell you to stay out of trouble," Vash complained, pouting as you caught your breath. It was almost impressive how he could sound so casual right in the middle of a direct attack on his life. He reloaded his bullets, lips still downturned though you knew he was secretly grateful for the backup. Even if Vash preferred to keep you out of harm's way, he never once doubted your ability to keep up with him.

"And let you have all the fun? No thanks." More gunshots struck the body of the car, swiftly ending any attempts at conversation. There would be time to talk things over later. First you had to get out with your lives in tact. You and Vash shared a look, silently communicating the usual plan of action and within an instant you were jumping back into the fray. In any other instance, being outnumbered would be cause for worry but with Vash at your side you knew that you would prevail. He hadn't earned his infamous reputation for nothing. Even if he was secretly far softer and much less prone to violence than the wanted posters suggested, his skill with a gun was on another level—though a decent helping of luck no doubt factored into his survival. Vash shouted over the cacophony of sounds, only just audible as he checked in with you. Even in the midst of battle Vash was as attentive as the situation allowed him to be. Every time you'd shout back that you were fine, that he should worry about himself but it did little to quell his worries.

The distant sound of cars approaching sounded from the deserted town centre. Whoever was leading this gang had called for backup and soon you and Vash were going to be surrounded. Your attackers were focused on Vash, intent on taking down the Humanoid Typhoon before worrying about the unnamed partner he'd found himself. He was worth a lot more in their eyes, which gave the perfect opportunity to slip away and take care of the threat before it became an even bigger problem. Usually you'd like to let Vash know if you were disappearing off somewhere but circumstance didn't allow it and you just had to hope he'd be able to find you once it was all over. You sprinted down past an old bar, its windows once boarded up but now littered with bullet holes. The place was certainly a ghost town. There had been no sign of life until a suspicious looking individual had emerged from the shadows asking who Vash was. There was no telling what troubles they'd caused here to clear out the townsfolk. Still, you couldn't dwell on maybes and what-ifs. What mattered here was getting out safely. And maybe finding some salvageable food and water to sustain you and Vash on the next leg of your journey.

Peeking out from an abandoned home, you caught sight of five men standing in what used to be the town centre. Whoever these people were they were no amateurs, at least judging by the size of their guns anyway. This could end poorly if you weren't careful. A more defensive approach was in order; sticking to the shadows to conceal your whereabouts was likely the only way you'd come out of this alive. You climbed through the broken window to the empty building beside you, making your way upstairs and onto the balcony. The wood of the balcony seemed to be holding together well enough to keep you mostly hidden from view with a few stray cracks and holes to keep an eye on your targets. It was the perfect spot to line up your gun and take aim without getting yourself caught too soon. You just had to hope the wooden barrier was enough to keep you from harm until you'd taken enough of them down. Your sight was limited, but even a few misses could suffice as warning shots to deter them from getting involved. On many occasions you'd watched grown men run screaming when a bullet struck metres away from their feet. All bark and no bite. Though something told you these men wouldn't go down quite so easily. Your intuitions proved accurate, the blind shots doing little to scare them off.

Within a few shots, your position was compromised and your targets had begun their own onslaught of bullets. A number of bullets struck the balcony though you still remained out of sight for the time being, the few hits you'd managed to land working in your favour to skew their aim. Judging by the speed at which they shot, you'd need to make a move. And fast. If one of them decided to make a run for the house you'd be without a solid escape route. Then, a bullet came flying, striking a wood panel beside you and giving your attackers a direct chance to shoot. You leapt up from your spot, running back into the house to make your escape. Footsteps thundered up the stairs leaving you no choice but to engage. Despite his imposing size, the man was not well-trained in close combat. His moves were predictable and clumsy, leaving one too many openings for you to take advantage of and send him crashing down unconscious. One threat down meant only four more to take care of. Then there was Vash and whatever chaos he was involved in right now. You couldn't let your concern for him cloud you judgement, pushing those fears aside as you made your way down and back out of the window you'd climbed in from. Gunshots were firing at an alarming rate though there was little strategy in it. They didn't know where you were just yet. Waiting behind the wall to the house, you let them edge closer before ambushing them with a fresh round of bullets. Now that you were on ground level, you could see two of the assailants holding back, no weapons in sight—though there was no counting on them being unarmed.

As shots fired, you tried to manoeuvre around the onslaught of ammunition but without sufficient cover you couldn't escape the scrapes of a few bullets. Cursing under your breath as one shot past your cheek and split the skin, you heard a familiar voice calling your name. Vash. He was running like a fire had been lit inside of him. There was an intensity upon his face that you rarely ever saw. Even in the most dangerous and dire of situations, Vash always managed to send you a beaming smile. He was truly the embodiment of sunshine. But right now he was the eye of a storm crashing over all in its wake. He was ruthless with his shots, each one striking true and sending your attackers to the ground. Still alive, but perhaps wishing they weren't. The two men who had been hanging back and watching remained out of Vash's line of sight and, for the time being, out of danger. Not if you could help it. Raising your gun, you set onto the two remaining assailants. They were quick to return fire as they backed towards their car.

"Let them go. We need to get out of here," Vash called, making his way over to you. "Are you oka—" Vash halted mid-sentence, spotting the slow drip of blood down your cheek. Without another word, he was scooping you into his arms and running despite your protests. It was a minor injury, not one to panic over. But Vash didn't seem to think so. He carried you off to the other side of town, making for one of the abandoned homes still in good enough shape to act as sufficient shelter. He sat you down on an old leather couch, the material torn up and worn, as he rummaged through drawers in the neighbouring kitchen to look for something to clean the wound with.

"Can I trust you to stay there while I go back to our car? Assuming it's still in one piece, that is," Vash asked, eyeing up with caution. Worried knitted his brows as he contemplated leaving you here alone and unprotected.

"I can walk, you know? It's just a little scratch."

Vash shook his head, blonde hair as animated as his expression. "Doctor's orders."

"You're not a doctor."

"Am now. Stay there." Vash made for the doorway before turning back to add, "I'm glad you're okay."

When he returned with some supplies, Vash set to cleaning your wound. The bleeding had long since stopped but he was adamant that it required his utmost attention. His movements were gentle as he wiped away the dried blood with a dampened rag of fabric while his other hand softly holding your chin in place. He always touched you with a delicate sense of care, but this felt almost as if he were scared to break you any further. Despite his tenderness, something darker seemed to linger in Vash's face. As if he felt guilty for not being there just that little bit sooner. None of this was his fault. There was no way to predict such an attack would happen. It was simply the way of the land. Whether Vash viewed it that way or not was another matter entirely. Once he deemed you cleaned up and devoid of any other injuries, Vash tossed aside the cloth and leaned forward in his seat. He was uncharacteristically quiet, usually full of energy after making a safe escape from a fight.

"Vash?" Your voice was low, tentative so as not to startle him. "Please don't blame yourself for what happened out there. I'm fine, see?"

His eyes remained fixed on a hole in the flooring as he responded. "They came after us because of me. You got hurt because I wasn't fast enough."

"No." You immediately denied his admissions of guilt, edging closer to place your hands on his cheeks. They were as soft as usual, tinted pink from sun exposure. His eyes were glistening, tears threatening to spill down those rosy cheeks. "This isn't your fault, Vash."

"I was so scared. I thought I'd taken care of the last of them then I turn and see you're gone. I heard gunshots and—" He paused, voice cracking. "You don't know how I relieved I was to see you still alive."

Your heart ached, knowing all too well the fear that had likely stricken him in that moment. "I promised that we were in this together, didn't I? Can't go breaking it just yet." You smiled, heart fluttering at the sight of Vash mirroring the action. Your thumb swiped at a stray tear as you left a soft kiss on the bridge of Vash's nose. His cheeks warmed a deeper shade as he tried to pull away. He flustered easily but still tried to hide it every time to no avail.

"Think we're good here for the night? We could do with sleeping in an actual bed for once. One more night in the car might actually kill me."

Vash nodded, hands finding yours as he pulled you up from your spot on the couch. "Practice for the future, hm? All cosy in a little house. Could be nice. So long as you don't mind the bounty, that is."

"It's worth it if it's you." Vash's hold on your hands dropped, his hands moving to cover his bright, blushing face. Your laugh chimed with the sound of his whining complaints. What the future held in store for you and Vash was unknown, but you were certain that so long as he was smiling, all would be well.

#trigun x reader #vash x reader #trigun stampede x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun fanfic #2023 is the year of wolfwood n vash occupying 87% of my brain space #and honestly i don't mind this is great #no number of fics involving this man will sustain me he's just so #anyway goodnight to vash enjoyers and vash enjoyers only #anna writes

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starlightsearches · 2 years

Note

do you think eddie is into facefucking 😳

Teenage Rebellion

Excellent question, friend! I probably could have answered this with a yes or no, but I wrote something instead. I hope that's okay with you 💖 Posting this at midnight because I'm insatiable.

Eddie Munson x Gender Neutral Reader

Comments, likes and reblogs are my favorites 🥰

Warnings: NSFW (18+ only), Eddie and the reader are both 18+, inexperienced! Eddie, Eddie is self-conscious 🥺, mentions of masturbation (m), oral (m receiving), facefucking, cum swallowing, language and I think that's it!

The old janitor's closet reeks with the heavy smell of cleaning supplies—bottles in neat rows on shelves paradoxically covered in dust. There's no light switch, just a window high on the wall, pale sun pouring in and filtering down through the musty air.

Eddie can hardly see you in the murky darkness, still reeling and off-balanced after being yanked from the hallway.

You smile up at him, wetting your lips with your tongue.

"Hi."

"Oh. Hi,” Eddie whispers back. He’s already a little light-headed—maybe because there's no ventilation in the closet, or maybe just because you're in here with him. You always manage to take his breath away.

He's got no chance of getting it back when you wrap your arms around his waist, fingers slipping underneath his jacket, just brushing his ribs.

“I missed you.”

That's what you say, but your wandering hands speak louder. He’s having trouble making out the sounds.

“Baby,” he says, and he hopes you’ll ignore the nerves in his laugh, “we only saw each other a couple hours ago.”

But he hadn't wanted to say good bye then, either. Pulling the passenger door to his van shut before you could jump out, he'd kissed you good bye again, and again, and again, covered your face in pecks until the bell rang and you demanded he let you go, fighting your own delight. School was hellish; being alone with you was the closest he'd ever get to the opposite.

You pout a little, tracing you finger down front of his chest, right over the devil face on the front of his hellfire shirt. “So you didn’t miss me?”

He inches closer, resting a shaking hand at your waist. Touching you still feels like a fever dream, no matter how many times he's done it. “I didn’t say that.”

Your head thumps lightly against the door when he kisses you, cupping your jaw, taking in the smell of your skin, admiring how soft you could be as your hands grip the front of his jacket.

Eddie shivers, his nerves directly attuned to your touch—your wet spit on his skin, your neck warming the metal of his rings.

You part from him for just a moment, exhaling a shaky breath, and his legs go numb at the sound of it.

"Don't you," —god, you have to feel him shaking—a firework with a lit fuse, and he's not sure what will happen when he finally goes off— "shouldn't you be in class?"

He'd hoped talking might slow you down, but no dice. He feels your lips at his neck.

"Study hall," you whisper, your tongue just barely peeking out, drawn along the column of his throat, "you?"

"English. We were—fuck—we were talking about, uh, sonnets."

There's the scrape of your teeth, your tongue, and Eddie should probably be embarrassed at the sound he makes, a sound anybody on the other side of the flimsy door could hear if they happened to be walking by. You lean back, admiring your work—the red-purple mark that must be blooming against his pale skin. He'd never be able to hide it, on the front of his neck, right below his jaw.

Not that he'd ever want to.

You've got your fingers curling in his hair, pulling him close again, a puppet on strings. "Don't worry about it. I'll fill you in later."

He could not give less of a shit about sonnets right now, not when you're on him, feverish and wild, tasting him and touching him and wanting him.

And it's never been like this before. He'd always thought those kisses during study sessions (filled with waaaay too much studying, in his opinion) were just your way of rebelling—a little taste of danger. You'd ride to school in his car, listen to music loud enough to shake the windows, kiss him whenever he asked a question too stupid for you to answer. Teenage rebellion at it's finest.

That's not what this is, though—not with your fingers fumbling at his belt.

"Woah," he steps back on reflex and then regrets it immediately. It gives you just enough room to slide to your knees. "Uh, what're you doing?"

You're looking so fucking pretty, goddamn it. Smiling up at him, light glinting in your eyes as you slip the belt from the buckle, you start working on the button of his pants. "Are you scared, Eddie?"

"No." Yes. God, the sight of you on your knees, how could he not be fucking scared?

He wasn't trying to be a creep or anything, but he's thought about it before (thought about it a lot). Still, he didn't think it would actually happen. Didn't want to push his luck.

Turns out he's got more luck in him than he thought.

You're pulling at his zipper, and he's doing everything he can to stay standing, eyes on the ceiling, counting his breaths once you've got your fingers on his cock. Your hand is softer than his own. It's nothing compared to the softness of your mouth.

"Holy shit."

You wrap your lips around the head of his cock, little rivulets of spit rolling down his shaft, and he's got both hands planted against the door—so he can stay standing, so he can watch. Just in case it's just a dream—or worse—in case it never happens again.

You lean off him, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand before you dribble some spit into your palm—stroking him up and down, up and down, watching him with mischief in your eyes. His hands curl into fists at the feel of it, rings denting the cheap wood of the door.

"Does that feel good?"

"Fuck, yeah. It feels good, feels really—"

Whatever he was going to say next is lost, obscured in the moan he lets loose when you run your tongue over the head, sinking over him again until your hand brushes against your lips.

He tastes blood, teeth sinking into his knuckles as he tries to keep himself quiet. He'd never have guessed it would feel this good, his hips shifting forward of their own accord, chasing that intoxicating sensation.

You make a choking sound at the back of your throat, and he feels the pressure around the tip of his dick, knees ready to buckle.

"Shit, shit—I'm sorry," Eddie's pushing you off him, a hand on your shoulder, trying not to think about the shining spit covering your mouth, little strings of it still connected to his cock.

He should have told you the truth, even if you would have walked away and never talked to him again, even if you'd laugh. He's got no idea what he's doing, and he'd never thought you could mess shit up being on the receiving end of a blowjob, but hey—you learn something new every day.

You don't go anywhere, though. You stay on your knees, reach out to him even, your fingers tracing up the inside of his thigh.

"You're not gonna hurt me, Eddie," you tell him, guiding his hand from your shoulder, leading him over your neck, only stopping when he's cupping the back of your head in his splayed palm.

You open your mouth, eyes wide and on him, sinking his cock back into the exquisite heat of your mouth.

Your fingers wrap around the back of his knee—bracing yourself—but you don't move this time, eyes wide and on him.

Waiting for him to make a move.

He forces himself to hold back, starting slow as he can manage, focusing on the tug of your lips, the way your cheeks hollow around him and tears well up in your eyes with each measured thrust.

"Fuck, baby." He can't help the snap of his hips, growing more forceful the longer he looks at you. Can't help but fixate on the little gagging noises you start to make, how your fingers squeeze tighter. The way your throat grips at him has got him seeing stars.

He'd always hoped he'd last longer than this. He thought he would last longer than this, considering how often he'd tugged at his cock picturing this exact scenario in all kinds of places, but his imagination was way off and you feel way too fucking good.

Sparks are crawling up his legs, down his spine, converging at a point low and hot in his stomach, and he knows there's no avoiding it anymore.

"Baby, fuck, I'm gonna— I dunno where you want me to—"

Probably something he should have asked before hand—considering how busy your mouth is—but you get your point across clear enough, nails digging into the backs of his thighs, pulling him deep into your throat.

Eddie spills inside you—going off like a bomb—his whole body shaking as pumps you full of load after load. He didn't even know he had that much cum inside him, but you swallow it all down, pulling off his dick with a wet pop.

"Jesus H. Christ."

He's breathing like he ran a goddamn marathon, feeling like he just came back from war. He steadies himself against the shelves, rattling the bottles with how much he shakes as he tucks himself back into his jeans. The feeling of your spit and his cum smearing across his hand has him half-hard all over again.

You climb back to your feet, smiling at him so wide, mouth raw and shining when you pull him in for another kiss, and he grips you by the back of your neck, keeping you in place. He'll never get tired of tasting you.

You're playing with the chain at his neck, arms wrapped around him as you lean back, wearing a big smile like you're the one who just got the soul sucked out of them. He knows he's gotta have a goofy-ass grin of his own right now, but he can't seem to care.

"You should probably get back to class," you whisper; he's got no idea what you're talking about, until he can glance away from you long enough to remember where he is.

"Right . . . sonnets."

He catches up quickly enough, but makes no move to leave, stroking a hand over your cheek. He'd fail out of a thousand classes if it meant he could spend more time with you.

"We could meet up tonight, maybe? After hellfire? I'll quiz you on everything you learned."

He nods in agreement, still grinning as you slip out of his arms, sneaking through a crack in the door.

No way in hell were you getting any studying done tonight.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie the freak munson #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #minors dni #requests #anons

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dwangan-wonpwa · 5 months

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you know. small "before dice was an 'official' organization" hc (in my personal "hellish military academy" backstory for kokichi [mentioned here] that i've left in the back of my fridge and had NOT been working on for several months)

younger kokichi: these suckers. not sure why they're sticking around me, but they're perfect pawns to help me be free from this place. easy to use, easy to sacrifice. so there's no way i'm gonna put in the extra trouble of taking them with me.

younger kokichi, several arcs later, after he throws away a chance to escape in order to save his unofficial subordinates from danger because he got attached to them: FUCK

#kokichi in the kg looking at gonta: ah yes. i wouldn't consider him dice-worthy but he'll be a good pawn to- *GETS ATTACHED AGAIN*#dwangan's posts #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #drv3 #new danganronpa v3 #ndrv3 #kokichi ouma #ouma kokichi #kokichi oma #oma kokichi #danganronpa dice #dice danganronpa #danganronpa d.i.c.e #d.i.c.e

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finn-m-corvex · 6 months

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Whumptober Day 23: Stalking

Day 23! Another one that was giving me some trouble until I finally settled into a rhythm! This one is a bit clunky at some points, but I think it's fine. If anything it just adds to the charm!

Taglist: @splinnters @abigailxoxo @tornoleander @mondothebombo @ghostwalloper @toastingpencils37 @lightning-chicken

Words: 2.1k

There was something following him.

But Jay couldn’t figure out what it was.

After having a hellish last night and needing some sort of distraction, he had only been sent on a simple grocery store run, just for a few items for Zane to make for dinner, and it wasn’t supposed to take more than an hour at most. Staying on the phone with Nya the whole time definitely added to his time, but it was necessary unless the team wanted Jay to come back with the most random shit in the store instead of the actual groceries. Crossing things off of the paper list that Zane printed out for him, Jay also made sure to tell Nya when he got an item, where she would then cross it off on her own list to mitigate his habit of doodling on the paper.

Sue him, he got bored and needed something to do with his hands.

Now, two hours later, Jay finally started to walk home with all of the required items (and a can of cream cheese frosting that he and Nya were going to share), and this was supposed to be the easiest leg of the journey after the ADHD hell known as grocery shopping on a budget.

Jay didn’t comment on the footsteps that seemed to follow him for the past two blocks, instead only keeping one ear open for them and listening to Nya with the other. The grocery trip had done wonders for keeping his anxiety down at the moment. Stepping in the puddles littering the sidewalk made him antsy, but at least it made listening out for the footsteps a little easier. Nya was complaining about Kai, saying something about how much room his hair gel was taking up in the bathroom and how he was being a shower-hog. If Jay wasn’t preoccupied then he most likely would’ve been joining in.

“--can you believe that?! You take up three whole shelves of the bathroom cabinet for your stupid hair products but it’s my problem because I have too much skin care stuff?! Ugh!”

“That’s awful,” Jay agreed. He learned a long time ago how to do the verbal smile and nod trick with Nya, and he hoped that she would never pick up on it.

“Right? I can’t even deal with him. I ought to throw his hair gel straight off the side of the Bounty.”

“But we both know that you won’t,” the footsteps behind him changed, and Jay’s lungs tightened when he realized that the stranger had stepped off the street and into an alley. That wasn’t good.

He needed to switch up his route a bit. It would take longer, but that was fine; at least the stranger shouldn’t be able to follow him across the street without him noticing.

Crossing was easy, and Jay made sure to go over as many puddles as possible so that the person would have no choice but to make noise. Noise was good, because noise was going to keep him safe, and Jay was great at making noise. As long as he kept Nya talking, then he should be okay.

That didn’t mean it was good for his anxiety though. Walking around Ninjago City at night never scared him when he was in uniform, but when he was walking in his civvies? Not a great feeling. Someone really had to talk to the mayor about getting the bulbs in the streetlamps replaced, because every other one was out and Jay found himself almost sprinting to make it to each one. And to make it even worse, he didn’t bring any of his weapons with him.

Nya didn’t pick up on his inner distress when the footsteps picked back up, right back behind him like nothing happened. “Yeah, I guess I won’t. But he’s on thin fucking ice.”

“And being the master of fire doesn’t help,” Jay always made stupid puns when he was nervous.

“Jay,” Nya sighed, and despite everything that was going on it still made Jay feel a bit better.

The footsteps grew closer, and Jay was tempted to just throw the groceries on the ground and sprint away. Surely the others would understand once they heard his reasoning, right? But Jay knew that he couldn’t do that, both because Zane might actually say something unkind to him and Cole might kick his ass for ruining dinner, and Jay didn’t want to ruin dinner.

Step. Step. Step. Step.

Stomp. Stomp.

Stomp?

People needed to come with built-in rearview mirrors, and Jay was kicking himself for staying on the phone with Nya; if he had his phone free, he could’ve used his camera to check behind him and see who the hell was following him. Who the two people were, actually.

“Okay, Walker,” Jay mumbled, low enough that Nya wouldn’t hear it over her rambling, “you can do this. Just gotta get a little creative.”

If he took this next side street, made a left, crossed again up there and then ducked behind that one weird building that no one ever liked to walk past…

Yeah, he could make this work.

He was fairly sure that the only reason he wasn’t being jumped yet was because he was on the phone, and he needed to keep it that way. “Nya?”

“What’s up?” Nya asked, finally stopping whatever she was saying about Kai and giving him her full attention. Jay’s anxiety must’ve bled into his voice.

Turning left, Jay tucked himself closer to the buildings on his side, hoping that they might help him to hide away and blend into the background. Maybe he could try that cool thing people do in the movies where they shed their jacket and it’s like they’re a whole new person. Would that actually work? “I think I’m being followed. I need you to keep track of my location and pick me up at the corner of Avenue and Lint.”

Avenue was such a stupid street name, and whichever dryer company sponsored the creation of Lint Street needed to be banished to the Cursed Realm. Jay was quick to tell Nya this information, mostly because he didn’t want his pursuers to know that he was calling for help. Also because his anxiety was making him blurt the first thing that popped into his mind.

The grocery bags were getting harder to hold onto as his palms started to slick with sweat, and Jay tightened his grip and picked up the pace. Plastic digging into his fingers, Jay vaguely thought about whether or not the grocery bags could cut into his fingers, and maybe he could make a joke out of it.

“Hey,” he said, “do you think that if the bags were heavier, I would eventually start bleeding?”

“You know that’s not funny,” and yet Jay could hear the smile playing on Yang’s lips, because it was the kind of ridiculous question that only he would ask. “Alright, we’re on our way. Think you can make it there in ten?”

“Ten? What do you take me for? I’ll make it five.”

“If you make it five then you’re going to be early.”

“Shit, seriously?” Jay snickered despite the situation. “Well, you know me. Punctual is my middle name. Tell Cole that he better have twenty bucks ready for me.”

Something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye as he passed one of the alleys: a third person. Man, tall, long coat and a hat covering his face, watching for when Jay crossed the mouth of the alley, and Jay saw him move after him. Now there were three of them on his tail, and the shadows between the streetlamps were stretching longer and longer out. These people knew what they were doing.

This was only more apparent to Jay when a fourth figure stepped out in front of him to block his way.

Gotta change course again. “Change of plans, might be there in ten minutes after all,” Jay ground out, taking a deep breath and turning abruptly to walk across the street. He really hoped that a car wasn’t going to come barreling down this road.

“How many are after you?” Nya asked, alarmed. Jay felt the same way.

“Four, I think. They’re trying to box me in.”

He heard the sound of keys clacking; Nya must’ve relocated to the main control room. “Hold on, I’m pulling up the security cameras so I can track you.”

“Can’t you just see my location through your phone?” Jay asked, his heart hammering away in his chest. The anxiety from before was starting to wash over him again, threatening to pull him under and not let him back up. Nya must’ve picked up on some of it, as she was quick to start reassuring him as she sifted through Kai’s too many tabs to find the security feeds.

“I can, but I need to be able to see how many are following you,” she explained. “Aha! I see you. You were right, there’s four, and—”

She stopped talking, and Jay’s stomach dropped. “Nya? What is it?”

“Jay, please tell me you have a weapon or your suit.”

“I don’t have either, why?” Jay walked faster, and he knew that he was making himself look more and more suspicious. “Nya?”

“They have guns,” Nya said breathlessly, fingers flying over the keyboard. She sounded worried. “You may have to fight them.”

“Not when I have the groceries,” and he turned the corner much faster than he needed to. If the people following him didn’t realize that Jay was aware before, they definitely knew now.

“I don’t give a flying fuck about the groceries, I need you to get home,” Nya said tightly. “Whatever you do, do not hang up this phone. Stay on the line with me.”

“If I don’t bring the groceries back then Zane and Cole will actually kill me—”

“And I’ll kill them if they do that,” Nya growled. “Stay on the phone, be ready to drop everything and run if I tell you to.”

His anxiety was raging around in his chest like a caged animal. Jay felt his lightning start to flicker under his clothes, but he did his best to keep it contained. The mayor had asked very nicely that the Ninja not use their elements in the city when there wasn’t an emergency, and Jay didn’t think that this qualified as an emergency. Putting as much force into his steps as possible did little to alleviate the anxiety; Jay felt like he was caught in a free-fall with a broken parachute.

Just keep moving. He had to keep moving. As long as he stayed on the move, they couldn’t catch him.

“Why didn’t I bring the suit?” he muttered angrily. Rage boiled in his blood, both at himself and at these people who thought that they could take on one of the most skilled fighters in all of Ninjago.

More clicking and clacking. “Because you didn’t think that this was going to happen, and it was just supposed to be something to ease your mind. Don’t be upset with yourself,” Nya assured, but it did little to make Jay feel better.

The distance between the lights was getting farther and farther apart, and Jay was glad that he knew how to navigate his way through the shadows. It was a new light every hundred feet, and then two hundred, then three, and suddenly…

Suddenly there was no more light.

Whoever was doing this had sabotaged the rest of the streetlamps.

Every instinct in Jay’s body was screaming. He knew how to fight in the shadows, but he did not have the ability to fight right now. Hands seemed to form out of the darkness, reaching for him, and Jay veered away from them as best as he could while staying on the sidewalk.

It had been seven minutes. Three minutes left.

“What are you doing?” Nya asked. Jay forgot that she was still watching him.

He couldn’t catch his breath. “There’s no more lights. T-There’s stuff trying to grab me.”

“No one’s trying to grab you, honey. I would be able to see them if they were trying to. But I do need you to pick up the pace a little bit; they’re catching up behind you.”

“Nya, I can’t see. There is no light.”

“You see the light blinking on the camera?” Nya asked, and Jay looked to the sky. Sure enough, there was a small red dot a ways away across the street. “Follow it. I’ve got your back, Jay.”

And the breath rushed back into his lungs for the final push. He could do this. He knew that he could do this. Tightening his grip on the bags once again, he pushed the sounds of the footsteps out of his mind and focused fully on the red dot. “I’m with you, Nya. Show me where to go.”

#ninjago #ninjago jay #finn's writing #ninjago nya #whumptober day 23 #whumptober 2023

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goblinpuppy35 · 5 months

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Bright Eyes

(Previous Chapter) - Part 6 - (Next Chapter)

Student Remus x Male Reader

Summary: The Marauders start to hang out with an unexpected new friend who Remus falls for.

TW: Intense bullying and assault.

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For the last couple of weeks the bags under Y/N's eye sunk deeper into his face. It had become a nightly tradition in the Slytherin dorm room, organised by the spiteful Luscious of course, to keep Y/N from sleeping as much as possible. It had started with all of his bedding being stolen resulting in Y/N shivering though the cold winter night. The next night he woke up with an unpleasant slimy sensation over his body and jumped out of bed horrified to find it full of large wet slugs. The worst awakening occurred when one particularly malicious student attempted to set Y/N's green hair on fire, fortunately he was able to dash to the nearest bathroom before any damage could be done.

At this point Y/N tried to plead for help from the Slytherin house teacher but as he woefully expected the elderly traditionalist refused to even consider such bullying was taking place under his house. Furthermore Y/N was reminded he was still a member of Slytherin and it was in his best interest to 'learn to get along with his pure blood peers'. Five points were taken from Slytherin for Y/N not acting as a 'team player' and an additional five for his overall appearance which from his lack of sleep was starting to look a little dishevelled. Y/N knew he was going to suffer for this later.

"Look on the bright side" Sirius said with his mouth full of sandwich "at least your stopping Slytherin from getting ahead of us for the house cup". The four boys were sat at the very back of the library as not to get in trouble for bringing in snacks as they "studied". Y/N and Sirius sat side by side while James leaned back in his chair using it's neighbour as a footrest. Remus himself had chosen to curl up on the window seal just above the table and was the only one reading his textbook yet his sharp hearing was keeping close attention to the conversation. "Yeah, once we thrash them in next weekend's match they will have no chance" James jeered with a toothy grin and Y/N chuckled back. The nights at Hogwarts had become hellish but he was always grateful that he could spend the whole day with his three friends who not only didn't mind his unique self, they celebrated it. "You know I would cheer for you guys but I feel there is already a bloody target on my back the size of a blodger" Y/N joked rubbing his temple.

"Is that why you've got no shoes on?" James question caused Y/N to sit up and instinctively hide his feet underneath his chair. His robe had concealed his missing footwear from teachers all day but several other students have given him funny looks. There was no need to hide this from the three Gryffindor boys though, Y/N knew they wouldn't hurtful make fun of him so with a sigh he stretched out his shoeless feet. "Some of my considerate house mates made the decision that my shoes would be of better use at the bottom of the lake than with me". In the corner of his eye Y/N noticed a minor shift of movement, as he turned to look he saw Remus had finally looked up from his book and his deep dark eyes were intensely staring at Y/N. Even though he didn't point it out Remus always seemed to be aware of when Y/N showed up with new cuts and bruise, Remus eyes displayed a level of sympathy but his firm brow brought on by anger often overcast them. Y/N would be lying to say he didn't like looking at Remus handsome face however the eye contact made him feel self conscious and the overall conversation about his bullying embarrassed him so he looked away.

"Here you go Y/N" Sirius said while fiddling with something under the table before producing his carve high black leather lace up boots and dramatically slammed them on the table. "Come on Sirius put them back on" Y/N protested but Sirius just grinned back "Mate I've got like six other pairs back in our dorm and we are the same size, come on let your fantastically dressed friend help you out!". Y/N did really like Sirius' boots so after another moment of hesitation took them off the table and carefully laced them up. "They look better on you" Remus said, the first actual sentence he had contributed to in the whole conversation. Sirius smile dropped and he was able to begin an elegant comeback towards Remus however upon looking down and seeing they did in fact look excellent on Y/Ns feet he simply pouted and slouched back into his chair, arms folded. This made the other three uproar with laughter, then a sharp "Shhhhh" echoes through the library which only made the four carry on laughing in hushed whispers.

The marauders stayed in the library with Y/N all afternoon and into the late evening, reading, joking and debating how easy it would be to sneak into the forbidden section of the library. Y/N saved every moment until to his dismay as the ninth chime of the clock rang out the shrill library ordered all the remaining students to return to their dorms. Begrudgingly Y/N bid his friends goodnight at the bottom of the staircase, he was turning around to leave when "Y/N, wait" made him halt. Remus had stayed behind as his friends chatted and ascended the stairs. "I promise you we will figure out a way to solve this", despite feeling hopeless in himself Y/N believed what Remus had said, or maybe he just wanted to. Smiling at the towering Gryffindor Y/N bid him another warmer goodnight and made his way down to the Slytherin dorms.

Along with Y/N's new addition of non school regulated boots he got even more unpleasant stares from the other students. Anywhere he chose to sit, those who were around him would deliberately move. Y/N didn't dare go into the bedroom from fear of what new cruel torment he might be subjected to. He sat on the window seat and read the DADA textbook Remus had lent to him, trying to mute his surroundings. After several chapters Y/N finally looked up and was relieved to see he was alone, everyone else had gone to bed. The room was bathed in ink blue twilight with only a small warm glow emitting from the lit fire place. Now alone Y/N felt safe to move from the window into the warmth of the fire. He lay down on the sofa and almost felt comforted. He began to think of the others, most likely in their bedroom joking and messing around late into the night, he wished he could be with them so badly, as Y/Ns mind carried on imagining his eye lids dropped and he flouted gradually to sleep.

It felt only like seconds later when Y/N was awake, not by choice but by force. From physically being pushed down and the feeling of something on top of him. At first Y/N thought his eyes were still closed but as his sense heightened he realised something had been thrusted over his head, concealing him in darkness. The material tightened around his neck and subsequently pressed against his face. His breath hitched from the pressure but the fabric's breathability allowed Y/N to realise a pillow case had been thrown and tied around his head. Fuck. Several hands were pushing him face down into the floor with one large pair quickly tying his wrists together with rope. All snickering as they went. "So you think you can just run off and tell on us without any consequences?" cooed the revolting voice of Luscious, even under the pillow case Y/N rolled his eyes as he struggled. "Fortunately for you my father taught me how to properly dispose of rats" Luscious spat out the last word and Y/N was roughly lifted up onto his legs still fighting, "You simply throw them into a bag and then you. flush. them. out".

"Luscious you petty, pathetic, parasitic .." with each word Y/Ns voice grow with angry though alas didn't last for long. The distinct sound of a belt buckle could be heard and then clumsily one of Y/N captures forced the thick belt into Y/Ns mouth, between his teeth. This made the fabric push uncomfortable against Y/N's nose and he groaned with pain as the belt buckle was fixed in place behind his head. "That's enough squeaking rat! Time to put you down for good." The group began to drag Y/N out of the dorm room and into the hallway. Feeling the situation becoming more sinister with every moment Y/N continued to thrash against his restraints and attempt to cry out, only weak muffled whines came out of his gagged mouth. After turning a corner everyone's footsteps suddenly began to echo on tiles, signalling to Y/N they had entered one of the communal bathrooms. There was already the sound of running water. FUCK.

Y/N was starting to panic as he was violently pushed down onto his knees and his stomach smacked into what he knew as the rim of the communal bathtub. "I am so sick of you vermin" Luscious hissed and as others held Y/N's limbs down Luscious spindly fingers gripper the back of the pillow case and shoved it down into the water. Instantly Y/N tried to free himself and fear took over his whole body, Luscious lifted up Y/N's head out of the water, the wet cloth stuck to his face and effectively continued to cut off his breathing. Spluttering gasps were barely audible from Y/N. Repeatedly Luscious dunk Y/N's head into the cold water over and over and over, Y/N could no longer tell what was drool, snot, water or tears, he was getting weaker every second which terrified him. His head began to throb along with his vision going dark. Oh fuck. FUCK. Is this it?

Under the water all sound was muffled and hard to follow. So Y/N jolted when he heard and more strongly felt a large blast which was followed by a rumble through the floor. More blasts followed accompanied by fast paced footsteps, Y/N wanted to continue to listen but his eyes fully closed and he started to sink. Seconds later he was sharply pulled out of the water, landing on the wet floor. His heart pounded in his ears as hands frantically untied the belt and removing the case from his head, Y/N's eyes couldn't focus, everything around him was a blur. There were vague figures darting around the room shooting flashes of light at one another. At this moment Y/N's lungs aggressively began to function again causing him to arch his back and wheeze, trying to catch his breath. His chest were in agony but he couldn't stop gasping. "Y/N. Y/N! come on stay with me. Breath!" these words slowly became more clear, as if they were a radio broadcast being tuned to the right frequency for Y/N. He looked up and his spinning eyes managed to pick out Remus, cradling him, rocking back and forth as a result of his own panicked state. Y/N couldn't speak as he still struggled to get a steady rhythm with his breathing, coughing up water sporadically.

James and Sirius ran up to them clutching their wands. "We've chased them off. How's he doing?" James asked, "Not good." Remus said whipping Y/N damp hair off his face, "We need to take him tonight!" Remus commanded. "But it's not ready yet" Sirius chimed in, kneeling down to help Y/N sit up. "Pads! Those bastards nearly killed him! We have to take him!" Remus spoke directly and Y/N could feel his grip tighten slightly on his side. Both Sirius and Remus had to hold onto Y/N and guide him through the hallway and up the stairs as James illuminated the way up. "How .. How did you know where I was" whispered Y/N still half in a daze state. "We have a map that shows us everyone in the castle at all times. Remus saw the others taking you to the bathroom on it and we knew that wasn't a good sign". Weakly Y/N turned to look at Remus but the taller boy was focused on guiding Y/Ns footsteps up the stairs. Nearing the Entrance of the Griffindor dorm door James turned around and pulled out an oddly shimmering cape, "We are going to sneak you in Y/N. Put this on and no one will see you", passing the cape to Remus he carefully draped it over himself and Y/N. Remus was holding Y/N carefully around the waist and gently pressed him into his side, he felt warm. All four of them snuck through the rooms of sleeping students and up the stairs to their own room. It was a cramped top floor room with a small furnace in the middle and three large single beds with wooden frames and red privacy curtains hanging from them. Between each bed was a window that looked out into the grand landscape around the castle.

As Y/N perceptive mind began to reboot he soon was able to tell which bed belonged to which boy based on the clutter on and surrounding it. James's had his broom and quidditch gear placed proudly next to his bed, everything else from books to empty beer cans to boxers were flung in disarray. Sirius' bed had additional embroidered blankets thrown around and shirts, trousers, jewellery and boots spilling out of every other space. To the far left was Remus' bed, compared to his fellow roommates his belongings were arranged neater however the shear volume of books surrounding his bed made it look like a fort. "We have something to show you!" James said excitedly jumping onto his bed and using the base of his broom he pushed up a large wooden board from the ceiling, creating a gap. From behind the door Sirius pulled out a ladder and helped Y/N slowly climb up it.

At first it was too dark to see but after James pulled Y/N up he created a light source with his wand and revealed the wooden structure of the tower's roof. Low wooden beams hung from the top and a circular window was fixed in-between the roof titles, looking out into the vast lake. It was a small space and only just about fit James, Y/N and Sirius who was bringing up some blankets and pillows. "We had planned to set this up properly before telling you about it but look, we can make you a bed here and there you can put all your things". Y/N had no words. "We know it's not much" James said earnestly "but I bet it's going to be way nicer than being stuck in the basement with all those creeps. And it means we get to hang out together way more!". Y/N kept looking around the space in disbelief "I .. I don't know what to say .. thank you!", he was trying hard to fight back crying in front of his friends. "Thank Remus" explained Sirius "This was all his idea!" looking back to the entrance Y/N could see Remus top half of his face looking up through the hole, he had been observing Y/N's reaction. "Thank you Remus" in this moment Y/N felt so pleased for believing Remus when he said things would get solved and Remus smiled back at Y/N happy he was able to keep his promise. "Come on now" James yawned "This has been enough bloody chaos for everyone, let's get some sleep." and the three Gryffindor's left Y/N to get settled. As he curled up into the pile of blankets Y/N could hear the sound of floorboards and bedsprings as the other boys settled into bed. Being this close to them felt so reassuring, his heart rate was still slowly going back to normal and as it did he couldn't stop smiling while he gradually fell asleep.

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avelera · 11 months

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26 and 29 for the writer asks?

26. Is there something you’ve written that you would never want your family to see?

Oh jfc, yes, of course. Anything related to kink, specifically.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

Honestly, there are so many scenes that got cut from "Giving Sanctuary" including Ch. 21 from Dream's POV, that I've considered doing a side fic in the series just to collect all such scenes along with the behind-the-scenes meta for the fic for easy reading by future readers.

That said, there was one section I wrote that just... never really found a home in later drafts, whereas some I wrote might still end up being fodder for the sequel, this bit sadly just never really fit with the pacing for the final chapters.

Basically, it's an extension of the praise kink bit, in which Hob asks for Dream to go into a bit more detail about what he finds attractive about Hob, since after a hellish 80 years, Hob is still sort of struggling to understand what he brings to this relationship that Dream wants. Dream obliges and waxes poetic about Hob's physical virtues in a way I think is very pretty but I vacillated on whether it was in character for him to speak at such length and the tone was very... epic and it was sort of hard to come back from when I wanted quicker, comfier and more domestic banter to close out the story rather than grand declamations. Still, I'm proud of some of it, so here ya go!

---

In truth, it wasn't just this past month that left Hob feeling undesirable. He hadn’t felt like much to look at these past eighty years.

He knew it was mostly in his mind. He knew his body did not change and he’d looked far worse tramping through the muck on campaign while still a mortal man, his hair long and beard as thick as it was now, for much the same reason of a lack of ready baths or interest in keeping up appearances, and still had no trouble finding an eager farmer’s son or daughter to bed down with for the night. He knew, in his mind, that he was well set-up for a man, even handsome.

But eighty years of neglecting himself, only half of that through lack of options? Those added up.

Eighty years of loss, sixty of desperation growing steadily into starvation, into filth that he could never seem to be free of…. Even when he was picked by that customer at the brothel, it had hardly been for his looks that night, slovenly as his appearance had been, so much as for being a willing mouth, for the obvious fact he was desperate enough to accept such coin and not cause a fuss with the law. No sweet words then. Most of his customers were more interested in keeping the price low if they spoke at all, telling him he was nothing much, nothing more than available, at hand, and desperate enough to be bought. Hob had his pride but there were days, nights, each equally dark in his memory where all of that was only words. Once, he had been proud, once he had been fair, once he’d not been filthy. It was hard to have pride as anything more than a reflex after such harsh years.

So, aye, he was a little selfish right now. He saw the hunger in Dream’s eyes, unmistakable now that it was set loose, and he wanted to preen beneath that focused attention. But just as much, and far more pathetically, he wished to hear Dream tell him he was fair. To put words to those looks on Naxos that Hob could finally see for what they were.

“Please?” Hob said, faintly, that lingering coward’s instinct to speak so softly that he might take any words back, to pretend they’d never happened if he went too far. If he gave away too much of his own fallen state, so far from the proud soldier that Dream first met three hundred years before. “I’m happy to return the favor. Gladly I would speak of how the sunset burnished your hair with bronze, made it shine more beautiful and precious than fine silk. How I have longed to kiss the curve of your jaw, which puts the statues of the ancients to shame. I could write poetry, if perhaps not well, to the sight of your bare feet as you walked in the sand, or the feeling of your hand in mine when you walked beside me, more beautiful than one of God’s angels, and the way your skin seems to glow as if you were carved from the moon’s light. Actually, you’ll probably have to ask me to stop if you don’t want to hear it. But, I’m…trying to be honest. With you. Now that we’re doing that, and the fact is… yeah, it’s been a while. A long while, actually. And I’ve… missed it, maybe? So, crazy as it must sound, I know, for one so handsome as the man before you to say, I could use a bit of… umm. That.”

“That,” Dream echoed softly but before Hob could stutter an explanation of that, of his silly need for—for reassurance, a bit more lover’s banter, perhaps some light fussing over him, just to quiet the nervous, ragged-edged part of him that still wanted to lash out at any touch that wasn’t Dream’s, and that still could not fully believe at times that Dream would ever want to touch him at all, no matter how much he’d imagined it over the years, only to then scoff at his own hubris. But now, Dream leaned forward and silenced those voices all at once by smoothing a hand up Hob’s shoulder, over his throat to cup his bearded jaw and lean down, kissing him sweet and certain. “You say that I am the one who asks for too little and yet, all you request of me is that I speak of your beauty aloud, when I have thought of little else of late?”

Hob swallowed, his mouth already dry, and nodded. Dream’s smile curled up at the corners, indulgent, amused, but no less hungry.

“Very well,” Dream said and leaned in close to whisper in Hob’s ear. “Shall we begin with how you thought yourself insignificant in my eyes, simply because I have known the love of goddesses and queens? I have known greater beings still as lovers, Hob, those with beauty crafted by divine hands for that purpose, and yet there is no other I desire more than you in my bed or beneath my hand, shuddering with the pleasure I wish to grant you.”

Hob’s breath stuttered out in a sharp, punched-out noise and already he could feel heat flooding his face, so swiftly it left him dizzy. “Flatterer,” he chuckled breathlessly. “Prince of Stories, indeed. I suppose that means you do love me in truth, if it’s tricked you into thinking me as fair as all of them.”

“Love paints what we know with fresh colors, aye,” Dream rumbled and nuzzled his nose to Hob’s cheek. “But if there is trickery involved, then you have been bewitched as thoroughly as I. You see me as one who is soft, as one you claim is easy to love. If you would believe me so, then may I not call you fair, Hob? May I not call you beautiful and speak the truth?”

“… Yeah? Go on, then,” Hob said in a choked-off whisper, and could hardly believe his own boldness, to fish for compliments so from his stranger. But Dream, not a stranger at all anymore, but his lover, his beloved, only huffed in amusement at his words, his breath hot on Hob’s skin, and he spoke as one reciting poetry, poetry about Hob, and if this was to be the future between them, Hob wondered deliriously if he’d found the one force strong enough to be the end of him.

“I would place you among the divine in fairness of form without hesitation, my love,” Dream breathed, voice caressing the words my love as if to savor the taste of them, and sent shivers all through Hob at those words. “For yours is a beauty crafted by this life, by this world, by the soul that drives you ever forward and the mind that sees the glory of this existence, and by the great heart that moved you to share that glory with one so lost in darkness.”

Dream traced one hand downward to find Hob’s, to draw it up to pin to the pillow beside his head, their fingers intertwined. And as Dream spoke, he studied Hob’s fingers laced through his, and punctuated his words with kisses to each fingertip. “Your hands have known honest labor, and harshest toil, and they have known war, just as thoroughly as they have known the sweetness of a lover’s touch, and the gentleness of holding your infant child. They are hands that have known purpose, and pain, and that are nevertheless kind with their touch, when by rights kindness could have been robbed from you, long ago, and none would blame you for it.”

At some point, Hob realized he’d begun to tear up, and only felt it when a tear slipped down his cheek. But perhaps Dream had learned the lesson of his tears while they kissed, that they need not always speak of pain, because he did not pause, or offer apology, but only leaned close to kiss the droplets from Hob’s cheek, before he continued.

“I have inspired the greatest sculptors and yet none of their masterpieces move me as deeply as the beauty of your face. No simplistic perfection of ideals could capture the variations, the multitudes within you. So quick to laugh, quick to know, and to see what others do not. There is wisdom in your eyes and cunning in your brow and there is joy, both given and taken, often, and freely shared with all, in your lips. You have drained the marrow of life and with your tongue you speak silver beauty, though you name yourself no poet. And your form… your body, your limbs, softly downed and hewn with ancient toil and upon battlefields where none yet live who know their truth save you, has been the source of my daily longing and my nightly ache. How I have longed to touch you, beloved, and to taste you, the sweat of your brow, the curve of your smile, and heat of your desire. I wish to feel the shiver of your pleasure beneath my hand, more precious than the touch of the divine, and to taste you upon my tongue. Must I beg to touch you now, Hob? Or may I finally know peace for the hunger I have suffered since the night I first dared allow myself to want you?”

“Fucking Christ, yes,” Hob gasped and arched up to capture Dream’s lips, moaning into his mouth. His face was afire and if he wasn’t hard before he was aching now, scrabbling after Dream’s shoulders to drag him down so he could kiss him more soundly, latching on to him. God, if Dream started talking again like that he might lose control on the spot from sheer bliss. “Do whatever you want to me, anything, only do it now, I beg you.”

Dream rumbled with pleasure, like a cat discovering a warm hearth rug, ran his fingertips up Hob’s side and through the dense black fur of his chest, then stretched out over him, following the movement with his eyes as if entranced, until his hands reached Hob’s shoulders, where he smoothed his palms along his skin, eyes heavy-lidded and hungry, and his own arousal evident digging into Hob’s hip.

“You need only ever ask, Hob, and I shall give you all. My heart. My constancy. My love for all of time, if you will have it,” Dream murmured, voice as steady as ever, but there was the faintest blush of color building on his cheeks.

“Yes,” Hob hissed but then the clawing need inside him grew desperate at the thought that Dream might see it only as sweet nothings, as the banter between lovers, and not as it was meant, as a vow inscribed into Hob’s very bones. He cupped Dream’s cheek, drew his gaze so they were looking deep into one another’s eyes and said again, “Yes, Dream. Yes, I will have it, all of it, everything you have to give, I want it. You can’t drown me, love, can’t burn me in any way that matters. I want you as much as I want to live. I know that now, after this month without you. Don’t hold back for my sake.”

Dream shuddered, almost seemed to flinch as if Hob’s words were an arrow that had struck him deep and unexpected. Yet his breath quickened, for all the many times he’d said it was unnecessary. And for all Hob’s urgings, he seemed to hesitate now, as one offered a gift too rich to be believed.

#dreamling #1689 fic #giving sanctuary

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 6 months

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Equal asshole opportunity Vlad

He continues to claim he’s an amazing teacher while allowing his students to do whatever. Kendo smacks those she feels are being rowdy, Monoma is loud and keeps saying wtf stuff as 1A, Tetsutetsu is ignoring the rules to be manly, but Vlad keeps going on about how great of a teacher he is. He won't stop even with evidence showing he's fucked up a lot of the time is given to him. As far as he's concerned everything is fine, no reason to worry.

He's still better then Eraserhead. He has a full class of students and none break bones all the time (nevermind Bakugou in this AU got expelled after the sports festival for attacking an opponent after the match and Mineta was expelled for harassment. Never mind Midoriya is a late bloomer.)

Vlad is just so damn confident he's the best because Aizawa has had issues in the past with the school board while Vlad never has. He's always had full classes graduate to be heroes (nevermind most never move past sidekick or they get in a lot of trouble the first few years because Vlad encourages unhealthy forms of competition and training. Nevermind Aizawa has recently been forced to go to therapy and has slowly changed from the heavily depressed and exhausted man he was after his husband nearly left and he nearly lost his job). His kids better show 1A they're better. They are, and they're going to train like they are even if they fall over.

It comes crashing down in this AU for Vlad when one of his students has enough of the encouragement of the competition and the hellish training, and goes to Nezu to complain. Nezu is surprised and looks into it, having trusted Vlad to do the same ‘medium well job’ as Nezu would term it. He's been trying to entice a friend to work at UA but they're busy and need more bribes.

Nezu puts Vlad on probation as does he strip the class rep title from Kendo and shove Monoma into therapy along with Testutetsu. Later Vlad is fired as Nezu’s friend steps in to take over.

Vlad always wonders why.

#bnha #bnha au #equal opportunity asshole #Vlad is a bad teacher #Don’t care what canon says #letting kendo and Monoma run around #Is fucked

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spacexseven · 2 years

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(4/4) ok rapidfire round cuz i talked about aku and dazai WAAAY too much here are some other guys who work with this

fyodor - this fucker would legit get to the point where he actually fucking tries to kill you, and then a month later you’re just. back in his house. probably tied to a chair while he straddles your lap and pets your hair and coos about how badly he’s yearned for his little golubchik (little dove) since you last parted ways and how glad he was when he heard you were okay and how you guys should totally get married in the eyes of the lord and youre about to have a fucking anuersysm.probably wants to just pretend it Didnt Happen. he’d be very unequipped to deal with Feelings Of Guilt so he assauges it by showering you in affection and gifts and larping as Loving Husband. might tamper with you juuuust a touch so you forget about the whole thing, cuz seeing you flinch and try to get away from him makes his chest all tight and he doesnt Like It so you gotta stop doing it <3

gogol - all my ideas for him are VERY similar to what i already have down for dazai BUT differences are that he doesnt wanna torture you cuz he Dislikes you, he wants to torture you cuz he wants to see your Normal Person-ish reaction to incredible suffering! not only are you going through hellish pain, but it’s being inflicted on someone who you thought cared for you? how ghoulish! your reaction would certainly be one for the books! he gets attached to you probably the same way he did to fyodor, through you making real strides towards understanding him, but your Normal Ways would make him less keen on wanting to murder you and more keen on wanting to stay with you forever and make you his little birdie. you managing to piece together that your bf was actually that clown terrorist youve been hearing so much about DID throw a wrench in things a touch, but hes waaay too impressed with you to be bothered by it! youre even more amazing than he thought! wow! his darling birdie! lets stay together forever! why are you running away come back :(

kouyou - shout out to all my WOMAN LIKERS we got kouyou. gonna have to make this one quick i talked about the russians too much. listen. kouyou? she’s already got some baggage about losing the person she loves to the mafia, so falling for her target is EXTREMELY inconvenient for her. she wants to just ignore her feelings and be rid of you already, to save herself the trouble (insert wont say im in love from hercules somewhere in here), but you’re so... bright. much brighter than she ever thought she’d be able to experience, and you care for her so much… she just cant bring herself to let you slip away. please, dont hate her for bringing you into the darkness with her. she wont let it infect you, she promises! anything and everything to protect her precious light.

CONCLUSION: im insane

- 🩹

can you tell i'm super biased towards nikolai :< all asks in this au (basically yandere uses the reader to steal info, falls for them as well) are tagged as #spy au 🐟

cw: yandere characters, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, jealousy, violent threats, murder, forced relationships, kidnapping, imprisonment, manipulation, nikolai has previously pulled out a knife on reader and threatens to kill them.

honestly i don't think fyodor would ever feel guilt for his previous actions. sure, he's roughed you up far too much for the sake of the mission and ruined your life and tortured your friends but all of that was to bring you both together! everything that happened was for the good of your relationship. he always knew you were something special, back when he decided to use you as a way to get information about yokohama's ability users. in fact, he had already decided back then that he would have you join him to fulfill his goal once he gained what he needed to know. you would be useful in a lot of ways, but mostly he wanted you there for a far more selfish reason.

(it did get pretty lonely at the top.)

you thought fyodor was going to kill you after his true intentions were revealed, but waking up to find him holding you like he was cradling the most wonderful thing in the world made you realize you couldn't be more wrong. he had never been to pushy when you met, never asking anything suspicious enough for you to think he was using you. in fact, you only ever met him once every few weeks in a desolate corner when you felt tired from all your work. maybe that false belief that you two were strangers who would never meet at day was what led you to confide in him things you should never have. things you would have gotten killed for revealing if he hadn't already killed your superiors. whatever it was that convinced you to do such a foolish thing, it ruined your life now.

maybe his strange attachment to you wasn't the worst possible outcome. at the very least, there seemed to be hope of you getting out of here alive if his incessant touches and condescending words didn't completely tear you apart.

nikolai is pretty similar to dazai, except he's never been bothered by the job. he likes messing with people, and it helps that you're just to cute! if you're going to freeze every time he places a hand on your back and look all shocked every time he steals a kiss, he's going to actually start liking you, you know? not a temporary arrangement, like in a 'you're-cute-and-i-can-show-you-off' way, but in a 'you're-never-leaving-my-side-and-ill-gladly-kill-everyone-so-you-only-have-me' way. he's that initially annoying and flirty stranger who eventually grows on you, so much so that when he one day puts a hand around you and gleefully announces that he was your boyfriend, despite never having talked to you about this arrangement, you can't find it in you to object. he is sort of cute, with that killer smile. even if he is so reckless you worry for him all the time and has these frightening rounds of jealousy, you supposed it could work out.

he doesn't even need you to finish his task, to be honest. stealing documents and the like was child's play for nikolai. he just wanted an excuse to mess with you while getting paid. oh, but you treating him so genuinely, with so much care...he can't just let anyone else receive that sort of treatment in the unlikely situation he had to break up with you. if he had to kill you after this arrangement, it would be quite a waste, wouldn't it? you were so sweet to him. there were always other ways to make you cry—ways he was sure you'd enjoy almost as much as him. if you didn't...well, you'd just have to learn to like it!

imagine his shock when he comes to visit one day to find you...gone! like you had disappeared from your place overnight. even he hadn't been expecting this turn, after all, the two of you had been getting even closer. was it because he kept insisting on trying some potentially dangerous things in bed? but you'd have talked to him about it first. this was...unlike you. and then he catches sight of the news and realizes someone had leaked out some of his personal history.

oops. he forgot most people weren't comfortable dating a murderer.

too bad you didn't have a choice anymore! he finds you, as expected. with his ability and his understanding of you, it was only a matter of time. thing is, nikolai doesn't really like to threaten you so badly, really. sure, there were those times when he swore he would tear apart anyone who tried to ask you out, and promised to kill everyone you ever dated before him so that he could be the only living person to boast of such an honor. and he did pull out a knife on you a couple times but it was all fun and games! really! this time, not so much.

nikolai had you grabbing onto the edge of his coat while he dangled you over the edge of a skyscraper, having used his ability to bring you here earlier. you were probably too scared to be listening to him, but all he was asking of you was an apology and a promise to never leave him like that again. promise him you'd always be by his side.

he was so worried for you! this was the least you could do to make it up to him.

koyou would be devastated when she realizes what this feeling was. the strange warmth that came from sitting next to you, sharing meals and talking about work, quiet moments together—she was stupid for letting it go this far. and now...now she was in too deep.

if only she had stuck to her goal and only been an acquaintance to you. if only you hadn't shown her such a beautiful sight and the possibility of a warm future together. she couldn't bear losing you, couldn't live knowing she could never hold you as close as she yearned to after this was over.

unless...she took some disastrous action.

she knew you would hate her more than you already did if she brought you into her world. you would hate it there, but she was foolishly hoping her presence would make it a little more bearable. you were so wonderful to her...could you manage to love her just a little more? could you overlook your disgust for her tainted soul and hold her like you did, before the truth came out?

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