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tacticaldiary · 9 months

Note

I love your fics so much 😍😍😍 could you please write a ghost x wife reader where he has a nightmare about losing them

Solace For The Rough Nights

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"I killed you." It's a harsh whisper, almost involuntary, as if his body couldn't bear to keep the poisonous thought in a second longer. "Shot you straight through the head. I didn't-"

"I'm alive. Here. With you. It was just a nightmare, love."

Masterlist

Ghost was running.

Footsteps crunching on dried leaves, he weaves through the trees, shaking off the sounds of harshly barked orders, as crisp and as hold as the cold air around him.

The trees around him are densely packed together, a mixing pot of leaves, roots, and coarsely misplaced footsteps.

He can't remember how he got here, or what op he was on and it sends his normally razor-focused mind into a slight frenzy.

Ghost is a man of action. A plan and a way to execute it was all he needed to bring back a victory in tow, but right now he has neither of those things, hasn't even a bare recollection of ever having those things in the first place.

What was a Ghost without a purpose to haunt?

He stumbles.

It's already an odd situation. Ghost doesn't stumble or hesitate. He's a well-oiled machine, self-sufficient and cut-throat. Missteps are simply not viable with him, especially not something as simple as tripping.

Catching himself on his arm, he swings around, gun already aimed towards the ground, sees a vest-clad figure sprawled over the ground under him.

He fires without thinking. A bullet straight to the head, brain matter splattering the trees and forest, the expanse of his arms. The impact of the bullet jolts the body onto its back and-

Every part of him freezes in pure, undiluted horror.

Because his wife stares up at the sky, eyes unseeing, eerily still. Her hair bloodstained, splayed out onto the ground caught in twigs and branches, face filthy with dirt and crimson that he drew from her.

He's not sure when the trembling starts, only that it begins with his hands and travels up his spine, singeing his soul with a terror that would marr him forever. Circumstances completely forgotten, he drops to his knees in front of her, hands shaking as he calls out her name, pressing his fingers to her neck to find a pulse as if he hadn't just blown her brain out and-and fuck it was still on his arms, his hands, the blood was everywhere and there was no way Ghost had just taken the one thing he wanted to keep in his life-

A strangled sound leaves his lips, not a laugh and not quite a cry. He wants to laugh at the irony.

He's always been so afraid that someone would hurt her at his expense, that someone would take her away, tear her apart from him.

He never thought it'd be him who carried out the deed.

Nothing comes out of his mouth, because nothing can fix this. He gathers her into his arms, shaking silently. He deserves this, deserves to suffer in silence with what he's done.

The release of crying was not one he deserved.

"Fuck, I-...you're okay." His voice breaks, rough and gritty, and desperate. "I didn't-I swear I-..."

Someone's voice sounds behind him but he refuses to look back, letting the screaming in his head, the crescendo of grief consume him. His hands never let up from touching her, pressing her against himself as if his own heartbeat may bring her to life.

How could someone like her face the end when someone as disgustingly tainted and bloodstained as him continued on living?

It wasn't right, but then again, the world never was fair.

He registers he's panicking, knows that he can't quite get a full breath in and that the noise of talking is getting louder but death itself would be the only thing to take him away from her.

"..i..on."

He squeezes his eye shut, rasping out suffocating breaths.

"Simon...Simon!"

His eyes snap open, a strangled gasp tearing out of his throat. It's blindingly dark, and he's...there's hands on him. Steeling himself he sits up hazy and confused, lingering panic making his throat close up.

A click and the room fills with light.

Room. He's in...he's in his room. He's in their room.

"You okay?"

Her voice makes him shiver violently, ignites his frayed nerves. He's almost afraid to look over lest he find her bloody and mangled, because she was, wasn't she? He'd seen it, held her, felt guilt choke him and...

But there weren't any leaves here. No trees, and no blood on his hand (that was the first thing his eyes had snapped down to confirm.)

With a shaky breath, he finally turns his head towards her voice.

Some of the hastily built scaffolding inside him collapses at the sight of her. Alive. Well. Clean.

Worried.

Patient as always, she's waiting for him to get his bearing, not wanting to swarm and overwhelm him.

"Simon?" Her voice is a crack of softness a man like him doesn't deserve. The sheets rustle as she shifts closer. "You were tossing around, mumbling something." She furrows her brows, coming to sit in front of him. "You're all sweaty. Do you feel ill?" The back of her hand presses against his forehead, and the touch snaps something in him.

Breaks apart the harrowing gates of relief, but also smashes the wave of diluted panic he'd been too disorientated to feel.

His hand snaps to her wrist, a gentle and firm hold. Her eyes widen but she doesn't interrupt, lets him press his lips against her pulse point with trembling fingers. "You're all right." He breathes out, half to himself.

"I'm right here." She reassures him immediately. It loosens up his shoulders a little, but he still reaches out to her, pulls her close into a hug so crushingly tight it knocks the breath out of her.

She hugs him tighter, still.

Simon wasn't a hugger, so something must really have shaken him up.

"Hey..." She mumbles against his shoulder.

Simon pulls back, hands travelling up her arms, her shoulders, her neck, to press against her temples. His gaze flickers down to his own arms, then back to her head.

"Talk to me, baby." She says quietly, letting him ground himself. His hands tangle in her loose hair, weaving the strands between his fingers as if he might pick out phantom leaves and twigs. "Why so worked up?"

"I killed you." It's a harsh whisper, almost involuntary, as if his body couldn't bear to keep the poisonous thought in a second longer. "Shot you straight through the head. I didn't-"

"You didn't."

The sharp interrupting startles him enough to still his hands from where they've been mapping out her skin to ensure it was still unmarred.

"You didn't." She repeats. Gently untangling his hand from her hair, she brings it to press against her chest, right over where her heart is. "I'm alive. Here. With you. It was just a nightmare, love." She smiles and Simon feels his heart twist. The way she leans forward to press her lips to his is a kind of gentle he's still getting used to. "You're not getting rid of me any time soon." She whispers against his lips, a warmth that's a welcome reprieve from the shivers that wracked his body moments prior.

They sit there taking in each other's presence until Simon's thoughts slow from a sprint to a run to a walk, until the taste of copper, and the tang of iron fade from his senses.

Until it's just her, just them. In their bed, in their home. Off duty and safe.

When she slides her hands up to his shoulders, pushing him down he goes willingly, lets her straddle him. Never once do his hands leave her, they wrap around her hips to keep her steady.

"Tell me about it?" She asks, hands on his chest. After a moment of thought, Simon shakes his heavy with a long, heavy exhale.

"I'd rather not think about it." He rasps.

"It might help." The gentle shapes she traces on his chest give him something to latch onto. "I don't want you to deal with these nightmares alone." She snakes a hand up to his head, gently tapping his temple. "Don't want you to get stuck here without me. We're a team, right?"

"I suppose we are." He hums. Simon considers changing the subject, letting it go and falling back to sleep, but the need to get these vile thoughts out of him...

So he talks.

For once, he talks.

Simon tells her in halting phrases and clenched fists about what he remembers, how he held the gun, how there was no hesitation pulling the trigger.

His tension is met with hums and soothing circles rubbed onto his skin, keeping him with her even when he unravels the threads of his worst nightmare.

"I remember thinking how I was the one who took your life." He swallows harshly. "How I lost someone else...how it'd have been my fault." She doesn't comment on the fact that his grip on her hips has tightened considerably as he spoke.

"Well you haven't shot me yet, so I think we're safe for now."

Her attempt at a joke is met with a blank glare, but she snickers anyway. "Look Simon, if it'd be anybody I'd have liked it to be you-"

"No."

Her smile falters at the way he pushes up onto his elbows. "No?"

"I wouldn't..." He gathers his thoughts, clenches his jaw briefly. "I'd rather cut my own hands off, love."

"That's a bold claim, but-"

"It's a promise."

The conviction he says it with renders her speechless. His eyes so firm and determined and honest in the meagre light of their nightlamp sparks a warm heat through her, a reminder of how much she loves the man under her, of why she adores him.

He means what he says. It should scare her, someone so willing to go that far, but instead it's a fierce reassurance that her passion is returned. Maybe not in hugs or dopey smiles, but instead in moments like these, with promises that carve their way into their very bones, etching the proof of devotion into permanence.

She tips her head forward until their foreheads are pressed together. "I love you, Simon." She whispers. "So fucking much. I'm not going anywhere, alright. Not without you."

A hand wraps around the back of her neck, tugs her down to crash their lips together, the only affirmation she needs. He pulls her down until they're a tangle of limbs and breaths.

He doesn't need to say it back. Not when his hands burn sparks into her skin, when his arms around her guarantee safety and protection like nobody else can provide.

"You're here." He breathes, like he needs to.

"I'm here." A kiss pressed to the underside of his jaw. "I'm here."

And he finally believes it.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

(16/08/2023)

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leviathan-supersystem · 1 year

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I want to thank you for posting about how insane the effective altruism community is and how Thielian it is like 6 years ago (maybe even further back). I've been on tumblr only sparsely since then but when i heard about how the ftx billionaires were part of this thing i thought of your posts and how right they turned out to be. I bet a lot of people remember this. So much seems to have metastasized about the things you were warning about (what feels like) very early on. Thank you for braving some deeply annoying reactionary interlocutors back then and being a voice of reason

thank you, it means a lot that you say that, i do consider my investigation into lesswrong and related to be some of the best work i've ever done, and i do think that if i hadn't been there sounding the alarm on that, a lot more people on tumblr could have gotten roped into that whole scam. like i really can imagine that whole thing getting a lot uglier if i hadn't warned people.

and like when that whole saga first started, i had no idea things were going to get so wildly out of control, like the way that it all started was that me and my mutuals were getting harassed by a bunch of people with "rationalist" in their bio, and i was like "okay who the hell are these people and where are they coming from" and i honestly didn't expect there to be anything substantial. i thought the answer would just be "they came from reddit" and that's it. so i was completely blindsided when i started digging and found out all this absolutely buck-wild shit about AI cults and Thiel funding. needless to say i found a lot more dirt on them than i was anticipating.

i'm about to go into tinfoil hat territory for a minute here, but i surmise that there is a particular psy-op strategy that involves the creation of two ostensibly opposed ideological factions which in truth serve the same broader ideological goals, positioning the "conflict" between them in such a way that people are compelled to take sides, and then leading the people on either side of that "conflict" into basically the same ideological trap. so for example, in the 80's there were a bunch of televised debates between christian figures and the church of satan, and it was this whole big broader culture war thing, presented in such a way that people would be compelled to take one side or the other, but in the end both sides of that debate were pushing a right-wing ideology which was identical on the most important points (anti-egalitarian/anti-socialist/anti-democratic. i'll be getting more into detail on that in an answer to another ask, i'm cleaning out my inbox right now).

similarly, with the recent upsurge in christian populist conspiracy theorism on tumblr these days, i can't help but imagine how much worse the scenario would be if the lesswrongers had succeeded in really taking root on tumblr and harassing the communists off the site, as they were clearly trying to. like i can imagine instead of the debate on tumblr being between "bill gates is bad because he's an evil wizard trying to give us the mark of the beast" vs. "no, bill gates is bad because he exploits his workers, poisons the earth, and is hoarding land and resources, etc" we had a scenario where the lesswrongers had supplanted the communists and the debate was between "bill gates is bad because he's an evil wizard trying to give us the mark of the beast" vs. "no, bill gates is good :)." honestly too horrible to contemplate.

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spiritualgms506 · 2 years

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gyusfavlibra · 3 years

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THIS IS MY WORK! PLEASE DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ON OTHER SITES/APPS!!!!

Warnings: +18, smut, fingering, hand job, sex in bathroom, language, jealousy, fighting, arguing.

Y/n and Sarah sat quietly on Kie's bed as they waited for Kiara to stop degrading the lavender dress she wore while standing in her large mirror. Mrs. Carrera coming through the door to make sure the girls were all dressed. "This is disgusting."

"I know it's just horrible."

"I'm asking you guys to just relax and go to a fun party."

"I look like a bourgeoisie pig."

"I think you look beautiful," y/n said while shrugging at Kie. She just gave a smile back to her, still hating the look no matter what compliments were given.

"Will you please not worry about socioeconomic injustice for one night?"

"Mom, people not three miles from her have no power, no running water, and we're going to Midsummers."

"That's so tone deaf."

"Y/n," the mother scolded at her niece. "Do you know how hard we had to work to get into the Island club?"

"Yeah, mom. How could I forget? You had to grovel for, like, ten years--"

"Twelve years, and we also had to cough up a huge chunk of dough-"

"To keep up with the Joneses-"

"No, so you had the same experiences that I had as a child."

"But weren't parents as teens out, like partying, getting drunk, making out in the backseats of their cars at drive in movies," the cousin listed while putting her things in its bag. "Getting pregnant."

"That doesn't sound fun," Sarah added.

"Do you girls even know what the Island club is?"

"A factory farm."

"For debutantes," Y/n raised her eyebrows.

"It's a nice place, with nice people where you can do fun stuff."

"With out-of-touch rich people, while the island sinks slowly into the ocean."

"Water filling the poor's destructive lungs while the wealthy ones get away on million dollar boats."

Sarah sat quietly laughing on the comfy blanketed mattress. Mr. Cerrera sighed, saying one last thing before walking out. "Okay, I want you to put on your party face, girls, if you want to live."

"Did your mom just threaten to kill us?"

"Maybe. I think so," she nods as she turned around to the duo, fixing the flower crown that sat on her cousin's head. "You nervous to see Rafe."

"Why did you have to bring that up?"

"I was curious. I know it's only been two days, but-"

"Hey, he broke up with me. So if he wants to talk, that's in his duty. Not mine. I did nothing wrong."

Sarah got off the bed, swinging on it's pole. "Except flirt with JJ, or so he says."

"I was not...flirting with JJ. He has a crush on Kiara. I'd never."

"But Rafe doesn't know that."

°°°°

*flashback*

"What if she doesn't like it?"

"She'll love it. She's hippie."

Y/n and JJ sat on John B's porch, smoking a blunt. The girl was trying to help him do something nice for Kiara so JJ could ask her out without feeling weird. He's liked her for the longest and he was finally ready to tell her how she feels.

"Alright, now practice what you're gonna say."

Just as Y/n finished saying the statement, her own boyfriend, Rafe Cameron showed up. Standing behind them listening in.

"Okay, uh, hey I have to tell you something...uh important," the blonde began speaking, using hand gestures because of his nerves. "I really really like you. Like not like friends like, but I have feelings, uhm, strong feelings for you. Because you're like super hot, andnyou're like a really cool chick. So I was wondering if maybe you'd wanna...go out with me."

"Yes, t-"

"What the hell!"

The manly unknown voice shocked them both, their figures jumping at the sound because they thought they were alone.

"Rafe, what're you doing here?"

Y/n asked confusedly as she stood from the steps. The Kook just scoffed and walked back out. Ignoring her question. She shared a glance with JJ before going to follow after him.

"Hey! Where you going? What's wrong?"

"A pogue!? Y/n, seriously?!"

"What're you talking about?"

"You're cheating on me with a pogue?" He shouted. Y/n scrunched her eyebrows, looking at the unnecessary upset individual.

"What do you mean cheating? I'm not cheating on you. We were just talking."

"Bullshit. That's bullshit! I heard it all."

"Rafe, it's not like that. Jj was just-"

"I should've known better. I should've known," he fumed. His right foot swung to kick the dirt near his truck that he was so very close to getting into.

"Known what?"

"I should've never trusted a pogue. I knew something like this was gonna happen. You were just gonna throw me away like Sarah did, Topper. Right? Huh?"

"You sound ridiculous. I was never throwing you away. I was helping him out."

"Yeah, while you're at it. Might as well help sleep with him too."

Y/n scoffed, taking a step back from the angered boy who's brain had just functioned what he said. Part of him regretted it very much. But the other part thought you deserved it because of his cheating accusation.

He opened his vehicle door. Stepping one foot inside. "We're done."

The girl just laughed with held tears reaching for the openess. She turned around to head back inside as Rafe just drove off.

°°°°

"Hey, no tearing up today. Go to this stupid thing and show him that his little cheating accusation act didn't hurt you at all. You're stronger than that."

"Thanks, Kie."

The girls finished up their last minute touches. That includes sweeping their dresses with roller for no hair, any makeup redos, or hair finishes. The ride to the country club was quiet. Well, y/n was quiet.

This would be her first time seeing Rafe since their break up a three days ago. They've been doing everything in their mighty to avoid each other. And it definitely worked. But like her friend told her, she wasn't gonna get worked up. Letting Rafe see her weak was like telling him he was right about everything. But he wasn't.

"Jesus, Kook land."

"I forgot how packed this thing is every year."

"Well, let's go. I gotta walk out with my family."

The Cameron family walked out with their heads high and the Kook crowd cheered for each one. Y/n kept her eyes gazed to Kiara since they were in the middle of a conversation. Not caring if that family came in or not. That excludes Sarah.

Rafe watched from his spot by his dad, as they exited to outside. Breath hitched when he saw Y/n and her dress. It was a dark toned red, had tulle, and a revealing chest opening.

A red flower crown on her head, complimenting her beautiful down hair. She looked amazing and hot to Rafe. He had to clear his throat before excusing himself.

"Hey," the red dresses girl heard from beside her as a hand landed on her lower back. She removed it before her eyes retracted to theirs. Kie just pursed her lips before leaving to hangout with Sarah. Y/n internally screaming that she left her there.

"What do you want?"

"Uh, you look nice."

"Okay. Thanks. You don't too. What do you want?"

"Nothing. Just saying hi."

"Bye."

"Wait, wait, wait. Why are you mad at me? Shouldn't I be the mad one here?"

"Why?"

"Because of what you did," he said with furrowed eyebrows. Y/n shrugged.

"I didn't do anything."

"Do- do you not remember what happened on the cut three days ago? The fight."

"You slut shaming me and accusing me of cheating with JJ. That? Yeah, I remember that."

"Accused? I heard you."

"Heard what exactly?"

"JJ, was telling you he liked you and thought you were a cool hippie chick, which you are not. You're not hippie. And then he asked you out and you said yes. As soon as I walked in."

Y/n stared at him blankly. Before bursting out laughing. A few guests behind them staring with a look that showed they weren't used to loud talkers or laugher. "Oh my god. You thought? Jesus that's absolutely hilarious."

"What is?"

"That you think- you think that JJ was confessing feelings to me. Whew that's rich."

"I heard it, Y/n."

"He wasn't confessing anything to me you shit head. He was practicing for when he asked out Kiara."

Rafe was confused. Majorly. Inside and out. "But she-"

"He likes Kiara. And she's my cousin. You think I'd really hurt anyone like that? How low of me do you think? Have fun at this party."

Y/n walked off to go look for her disappeared friends. Not wanting to spend another second in a spot with someone who was so rude over something he knew nothing about. Just assumed. Never asked.

As she walked down the corridors of the porch that many people stood on drinking, a hand grabbed her shoulder, turning her around. Her eyes fixated on the blonde in a black tux and a bow tie.

"Holy shit, JJ. You scared me. What're you doing here?" She asked as she hugged him.

"Well, Sarah somehow convinced her dad to let me in tonight to hangout with Kie."

"Have you seen her?"

"I was just looking for her myself. C'mon. She's probably inside."

She grabbed his hand. Pulling him inside. They found Kie just minutes later with Pope. He was working the grill with his dad. Sarah was getting raided by Topper about their own stupid shit. Y/n decided to go get herself a drink and maybe find someone to dance with.

The straw rested on her lips as she stood against the porch railing. Gazing over all the people who say around laughing, probably bragging about their money, summer vacations, their older kids getting into a good college. Typical kook things.

Her eyes focused on a specific couple talking off to the side. Her eyes burning a whole in the back of Rafe's head as he tried to flirt up a storm with some Kook she didn't know whatsoever.

Her body was fuming. Was Rafe really gonna sit in front of her and flirt with a whole other girl that isn't her. Just a few days after their breakup. It's like he's trying to play victim. And she's had it.

"Hey, Sancho. Lassie."

The brunette Rafe was talking up a storm to laughed. "I'm sorry who are you?"

"Oh, you gonna introduce me to your side piece here?"

"Would you stop? We're just talking."

"Talking? Yeah, okay," Y/n laughed. The girl just looked at her dazed. "Hi, I'm his girlfriend. Y/n. And you, yeah you're excused."

Rafe was truly enjoying this scene. Internally rooting for Y/n. He wasn't gonna object to that fact that she called herself his girlfriend. Because now that he knew the truth, it changed his perspective.

"Who do you think you are?"

"I already told you. Wh- can you not hear correctly?"

"He said he was single so, why-"

"He lied. So, you can go away now- Rafe. Let's go. We need to talk."

"What're you his mother now?" The rando questioned. Y/n turned to her and gripped her face.

"If you wanna keep these teeth, then I suggest you stop talking. Go find somebody else's boyfriend to mack on."

She dragged Rafe by his hand into the upstairs private bathroom. Locking the door behind her. "What're you doing?"

"Just having a friendly conversation. There a problem?"

"You were flirting, Rafe. That was flirting," she paced. Hand against her for head.

"Like you're any better. You lied to me."

"I've never lied about anything."

"You said JJ liked Kiara."

"Yeah. He does."

"Then why is he holding your hand, hugging you, and leaving inside with you instead of the girl he supposedly likes," Rafe argued. Gripping onto the large counter.

"Rafe, I grabbed his hand and brought him inside to find Kiara. And I hugged him because I was happy for my friend. God, Rafe how many times do I have to tell you that I am not cheating on you."

"It's kind of hard to believe that shit when I keep seeing things with my own eyes."

"Then stop assuming and come ask me. Jesus, do you not trust me or something. Because I trust you. Anytime I hear that you're at a party doing lines with hot blonde's next to you, I brush it off because I know you'd never. Why can't you just do that for me."

Rafe stood from his seat. Pinching the bridge of nose. The guilty conscience grazed through his mind as he listened to her words. He had issues with trust and with others, but he knew it wasn't a reason to take it out on the only person who's loved him for him.

"I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry. You're right. I should trust you. Just like you trust me. I'll work on it. I promise."

"Don't promise me that. Just show me that you love me just as much."

The words clicked. He did love her. And he cared about her. More than anyone in this world. And he wanted to show her. In the most physical way possible.

"C'mere."

"Why?"

"Just c'mere," he repeated as he grabbed her by her waist, pulling her closer to him. She stumbled, but Rafe's grip kept her in place. He moved his face closer to hers, lips almost touching as they grazed against each other.

He used the hand placed on her waist to grip the fabric of her dress. Pulling it upwards. Her breath hitched as he hand snaked under the red tulle and right onto her now soaking core. His pointy finger swept across the waistband of her panties.

Y/n wasn't expecting this as the outcome from their miniature argument but she wasn't complaining. And neither was Rafe.

He pushed her underwear down as much as he could from their position, before going back to her walls and making circular motions. Rafe finally closer the space, kissing her lips practically roughly as he continued rubbing her.

He kept a firm hand on her waist to make sure she had a gripping support if he legs gave out, which they indeed will. The motions stopped as Y/n pulled her lips away from his. Rafe stared at her daring eyes, questioning if she wanted his to continue.

"Put them inside me," she whispered. The Cameron smirked before obliging to her demand. He stuck to fingers into her wet cunt. A soft moan escaped her lips as he did so. Pumping them in and out of her. Y/n rubbed her hand against the erection in his dress pants.

"You like that, yeah?"

She nodded as the locked her lips. Not being able to speak because knowing if she did, she let out a loud moan and even at this club would hear.

She unbuckled his pants, putting her handninside to grip his penis and pump it as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. The hand he held to her waist was now gripped on her neck, gently. Y/n clenched around his fingers. Feeling her high come close. "Dont stop."

Rafe began pumping faster just as Y/n did so. The teens were so horny that they were both already reaching their extent. Rafe's shaft twitched in her hand. "I'm cumming."

"Do it for me."

That's all it took for Y/n to finish. And Rafe too. His liquids filling her hands as they both let out moans due to their intense actions. In one swift motion, Rafe snaked a hand around Y/n's waist turning then so she was against the counter. Her pulled the straps of her dress of her shoulders, leaving kisses as he did so before connecting his lips to hers.

Her pulled his tuxedo jacket off him. Snapping the bowtie off as well. Y/n moaned at the tluchnof his hands on her breast. Massaging them in his hands over the fabric of her strapless bra.

Y/n unbuttoned the spots on his shirt before pulling it off his shoulders and onto the floor. Rafe stop his gripping motions and pulled down his pants and boxers. He sat her up on the counter. Her bare ass connecting to the coldness of the marble designed setting.

Rafe rubbed his tip against her fold once or twice before pushing himself into her. Not giving a warning, but Y/n loved the suddeness. Y/n let a moan into his next as he began thrusting his hips. The girl gripping her black painted nails into his back.

Rafe's eyes rolled to the back of his head. Enjoying the feelings of Y/n's cunt wrapped around him.

"You like that?"

"Yes, god yes."

Y/n sat up, wrapping her arms around his neck. Each moan and huff she exposed in his earn make his whole body shiver. Rafe let out a grunt before answering. She clenched her walls around his dick. The dirty blonde groaned slamming into her body. "Do it again."

She did so. Clenching around around the boy as he slammed into her again. This time, hitting the spot that made her whole body go insane. "Tell me I'm yours."

"You're mine."

A moan escaped her lips after he said what she had wanted. Her hand smacked down onto the edge of the sinks counter. Grilling onto it for dear life. "Tell me it again."

The feeling of her finishing was fastly approaching. As well as for Rafe. The moans she let out made his go over the edge as he fucked her hard. "Tell me, Rafe."

"You're fucking mine, ah-"

Each of them let out a loud moan as they finished. Covering each others mouths. There shouldn't be anyone upstairs but for precautions they covered either way.

Rafe's head fell forward onto her chest. Taking large breaths as y/n did too. "Shit, y/n."

The Cameron pulled out of her. Helping her get redressed and cleaned just after he did himself.

"You're still on the pill right?" He asked as he zipped his pants.

"Yeah. It's fine," she smiled up at his 6'4 figure. Rafe reached down to kiss her passionately.

"I love you, Y/n."

"I love you, too."

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buttonhouseparty · 3 years

Note

For the Ghosts Asks Game! 1, 8, 13, 18, 27, 41 & 48 <3

Thank you so much for asking, and for asking so many as well! I had fun thinking about these.

💖 1. Who is your favourite ghost? Oh, far and away, it’s wholehearted unconditional love for the Captain from me. He just really speaks to me! as Thomas would say. The non-Captain ghost I like best is Robin. He’s a total wildcard: fun-loving, naughty, but also wise. You never know what he’ll say or do next. He would probably be an absolute nightmare to live with.

🐈 8. Which ghost do you think you'd get along with the best? Kitty for sure. Everyone I’ve ever been good friends with irl has been an irrepressible extrovert like Kitty. I’m so reserved that I need someone who’ll reach out and meet me more than halfway. Kitty would grind down my defences with her relentless friendliness and chitchat about balls and eligible men. I would be the grumpy one who’s soft for her sunshine one.

💑 13. Favourite ship and why? Cap/anyone, lol. I just want to read about the Captain. I’m not really attached to any ship in Ghosts! I’m just grateful for any fic/art that people put out there. Actually I really enjoy it when it’s a pairing I’m slightly less into and yet the writing is so insightful that I end up rooting for them and cheering them on anyway. Like okay! You have convinced me! Now smoosh them together and have done with it

📖 18. What is your favourite Ghosts fanfiction? Well obviously this is my opportunity to compliment you on your fics, dear asker, which are genuine masterpieces of the E-rated genre *bows* I mean there are so many talented writers in this fandom… If I’m being asked to highlight just one story, I would recommend this incredible oneshot by @wreathedwith – blood, dirt & sucked sugar stick (x) It’s achingly poignant, knowing, wryly funny and low-key smutty. Perfectly-judged characterisation of the Captain in all his tortured, conflicted repression. Short but sweet.

🌕 27. Favourite episode? I’m going to go with Moonah Ston. A formal dinner party getting completely buggered up is such a classic comedy trope. Geoff McGivern and Sophie Thompson are class acts. So many iconic moments in this too: the ghosts watching Friends, happy Cap coaching Mike to shoot (pom-pom), Pat with the dog, ‘all the water’s turned to clouds!’, tons of great Robin moments including his little song. It doesn’t have all the emotional depth of other episodes but for a tightly-written sitcom ep it’s hard to beat.

👨🏻 41. Let's settle this once and for all. Who's the real leader, the Captain or Pat? Both. Pat day-to-day but the Captain in a crisis. Whether either of them are good at leading is a different question entirely.

Okay, you also asked me 48 but I have lots of thoughts and this post is already long, so I’ll reply to that separately :)

OP for this Ghosts Ask Game is here: x

#thank you for sending me an ask!#bbc ghosts #ask games #I don’t think I ever got round to posting 48 #because I was too busy overthinking it

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zero-rider · 4 years

Text

A grim truth

This wasn't supposed to happen

His original idea was to face Salem as much as he could so his friends could leave Atlas before it fell in Mantle, which it was okay with him, since all the civilians were evacuated from both Atlas and Mantle and were being staying in many Atlas ships by the order of the new general of Atlas; Winter Schnee, they were also being protected by what remains of the Ace-ops and Penny with her still newly winter maiden powers. He also planned to fall along with Atlas and Salem if he didn't make it, but if his Aura and semblance could take the fall, then he would be more than fine in his book, it also would be more than fine if she just struggle to get out of the debris of Atlas while they escape,

But in just some minutes, his plan failed. His Aura could only took 5 hits form her magic, 4 if you didn't count an ice stalactite that was tanked by his semblance and reduced his Aura to 1%. Atlas was falling faster than he though and he just got a call from Ruby that everyone of his friends were searching for him, so the idea of them leaving Atlas in one piece was a colossal no right now. There was also the factor that three Seers were keeping him in the ground with his face on the dirt and in front of the queen of the Grimm, he was still panting and searching for an opportunity to escape from the Seers tight hold

"don't fight it, they will tighten their hold on you the more you fight" Salem smiled while holding and inspecting Jaune's sword, the same shining and sharp metal that cut her head four minutes ago "an excellent blade for an incompetent huntsmen, looks like Ozma has been lowering his standards about his soldiers"

"funny you say that, because i remember this incompetent huntsmen cutting your head minutes ago. With that said, i think i'm a pretty good huntsman" smugly replied the blond before he was kicked in the face by the pale woman

"you bragging about that little mistake? oh my, Ozma really has really lower his standards. I'll admit, you lasted longer than the previous Ozma pawn who faced me, i'll give you that" she chuckle, then she walked slowly to the almost broken shield from Jaune, just a short distance away from him

"why, thank you. i would have last longer, but i wasn't prepared to face a magical old hag" the blond said, before he was slapped by one of the seers and caused a little cut on his right cheek

"do you have a death wish or something?" she shook her head in disapproval, holding the faced-downd shield "youngsters these days. anyway, i know from two certain agent of mine, that you are quite close to that silver-eyes spawn, so i believe that i can ask a certain question. how do you activate the Relic of Knowledge"

"you have to say immas ucke-uuughh!" the seers tighten their hold on Jaune and he was lifted to the same level as Salem's face, whose red and black eyes were looking straight at him

"wrong answer, i will say it one more time and slowly so you could understand. How. do. you. activate. the Relic. of Knowledge" Salem took the shield and inspectione it, it surprised her the weight a little, but the Arc family emblem was what took her attention. It was like certain emblem in that tower she used to live, but inverted, before she was what it was now. Sadly for her, her blond prisoner still had enough energy to insult her again and suffer the consequences, and took her away from her memories momentarily

"fine, i think it was ligma-AAAAAAAHHHHH!!" this time he was meet with a little (in her words) thunder from her. She didn't even looked at him when she fire it, she just looked again to his shield and with some hand moves, a diamond was put in his shield, in the middle of the inverted emblem

Something hit her in that moment, it was a still existing pain in her chest that was later replaced with joy for a few moments, then sadness took the joy's place. If what she thought was true, then her daughters (or at least one) could have lived after that explosion of magic that take them from her. Many thoughts came to her mind about what could had happened so one or all her daughters could have survived in that moment, many were about Ozma hiding their daughters from her. Just a few were about none of them knowing that their children were alive, and they left them before checking if they were alive. But that could take her mind another time, right now it was about her descendant and how she was torturing him

She droped the shield, and the Seers released a confused jaune, who touched his jaw to feel any other damage apart from the kick from her and kneeled to recover from the still fresh thunder he received. Salem, on her part, was having an internal struggle. She was just looking at him, the way his eyes and body were showing fear for the first time, the way he was trying to comprehend what was happening and why Salem didn't used a Grimm to turn him in nothing more than just a pile of flesh, and how he was screaming mentally at himself to run. It got worse when she began to cry

"my family... i'm trying to kill my family again... just like thousands of years ago" tears leaked from her eyes, just as her bloody red eyes looked deep at his sapphire blue ones. Nostalgia came, it was like watching at her youngest daughter again, only turned into a boy, but the resemblance was evident

"your... family? what. what are you talking about?" his question was not answered, for something worse than a truth was now to take place

"it can't be... Ozma, he... Ozma!" hell broke loose, she released all kind of spells destroying constructions and even creating more craters in the destroyed streets of Atlas "HOW DARE YOU USE OUR CHILDREN AGAINST ME, OZMA?!!" what she did was like a light spectacle. Fire, thunder, ice, earth, wind and any other elements where shooted to all directions from her hands, mouth and eyes, she didn't even spare one of her Seers, but strangely, not a single hair was touched from him, but that didn't took the possibility of a stray attack coming his way, after all, he didn't had Aura and an attack with that kind of magnitude would kill him immediately

After what it felt like an eternity, she calmed herself enough to give a mental order to her seers to leave them alone or dissapear, which they did the second with out an objection and left after their labour was complete. Jaune for his part, was still scared and on his knees, the sovereign of the grimm used all her power to vent for her anger at Ozpin in front of his face, she decimated an entire block of Atlas in her anger with just one of her spells, the other only did craters deeper than the previous one in erratic shoots of magic. All that show of her power made him understand a little the ex-headmaster of Heaven academy, if her power scared him for almost destroyed Atlas in her irrational anger, then what a rational Salem could do with all that magic made him tremble

and suddenly, his worries and fears were lost after a single question from her part "what's your name, my child? i need, no... i must know the name of my family"

"fa... family?" he was lost of words, scared of the implications and he was hyperbelint

"yes, my child. You are my family" Salem, for the first time in millenia, truly smiled, a bright smile showed and more tears filled her eyes, this times were tears of happiness

"that, that's impossible. Ruby and, Ozpin said-" he was cut from his rambling, as his belief were being proven by Salem, who was now walking with her arms spread, waiting for a hug he didn't wanted, but was too shocked to even try to fight it

"oh please, Ozma always liked to keep his secrets well hidden. Just look at me, if people knew about my existence, do you think we would had this conversation? Would you be alive or would you be dead?. Who knows? Maybe you could have had a good life if it wasn't for Ozma's silence, but not anymore" she broked the hug and stroked his hair, like his mother used to when he was a younger and more tiny, now he recieved from his many-greats grandmother "your name, darling, tell me you name"

"Jaune... Arc" certain memories inside him made sense in that moment, why he was admitted in Beacon even with his fake transcripts in first place, why was he named team leader and why Tyrian was interested in him. Was he there because Ozpin wanted? Did Ozpin made him team leader for a master plan he had in the moment? he didn't knew it, but... a part of him told him that he did

"then, Jaune Arc, accept this gift from me" her ivory hand came to his chestplate and without much effort, she tear it from his body, then she put the same hand in his chest "AWAKE!"

His chest began to hurt and some weird black liquid enraptured his body, he felt good, it was relaxing and for some reason, he forgot why he was afraid, so his mind just sleep, he was safe, he was fine and he would obey. Then, the black liquid over his body become a black under suit, his white and gold gloves changed to a white and red armored gloves that covered all his arm and with sharp nails that resembled claws on his fingers. His foots also got white and red armored protection that covered all his legs and toe caps that looked like feets of a beast, with a white armored belt over his waist with the Salem/Arc emblem in the middle painted black instead of yellow. His chestplate came next, this one was more stylish than his previous one, the area of the pectorals were bulky and had red pattern over them that looked like roots and a yellow gem bellow the pectorals

Just when he was about to receive his helmet, a well known voice for him came to his ears "JAUNE!" it was Ruby, who first looked at her friend with a worried look, then she looked at the Grimm queen with hate "leave him alone!!" the red tipped haired girl sayed before she deployed Crescent Rose and taked a shoot at Salem's head, who recieved with a smile

"a silver-eyed girl descendant of Ozpin trying to save my descendant. Ironic" she said, still with her hand in the armored chest of her descendant, whose look was in the floor

"desc- Jaune's your descendant!?" Ruby lowered her weapon a little, shocked but not fully believing the words of her enemy

"that's right, silver eyes, your beloved... friend, i guess? is my family. Please, show her, my child" Salem patted his armored shoulder and stood from her previous posture, letting Jaune stood

"yes, mother" Ruby gasped at his face, his previous saphire eyes were now blood red eyes with black sclera and black veins coming from his eyes. there was also some white hairs in his previous blond hair and his hair was the same when she meet him for the first time, long and messy, instead of his spiky short hair

Before she could even mutter a word, his face was covered by white helmet with sharp fangs, long wolf like ears, some simulated fur made with the same white metal coming from the sides, it was practically a wolf helmet showing his fangs with yellow eyes.

He would later took his sword from the floor and gave it a new form with the black liquid, it was more longer, had black root like patterns in the blade and the guard of the sword was replaced with what it looked like bat wings

This wasn't Jaune anymore, not the one who was always for her when she feeled down, the one who cried when they meet again in Argus and not the same vomit boy she was falling for. this was... as much it broke her heart, another Grimm, one she didn't and hoped never to face. His sword was lifted in order for a horizontal strike, but his target moved faster than him and avoided his attack to recover the shield of Jaune, with the diamond shape thing out of the arcs of his emblem. She hugged the shield and gived the armored man a last look, before the tears could leak from her eyes and used her semblance to get away

"Ru...by..." his distortioned voice was the last she heard before flee from there at the max of her speed, with Jaune's previous shield in her hands and her heart breaking on her chest

#rwby #Jaune Arc #salem #ruby rose #rwby lancaster #lancaster #jaune is salem's descendant theory #Grimm!Jaune

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emachinescat · 3 years

Text

Amytal Sodium + Mac

A MacGyver Fan-Fiction

By @emachinescat

@febuwhump day 8 - “hey, hey, this is no time to sleep”

Summary: An increasingly desperate Jack struggles to transport a drugged and barely coherent MacGyver to exfil before it’s too late.

Characters: Mac, Jack

Words: 1,898

TW: drugs

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging! :)

Even though the exfil point was less than a mile from where Jack Dalton stood, it had never been farther. This day was rapidly reaching Cairo levels of suck.

Jack had arrived to rescue his missing partner after an op gone to hell to find the two, now very dead, domestic terrorists who’d taken Mac injecting some foreign substance into his bloodstream. Jack would later find out that it wasn’t the first dose they’d given him - that’s why Mac hadn’t had the opportunity to escape on his own.

Because whatever this stuff was, it messed him up.

The bodies of the terrorists had barely hit the floor when Jack was racing across the room to his friend. Mac had been tied to a sturdy, high-backed dining chair, slumped in his bonds. It took Jack two seconds to cut the duct tape on his partner's wrists and ankles, but Mac hadn’t even seemed to notice he was free. He was awake, but he was not there. His blue eyes had glazed over with a detached vagueness that sent fear sparking down Jack’s spine.

With great effort, Jack had managed to hoist a limp MacGyver to a facsimile of a standing position, and that movement had elicited some response, much to Jack’s enormous relief.

“J-Jack?” Jack fought the urge to cry at the sound of Mac’s voice, weak and lost and scared - it didn’t sound like his partner at all.

“I’m here, pal,” Jack said simply. “Let’s get you home.”

It was easier said than done.

Even with Jack supporting him, Mac couldn’t keep his feet under him for very long. He attacked his newest mission - getting to exfil without Jack having to carry him - with a determination that was one hundred percent on brand for Angus MacGyver, but determination could only get a person so far, especially when they had been drugged with what was most likely some dangerous cocktail of mind-altering drugs. Jack just hoped that whatever had been given to him, it wasn’t deadly.

“So, any idea what they pumped you full of in there, hoss?” Jack asked as he grabbed the back of Mac's belt to steady him for the umpteenth time. It didn’t help that the ground was steep and uneven with roots and rocks - these terrorists had set up shop in an retired, abandoned safe house used by the FBI in the mid-80s, which just so happened to be halfway up a mountain.

Mac’s answer, when it finally came, was not encouraging. It took him at least a full minute to understand and process Jack’s question, and then another full minute to formulate his response. Jack had already given up on the question, thinking that Mac either hadn’t heard him or hadn’t understood, but then Mac slurred, “Truth ssserum.”

Jack stopped moving for a second, pulling Mac to a halt next to him. It was mid-afternoon, yet already it seemed to be growing dark underneath the thick canopy high overhead. He studied his friend closely, taking in even in the dimness the flushed cheeks, sweat-beaded brow, and hazy eyes with anxiety pooling in his gut. “They wanted information?”

Mac nodded, a jerky, uncoordinated motion, and then he muttered, “Pr’bly something like Thiopental Sodium or Amytal Sodium …”

“So what you’re saying is that you’re just really salty right now, huh, kid?” Jack joked weakly, not knowing for sure what either of the drugs mentioned were, but knowing they couldn’t be good. He gripped Mac’s waist tighter as he lost his footing again, this time while standing still, and took on more of his partner's weight. It was a credit to how bad Mac felt that he didn’t protest being supported. He reached out his other hand and felt Mac’s head. It wasn’t hot, but it was reaching a level of warmth that didn’t set well with his overwatch.

“I think you’re getting a fever,” Jack remarked, trying to keep the worry out of his tone.

“Side effect of l’rge doses of Am’tal Sodium,” Mac explained.

Fear clawed at Jack’s chest. “Just how much of this stuff did they give you?” he demanded, even as he started moving again, now half-carrying, half-dragging a mostly limp Mac by his side. The blonde’s feet were barely moving anymore, his toes more often than not scraping uselessly against the loose dirt.

“Too much,” Mac supplied, very unhelpfully.

“Okay…” Jack breathed out slowly in an attempt to calm himself. “Well, what other side effects should we be looking out for? If they used it as truth serum, are you gonna be revealing all your deepest darkest secrets to me? If so, I’m game for a good round of truth or dare.”

“D’sn’t work like that,” Mac informed him, and Jack couldn’t help but crack a smile at the piece of Old Mac trying to shine through. “Truth serums are act--”

“Okay, I’m going to stop you right there, Einstein,” Jack interrupted. “I don’t think you’re up for a science lesson right now. Can you tell me what other symptoms I need to keep an eye out for?” By his best estimate, based on the map he’d checked right before he’d set out with a drugged Mac in tow, exfil was still quite a ways away. If they kept moving at this pace, they should definitely make it in time, but if Mac kept deteriorating, things would get much more complicated.

“Uh… fever,” said Mac, and Jack just grunted, not reminding him that that was the one they’d just talked about. “...confusion… I think? Headache…. Hallucinations, sometimes… anxiety… spasms ‘n diz-zy-ness--” he overpronounced the word like he was having to try extra hard to say it correctly, “--sleepiness, insomnia, vomiting, diarrhea, constipation--”

“Okay, okay, I think I get the picture,” Jack interrupted Mac’s breathless spurting of grim side effect after another. “Geez, you’re starting to sound like a commercial for Prozac or somethin’. How can it give you sleepiness and insomnia? That’s about as opposite as you can get.”

“Mmmm... depends on the person,” Mac said several long seconds later, his words sounding as if they were being pulled with great difficulty from deep within. Still moving, but slower now, Jack glanced over and saw that Mac’s eyelids were beginning to flutter, and suddenly all of Mac’s weight was on Jack. He stumbled, barely keeping them from taking a roll down a steep incline.

“Hey, hey,” Jack gently shook his friend, who stirred with a groan, “this is no time to sleep.”

“Tired,” said Mac simply.

“I know, bud, and I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get your scrawny ass out of these woods before we miss exfil, and I don’t know if I can carry you down this mountain. I need you to help me, even if it’s just a little, okay?” He paused, then added, “And anyway, you probably shouldn’t sleep until medical’s got a chance to look at you. It’s safer that way.”

Mac didn’t say anything, but he did make a valiant attempt to straighten up and bear some of his own weight, so Jack pressed on.

Five minutes later, the nervousness set in. Despite being exhausted and barely coherent, Mac gazed around furtively, whipped his head around at every snap of a twig, mumbled something about his skin crawling and chest hurting and he thought they were being followed. At one point, Mac tried to break away from Jack as if he were the enemy, and would have rolled down the rest of the mountain if Jack’s reflexes hadn’t been so finely tuned.

A short pause and a panic attack later, they were back on their way, Mac still shifty and scared but thankfully more docile. He nodded off again.

“Hey,” Jack reminded him with another jostle, “no sleeping, remember? Let’s get down this mountain first.”

Ten minutes after that, they had to stop for Mac to empty his stomach of everything he’d eaten in the past five years. Jack rubbed his back and offered soothing words as his partner hacked and gasped and sobbed breathlessly against the strain to his body, but there was no time for coddling after the fact. They were running out of time.

Mac really wanted to sleep after the toll that had taken on his system, but Jack prodded him awake, trying to distract him with mindless babble. The ground was slowly beginning to level out, and he could hear the chop of the helicopter blades several hundred yards away in a clearing at the base of the mountain - they were going to make it in time, if only just!

At this point, Mac had become so uncoordinated and woozy that he might as well have been asleep, as Jack was supporting him entirely. But still, every time his head dropped onto Jack’s shoulder or fell forward, Jack prodded him back to consciousness, desperate to keep his boy genius awake and semi-coherent, because what if he fell asleep and didn’t wake up again?

And then they were in the clearing, and Mac was trying to sleep again, and Jack shook him as the exfil team surged forward to put the fading kid on a stretcher. Mac blearily opened his eyes at the movement.

“Hey, Mac,’ Jack said softly as he kept pace with the stretcher with long strides. “Stay awake for a little longer for me, will ya? Just until we get in the air and the medics can take a good look at you.”

Mac studied his face with a serious, but baffled expression. Finally, he gave a tiny, clumsy nod right before he was lifted into the chopper.

“‘Kay, Dad,” he murmured, and Jack froze where he stood, heart pounding wildly in his chest. Mac had said that hallucinations were one of the side effects of whatever drug he thought he’d been given. Was Mac hallucinating now? Was he seeing his dad instead of Jack?

Or - and this idea was one that Jack found himself approaching shyly, as if afraid to acknowledge it in case it turned out not to be true - could it be that Mac’s defenses were down? Could it be that he saw Jack as a father figure, that maybe Jack had been able to fill in, in some small way, the void that James MacGyver had left when he’d abandoned his son?

“Dalton! We need to move!”

Jack shook himself out of his thoughts, swiped the back of his arm across his eyes, and followed Mac into the chopper. Medics were already examining him, and even though Jack was informed that they wouldn’t be able to know for sure what they were dealing with until they were back at Phoenix and could run more extensive tests, he was reassured that sleep was probably the best thing for Mac, now that his vitals were being closely monitored.

Jack sat down next to the stretcher, and grabbed one of the kid’s hands. To his surprise, Mac was still awake, barely clinging on to consciousness.

“Hey, man. You’re gonna get help real soon, okay?”

“Is it… ‘kay to sleep now?” Mac asked, his words falling over one another like someone tumbling in slow motion down the stairs.

Jack smiled warmly and brushed a strand of sweaty hair off of his kid’s forehead. “Yeah, son,” he said, not even realizing what he’d called Mac in this quiet moment - it just felt right. “Now, it’s time to sleep.”

21 notes · View notes

ripspaghet · 4 years

Text

bff | 06

↳ series m.list | 00 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | ongoing

→ pairing: yoongi x reader

→ word count: 5,860

Prologue Summary; Your best friend's boyfriend takes an unhealthy interest in you and just as he shows up something from your past starts to creep up on you again. Could this strange and mysterious man have something to do with it? And should you trust him, or your instincts to run far, far away from him?

→ warnings: angst, swearing, cheating, self hate, trauma

Gone. Gone again. Anytime he feels he's gotten closer to unearthing the melody it slips from his fingertips, like water. It would all be so much easier if he didn't have this desire, this want. Every time it's silent he feels there's this void, something gaping within him, and life begins to feel dismal - yet, he still finds himself here, in this dark and desolate place that doesn't belong to him. A single red light aluminates in the darkness and he's left with no choice but to approach, shatter the glass, and enter. It isn't until screeching alarms pull in attention that he truly realizes that this place is not his own. Invaded. Breached. Ransacked. He's an unwelcome guest - although, these simple facts don't stop him. They pull him in, glass crunching beneath his shoes as he takes a seat. Fear and adrenaline suffocate the darkness looming around him, screaming that he is not wanted. He just needs to remember it. His fingers run along with the ivory keys, the smooth melody of the first five notes flowing into each other, only for an eerie pause of silence to follow. He lets his fingers slip from the keys. It's useless.

A soft echo of notes makes his eyes open.

He turns, looking for where the tune originated - but there's nothing, no one as far as the eye can see in this dense cloud of darkness. Nothing but the alarm filters through.

It's been exactly a day since it happened. The way your nerves are making your heart quake has, if nothing else, increased with time. You've been utterly restless - pacing around your dorm, spacing out while staring at the chipped paint of your white walls, and picking at hangnails excessively. You know you're going to have to face this. Otherwise, the rug will be pulled out from under you when you least expect it. It's safe to say you'd rather be the one pulling the rug, then be the one standing on it, waiting anxiously for your inevitable downfall.

You knock on the door about five times before it finally opens, making way to the threshold beyond it and a pair of pleasantly surprised eyes. Her gaze makes your stomach drop, so you opt for studying the interior details of her apartment. It's spacious and open, natural light pouring in from just about every nook and cranny. It suits her, she's never been one for reciting in the dark - despite her, more often than not, glaring gaze.

"____," She opens the door wider, "I didn't know you were coming, I would've made food if you called. Come in." You oblige, taking off your coat as you enter the apartment, the smell of scented candles, and floral encasing you in a spring time-capsule. You hang your coat on the rack next to the door. "It's been so stressful since the new semester started, we've barely had any time to hang out." You follow her into the kitchen after removing your shoes. "Work has been crazy too, you remember that kid that kept coming in and ripping the flowers off their stems?" She circles the center bar, making her way to the fridge and pulling out a pitcher of what you presume to be tea as she pours it into a glass, "Well, the manager refuses to ban him. He blames me for allowing the kid to destroy our merchandise." She slides the glass to you, "You prefer it cold, right?" She sighs, "That manager, such a prick. I'm really considering quitting if this keeps up." Remaining silent you watch as she fiddles with her own glass as she rambles, "I didn't mean to neglect our friendship or anything. It's just between all this and...Yoongi," Your stomach drops and your ears go fuzzy. You don't hear much of what she says, swearing you're about to barf up the chicken you'd had for lunch not all that long ago. Her voice lowers as if she's afraid someone might be listening in, "He's being so strange, showed up h-"

"Mina, I need to talk to you about something." You don't dare meet her eyes, you keep them downcast on the dewdrops of condensation rising on the glass of your untouched drink. She falls silent, the air around you becoming heavy. With a sigh, you take a seat at the bar but still neglect to touch the tea in front of you. Mina moves to take the seat next to you, still silent, observing your exhausted expression. "Listen, about Yoongi - I don't really know how to say this, so, I'll just say it. He k-"

You're startled into a flinch as fumbling footsteps followed by a loud crash of glass and fuck knows what else, cuts you off. As you turn your head, a lanky body stumbles out of the hallway into the kitchen, their back to you and Mina as a harsh swear makes your breath hitch. Dirt and glass is now spread out across the marble floor in a messy display and Mina moves quickly while you remain in your seat, watching as she rushes with worried words, "Are you okay? Did you cut yourself?"

As if you hadn't already realized, your eyes nearly bulge out of your head, heart slamming up into your throat as his dark hair falls over his brows and shifts ever so slightly with the tilt of his head, "I'm fine, " His dark eyes never leave you as Mina scans him for injuries, "your plant, not so much."

"I'll get the broom." Mina saunters off, leaving you alone with the source of your guilty conscience - you're dripping with it, a metaphorical layer of sweat against your skin that's almost suffocating.

"____-"

"Don't."

"Got it! Yoongi, hold this for me."

His mouth is quick to clamp shut as he takes the dustpan that's shoved into his chest, his eyes darting away from you, "Yeah, sure."

Mina works quickly as always, swiping the dark potting soil up into the yellow pan that Yoongi holds steady. Nervously, you shift your gaze away from the two and pick up your tea to take a large gulp.

This is going up in flames. How are you supposed to tell her with him here? You don't want to be- No, you shouldn't be caught up in this. You should have never let it happen…

"There," Mina's voice pulls your attention back up, "I'll-"

"No, I've got it." His hand lightly brushes her wrist before he turns to dispose of the dirt. The gesture is small enough to convince you that neither of them really noticed it - just a natural loving touch, nothing unusual - though, it's enough to make you look away again.

"____? Are you alright?"

Your breath hitches and you have to force the hard expression on your face to loosen, "I'm f-fine." They are together, happy, maybe even in love. He hasn't said a word to her about any of it, yet, he wasn't alone in the act. You could've stopped him. You could've pushed him away, should've told him no. She's your best friend and you let him-

"What was it you were saying? Something about Yoon-"

"Nothing," You force a big smile, "I think I was just a bit worried about you. As you said, we haven't made time for each other lately."

"Oh, " Her lips purse, "we should make time for each other soon then."

How selfish are you? Never in your life have you thought of yourself as a horrible person. But now? Your skin is crawling with self-loathe. Every time you meet Mina's gaze your stomach drops - not because of what happened, but because of how it made you feel. The images that run rampant in your head shouldn't be there. It's all the worse that there was no lust driving your actions - there was a deep-rooted desire, an intoxicating burning beneath your skin that makes you dizzy just thinking about it. A passionate fire had dwindled to life beneath your ribcage. It should make you sick. You should be repulsed at the mere thought. "I should get going now. I don't want to intrude on your couple time. I'll see you in class."

"You don't-"

"Call or text if you need me."

The hallway is clustered with people, bumping shoulders with you as you drag yourself along. Maybe it's best you act like it never happened, that Mina remains happy and not miserable knowing the man she is in love with kissed her best friend...and that her best friend allowed it - kissed him back even. And maybe you deserve this dreadful feeling that's swelling inside, growing larger day by lousy day.

You stop abruptly, a student behind you swearing at you for making them walk around. You don't know why you've stopped, don't know what urges you to turn your head but, never the less, you do. You blink at the letters next to the door. Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you peek through the small door window. It's tantalizing, filling you with more anger than any remorse. You let this thing, this object, control you. Your every move and action revolves around running from it and for what?

Before you can convince yourself otherwise you're yanking the door open and marching in, heading straight for the ivory keys sat on the opposite side of the music room. How could you be afraid of something so ridiculous? It's pathetic. You plop down on the bench, eyes set to kill as your fingers naturally fall into the correct posture. And with a soft and steady exhale of air, your fingers slowly ignite, brushing along the keys with a fevered nostalgia.

'Prélude no.25 in C sharp minor, Op.45', a piece you once knew like the back of your hand. The memories of it still linger fresh in your mind, so much so that your hands could flow with the smoothness of the lilting notes even in your sleep. Your turmoil seems to whip and lash at your fingertips like a ravenous animal as the song crescendos, the tempo increasing with veracity and then it cuts through you, a sharp pain traveling up your right wrist and you yank your hands away. The room falls silent, nothing but the sounds of birds chirping outside and the wind whistling. Your eyes sting with unshed tears and you can't help but slam your foot into the floor out of frustration.

"____?"

Your breath catches in your throat, fear falling in the pit of your stomach as you turn your head.

"What are you doing in here?"

The sight of Jimin's blonde hair and worried eyes only calms you a little. You'd worried that maybe someone else had found you here, but it being him wasn't exactly any better. "I just-" You turn to look back down at the piano, your brows knit together, "I don't know."

"Come on," Jimin is quick to make his way over to you, yet you don't turn back to face him - even when he wraps his hand around your wrist and gently pulls it up to inspect, "you shouldn't do this to yourself." You turn slowly, reluctant to face anyone at such a vulnerable moment, but you manage to frown at him as the pad of his thumb traces soothing patterns into your skin. His hair is swept neatly across his forehead, a soft smile plays on his lips that doesn't meet his eyes, "Does it still hurt?"

"It hurts every day, Jimin." You turn away, "You know that."

"You're strong ____."

You flinch, not expecting him to say that, of all things.

"After everything that's happened, I've never known you to give up. So, stop putting yourself down." He pauses, coming to sit beside you but never letting your wrist go, "I know you can't play anymore, but your talent doesn't just exist within a piano. It's a lot more than that." Still refusing to meet his gaze, you begin picking at a hangnail, "Here," He lets your hand go and you briefly glance over to see what he's doing just as he holds a small yellow sucker out to you, "it's lemon flavored."

You glance down at the thing held up to your face, "Why-"

"You like lemonade, right?" He smiles, eyes twinkling, "Hurry and take it, we have to get to class before you're late again."

You snatch the candy from him, sniffling in annoyance, "What am I? A five-year-old?"

"You don't have to be a child to enjoy the sweeter things in life."

You abruptly plop down into your chair between Mina and Jimin, exhaling dramatically as you do. If only it'd all been a dream and you could just forget it. How many times have you thought that now? Were you in the Hundreds now? Thousands?

"Everything alright?"

Like clockwork, you sputter nervously under Mina's gaze, "Ah, yeah, just tired. Must be insomnia or something."

"Insomnia?" Jimin raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to look at you, "Do you have that?"

"Yes? No? Maybe? I'm not a doctor. Where is the professor?" Both of them turn their attention to the front of the class, seemingly not taking notice of your jumpy behavior. Though, you're sure Jimin did. He just knew when it was time to leave you be.

"Oh, that, " Mina nibbles on her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling, "Professor Lee caught some nasty bug over the weekend."

"I fail to see why that would make you smile like a little school girl that just wet herself."

She scowls at Jimin, "The professor asked a former student of his to teach the class until he returns."

What?

"Oh, wow, so Loverboy is subbing just so he can stare at your toxic face all day? I don't buy it. He must be into guys."

"Excuse me?"

You think you're about to vomit up your breakfast.

"He finds me cute and couldn't get enough."

"He absolutely does not!"

Please, for the love of all that's good in this world.

"Told me himself."

"Stop making shit up, Park!"

"As soon as you stop buzzing in my ear, you fly."

"I am not a fly! You-"

The classroom door slams and you jump in your seat, making both Jimin and Mina turn to you questioningly as you squeeze your eyes shut in denial. Slow footsteps make their way to the front of the lecture hall and the echo of them makes you cringe.

There is absolutely no way the universe hates you enough to-

"Hello, my name is Min Yoongi, a music producer and a former student of Professor Lee's. Unfortunately, the Professor is bedridden and has asked me to substitute for the time being, let's get along well."

Never mind, the universe doesn't hate you - it loathes you. You'd think that after everything you'd have no trouble avoiding him. Hell, you thought that he'd do the same, but you suppose Min Yoongi isn't going to be giving you any breaks anytime soon.

You let your head fall from your hands and slam into the desk beneath you with a concerningly loud thud.

"Woah, are you alright?" Jimin places a hand on your shoulder and you miserably slug away from him.

"Don't touch me."

The class drags on like a snail and you've sat here long enough to, staring at a head of dark hair, try to hex the man it belongs to about a thousand times - give or take. You've yet to see a beehive fall from the ceiling and send him running home though.

When the bell finally does ring you're not even granted the semblance of running out yourself as Mina cuts you off, "I'm having my birthday party early this year."

"Oh, really? When is it?" You keep your head down as the two of you mosey along, closer and closer to the front of the classroom.

"Tomorrow at my place."

You nod, more focused on escape than anything else.

"It was going to be on my birthday week, but Yoongi and I made plans together for the day of my birthday. We're going to-"

"That's great Mina. I'm sure the two of you will have a great time together." You force a smile as if your life depends on it, "Say, what time is the party?"

"Oh," Mina laughs with realization as you inwardly sigh with relief at the welcomed change of subject, "it's at eight."

"Great."

Mina bounces over to the exit with excitement, "You'll be there?"

"Of course." You force another smile as you follow after her.

Almost there, almost home free.

"Great, I'll see you then."

You nod again at the threshold, watching as Mina waves back to you.

"____, I need to speak with you."

You freeze, a deadly chill rushing down your spine. "No, thanks." You wave behind you, not turning back as you continue with your escape.

"It's about your test."

You freeze again, your eye twitching at your lack of luck today, "I'm in a real rush, I can't-"

"Come here, now."

Fuck the universe, that vindictive bitch.

Reluctantly, you turn and make your way back towards the center of the desk you had passed by with ease not all that long ago, "You failed your last test. Professor Lee informed me that you need to retake it, or you'll fail this class."

You keep your eyes directed on the wall behind him, not once sparing him a proper glance, "Okay, I'll find a tutor and-"

"There's no available tutors, because it's exam season. I told Professor Lee I'd handle this, so I'll be teaching you."

Your eyes are quick to dart to his now, "No!"

His fingers tap against the desk and they draw your attention as his eyes narrow in on you, "This has nothing to do with-" He pauses, letting out a steady breath of air and you lift your gaze back to his. Rather than being irritated or annoyed, as you expect, your surprised to find that he looks super uncomfortable, maybe even anxious, "our relationship outside of this room. And might I remind you that this test is half this semester's grade. You'll only fail again without proper help." You grit your teeth, holding back your protests. You hate to admit this, but he's right - again. "Starting next week come here after you've finished all your classes. I will be in the office grading papers. And-" He slides something across the desk to you, "your laptop, you left it."

You grab your laptop quickly before turning to leave, all the while not uttering another word to Yoongi.

The bathroom mirror is fogged over completely - except for a small spot that you've whipped at in order to dab foundation onto your neck, thoroughly painting over the purple and yellow discoloration on your skin. You juggle with your phone in your other hand, holding it to your ear, "I just- hear me out?"

"Why should I? I don't like her, so the answer is no. End of conversation."

"Please? I don't want to go alone."

"Why not? It's not like it's going to be a fun party. Doubt there will even be alcohol."

"You-"

"Get out of here already!"

"Shit," You begin shoving your makeup back into your bag, fumbling with your phone in the process.

"Listen, I know you've been having a hard time lately but there's no way in hell I'm-"

"Fine! Don't go! It's not like I need you there or anything!" You slam the bathroom door shut behide you, sure to piss off your roommate, who is washing shampoo from her hair.

"Don't be like that, ____. You know she wouldn't even want me-" Throwing your bag over your shoulder you pull the phone away from your ear and hang up. After all the things Jimin has put you through, he can't even do you the smallest of favors. You stomp over to your dorm room door, storming out into the hallway, and down the stairs. You shove the glass door to your complex open, letting the cold wind blow tangles into your freshly brushed hair as you stride toward the Lift driver that's been waiting for you at the curb for the past thirty minutes. Under normal circumstances, you'd apologize to the driver for making them wait, but as you've established, time and time again, these are not normal circumstances. As you buckle your seat belt the driver takes off, drifting at about thirty on the speedometer.

A heavy sigh falls off your lips and you lean your head against the window as the first ticks of rain make contact with the transparent glass. Your phone buzzes in your lap and you glance down at it. You half expected it to be a text from Jimin, although the notification is from an unknown number.

Message from Unknown Number-8:32pm: Let me make up for lost time. Please, answer your phone.

You begin typing only to be cut off by another buzz.

Message from Unknown Number-8:33pm: Don't try telling me I've got the wrong number. Jimin gave it to me.

You scowl down at the small screen before abruptly turning off your phone. You curse Jimin as you shove the phone into your bag.

"Thought you said you weren't going to come."

He fiddles with the ends of his hair, all the while avoiding your gaze, "Well, Jungkook agreed to come along so-"

"You can be a real jerk sometimes, you know that?"

Sighing, Jimin leans against his younger friend, but Jungkook's attention seems to lie elsewhere as he completely ignores the two of you, "You know how I feel about Mina."

"Yeah," You turn to see what's got Jungkook so preoccupied, "and you know how I feel about parties." Across the room you spot Mina and Yoongi. The two are conversing rather aggressively and you inhale sharply, barely managing to remind yourself that it's normal for Mina to blow things out of proportion and it's probably nothing. You don't need to worry. You force your attention back to Jimin.

"I have no idea how you feel about anything nowadays. You're-"

"I swear I'm never doing anything for that she-devil again."

You turn to see a rather annoyed Seokjin now standing behind Jungkook, with a large birthday cake in hand.

Raising an eyebrow, you tilt your head, "What are you doing here?"

He looks away from Jungkook, who is now laughing at his elder's misfortune, "I was conned."

"Ah," You nod and point at the cake, "she made you bake that?"

Jimin shakes his head, "What a shame you let her walk all over you."

"Yeah," Seokjin rolls his eyes before glaring over in Mina's direction, "it's too quiet in here. I'm going to start some music."

You watch Seokjin make his way over to a speaker and then leave for the kitchen. The smell of birthday cake tickles your nose now as the sound of soft pop music lulls the small crowd of people in the apartment space.

"God, this is boring."

"Beyond boring."

Those two seem to be unable to keep their moping to themselves since you arrived, although you haven't paid them all that much attention. You're more concerned with how you're going to avoid eating cake later on. You hate overly sweet things with a passion and Mina's cake is sure to taste like a sugar rush.

"We should liven it up a bit."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

"How about it ____?" You drag your gaze away from a frowning Mina to glance over at Jimin, who's holding a plate full of crumbs that were previously covered in chips. Jungkook stands next to him, bordly munching on some handmade snack you couldn't remember the name of. The two of them refused to stay anywhere that wasn't right beside the snack table. You guessed since there wasn't any alcohol, they were making do with what's available.

"Can you two behave until the candles are blown out? I don't wanna hear Mina yelling until I've already told her my excuse to leave."

Jungkook nods, "Understandable,"

"I suppose I'll wait."

You just want to go home and get some more sleep, you couldn't care less what these two goons had up their sleeves. Yes, you want Mina to have a good birthday, but you can only maintain your act for so long while around her. Faking isn't your strong suit.

"Oh, God,"

"Wha-Oh,"

You glance back over at the two of them to see that they're staring across the room. Jimin is frowning, while Jungkook looks as if his whole life is flashing before his eyes. You turn to see what it is, only to find yourself wishing you never did.

"____! There you are! You sly fox, you. I've been looking for you everywhere."

Your stomach drops, "Who told him?"

Jimin scowls as his friend makes his way over to you, "It definitely wasn't me."

"Sorry, ____. He promised me he wouldn't come if I told him." Jungkook scoots away from you out of fear of your wrath.

The guy approaching you is quick to move to your side, placing an arm around your waist. You're sure to send Jungkook the deadliest of glares that has him cowering behind a now, rather aggravated Jimin.

"Tae, what are you doing here?" You almost choke as you force a smile onto your face.

He pulls you closer to him, a smirk playing on his lips, "I heard from a little birdy that you'd be here."

As a strong urge to knee Jungkook in the crouch starts to settle in, you grit your teeth, forcing yourself to bear it and not cause a scene.

"Yah, Taehyung, who do you think you are, clinging to my best friend like that?" Jimin's brows have shot up in question as he stares Taehyung down with accusing eyes.

His arm doesn't leave you, though you can feel him stiffen under Jimin's intimidating gaze, "I-"

"If you want your dick sucked find some other girl to do it."

Taehyung frowns, "Jimin, I'm not-"

"Taehyung, " You pat his shoulder, gaining the attention of all three boys' in the process, "how about you go get me a drink from the kitchen?"

He looks back and forth between you and Jimin, slightly suspicious before nodding, and heading off.

Jimin scoffs, "The nerve of him."

"I'm going to get some fresh air. Tell him I went to the restroom or something. Also, try to keep from fighting. Like I said earlier-"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't want to ruin Mina's birthday party. Blah, blah, blah."

"Jimin," You glare, "I'm serious."

"Alright, " He groans, rolling his eyes, "I'll stop. Just go before that horny baboon gets back and tries humping your leg."

You roll your eyes but nod never the less. Jungkook whispers another sorry to you as you walk past them towards the apartment door. You only wave him off, not caring enough to bother with his inability to keep a secret. You're too tired and honestly just wish you could go home. You mean, you could go home with the excuse of, "I started feeling sick." Which wouldn't be a complete lie - thanks to Taehyung. You know Mina wouldn't fall for it though.

Luckily, her apartment is on the bottom floor and it doesn't take you long to make your way outside. The warmth from the building's heater almost seems to melt off your skin in the chilled air. It's only around dinner time, but you suspect the sun has begun to set behind the rain clouds, due to the darkness that has started settling over the city. Your steps are small as you watch your breath puff out into a cold cloud passed your chapped lips. Fiddling with the sucker that still rests in your pocket, you shut your eyes and listen to the downpour that assaults the sidewalk. You hadn't planned on being so weak, so vulnerable. After all these years you'd hoped that maybe you would've grown stronger by now - but you feel weaker than ever.

An exaggerated sigh startles you and your eyes snap open.

His back is to you as rain showers down onto the awning above, black shoes resting in a puddle on the curb of the street as he stares at cars zipping by. You've never noticed before, but the rainy weather compliments his skin. You find your eyes lingering on the pads of his fingers and the blue veins below red knuckles - a perfect contrast of colors. Really, you know better than to approach him. You know better than to go anywhere near him - but, knowing better doesn't stop you from making your way over to him with a misplaced sense of determination as he reaches into his pocket, nor does it keep you from plopping down next to him as he places the retrieved object between his velvety lips.

He pauses his actions to glance over at you curiously. You frown at him before reaching up and plucking the purple lighter from his left hand, "What are you-"

You shove the lighter into your pocket, exchanging it with your sucker. You know you'll never eat it, might as well put it to good use. You hold it out to him, "You should replace bad habits with healthy habits."

He turns away with a scoff, nibbling on his lower lip - an obvious attempt to keep himself from smiling, "That isn't particularly healthy."

You glance at the sucker, "No, but it's better than what you had before." Nudging the candy into his now empty hand you purse your lips.

Reluctantly, he takes the cigarette away from his mouth and slides it back into its pack, "So, you're talking to me again?"

"No," You stare at him as his long fingers unwrap the yellow sucker and plop it into his mouth.

"Then what do you call this?"

You look away, opting to stare at the wet asphalt and listen to the constant pitter-patter of the rain, "Why were you and Mina fighting?"

Silence falls over the two of you for a moment before he sighs and rolls the stick of the sucker along his tongue, "She wants me here while I need to be elsewhere."

"It's her birthday party."

"Yeah," He snaps, eye sharpening as they flicker over to you, "I told her a month before she planned it what days I'd have work. She did this on purpose."

"Why would she-"

"Because she thinks I'm cheating on her with my coworker." The words are spat bitterly, the sound of the sucker cracking between the tension of his teeth. Your lips clamp shut and you look away from him. Why are you getting involved? You're only making things messier for yourself. "She's not all that wrong, though. I guess I deserve this."

Your head whips back over, "W-what? Are you cheating with a coworker?"

He turns to look at you, brows furrowed, "What? No, I-" He pauses then shakes his head, deciding against it and laughs, "Why are you here ____?"

You glance around, "I-Uh-Mina said I had to come and I-"

His head tips forward, dark hair falling over his lashes, "No, why are you here, with me."

"Oh," You watch the rain as it begins to slow, "I'm not sure."

"Thought you hated me."

"I should." You grit your teeth in annoyance.

"But you don't." Rather than it being a question, it's more of a statement, as if he already knows exactly how you feel.

You don't say a word, you just blink over at his side profile, heart thudding against your ribcage.

He sighs, turning to look at you, "You and I, I know it isn't good. I know I should stay away from you and you do the same to me...but," His dark eyes trace your features, as if trying to memorize them, "I don't think-"

"Jimin! You asshole! Get out! You were never invited for this exact reason!"

You both turn to see Jimin stumbling out of the apartment complex, Mina hot on his heels, "It's not my fault your party was boring!"

Shit.

"Shut up!" She lands a solid slap that echoes off the back of Jimin's neck and through the rainy streets.

"Fuck! Jungkook! Do something she's touched me! I'm infected!"

Jungkook isn't far behind the pair, seeing as a second later he's the next person to rush out onto the sidewalk. Mina shoves Jimin's chest and he barks with laughter as he stumbles back, "Are you a child?!"

"Sure, if that's what you want me to be."

"Jimin, come on, stop. ____ said to-"

"____ said what?! Is she the one who brought you?!"

Shit.

"What? No, I-"

Next to burst through the door is Taehyung, who is quick to step in between Mina and Jimin, "Really sorry about all this Mina. I'll escort Jimin home."

"You?!" Jimin laughs dryly, "Why? So you can have another go at ____?"

Taehyung's brows crease as he opens his mouth to speak, but when he glances over to see you sitting on the curb he shifts gears, "____! There you are!"

Fuck.

All of their heads turn to you, Jimin raising an eyebrow, Jungkook looking confused, and Mina narrowing her eyes at you as she assesses the fact that her boyfriend is sitting next to you.

"The fuck are you doing out here?" You can tell that her question is directed at Yoongi, only by the small shift of her eyes. Yoongi simply shakes his head and turns away to watch the cars again.

Somewhere in all the commotion, Taehyung had made his way over to you, seeing as when he plops down next to you and snakes an arm around your waist you flinch, "Is this where you've been hiding?"

"For the love of God, Taehyung, if you don't-"

Jimin is cut off when Yoongi stands up, pulling you with him by the wrist, and glaring at Taehyung in such a way that he freezes on the curb - hands kept to himself. You fidget at the feeling of Yoongi's cold fingers wrapped around your wrist, holding your breath. The group turns dead silent before you eventually pull away from Yoongi, taking your wrist back, "Taehyung, please take Jimin home."

"What?!" Jimin squawks at you, "You said you needed me-"

"And I should've just asked Jungkook instead." You're quick to cut Jimin off, glaring at him as if he'd just stepped on your toe.

"I can't believe this. I literally-"

"Aw, poor Park. First time getting dumped on a sidewalk?"

"Shut up!" The snarl takes all of you by surprise, even Mina takes a step back, mouth clamping shut.

"Jimin,"

Jimin's eyes shift back to you, flickering over to Taehyung, then Yoongi before settling back on you, "Are you going to tell me what's going on with you?"

"What's going on with me?" You scoff, "You're joking, right?"

"Well, other than the usual shit show you have going on." His words are harsh and they catch all of you off guard for a second time. Jimin tends to be blunt when he needs to be, yes, but never harsh, "I'm fed up, ____. You won't talk to me. You're just bottling it all up. You can't expect anything the change if you-"

"You're the one who gave Hoseok my number!"

a/n: sorry it took me so long to post and that this is kinda filler🙇‍♀️ but it's the start of some character development and the conflict is raising so it's about get crazy real soon👀😳

@team-work-made-the-dream-work @seokchella @crackhead1-800 @chogiyeol-utopia @thatchampagnebitch @jeonchan26 @loveyoongles @ghoularaki @team-wang-puppy

To be tagged send an ask 🍬🚬

#bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi au #mina twice #min yoongi #bts au #bts jimin #yoongi angst #bts angst #taehyung x reader #suga x reader #suga angst #bff | 06 #bff series

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faangirl101 · 4 years

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Revolution pt2, spec ops guys x reader

PART 1 PART 3

Pairings: Alpha/tank x reader,Riot/reader

Warnings: Smut, pain

Authors note: since the first part was so short im just going to post this part right away! ps look at that pic, I KNOW HE PACKING

"I'm riot", his dreads bobbed when he raised his head to look at me. I was returned to the couch by Tank, who left shortly after. "Riot", i raised an eyebrow "Really? Riot and Tank?". He made a muffled noise which i suspected was a chuckle "we like to keep our identities hidden from the authorities". I let out a "oh" before trying on a smile "My name is y/n". Then i fell quiet. Had i hidden my identity? The previous hours seemed dimmed and blurry. We both sat still and silent, watching each others like preys and predators. Who was going to say something. It turned out to be riot. "You should take a shower and i can wash your clothes, get off all the cs particles", he let out an inviting hand which i had no other choice but to grab. I knew damn well i couldn't get up on my own. "I-i", i looked down at my feet "I hate to ask this but, but could you help me?". I promised that if he didn't still have his helmet on he would raise an eyebrow. "I can't stand on my own", i tried to ignore how close his body was "i dont think i'm capable of showering". He chuckled, probably directed at me and not with me "you want help?". I could feel a brush threatening "shut up". I joined the laugh creeping behind the mask as he somehow nodded "il help, no worries".

I was stripped down to my underwear, hands nervously fumbling with the last of my clothing. Riot was sitting on top of the toilet, leaned against the wall behind him. I felt his burning eyes stroking my body from behind his helmet. For a polite guy with manners he wasn't scared to let me know he was watching me in my privacy. "So", i needed to break the silent desperately "what do you look like under the mask?". He stood still, didn't move a muscle. I for a second thought he simply did not hear me but then he lifted both his huge hands and clicked the sides of the helmet. i could feel my heartbeat beating so hard i could've sworn i felt my ribs shattering. He slowly lifted the helmet revealing a handsome face. Dark mocha skin glistering in the sweat from the helmet. A well trimmed sculptured beard and a sudden hit of cologne was what i noticed first. Short after it was his caramel dark eyes moving up and down my body freely with no shame. Lips tucked in between cologne commercial worthy perl teeth. The thick dreads were tucked in a lazy pulled together ponytail at the low on his backhead.

Fuck, did he have to be that attractive. I was now more intimidated then before, but now for completely different reasons. This man? This ridiculously good looking man was going to help me shower. "Not what you thought i was going to look like?", he brought me back from my daydreams and i realized i had been silently watching him for too long. I quickly collected myself as i smiled embarrassed "to be honest, i don't even think i was expecting a human beneath". He chuckled and stood up with the helmet under his arm. "You can try to shower, call me if you need help", he turned his backside to me to finally give me the privacy i needed. Relieved i dragged of the last clothing protecting my "innocence" as i on dangerously shaky legs moved my way into the shower. After a few thoughtful seconds of figuring out the controls i turned the knob. Crystal clear warm water started to stroke down my bruised back. I moaned quietly, in a mix of pain and pleasure of finally getting the tear gas of my body. I watch the water return down the drain mixed with dirt and what i hope wasn't blood. I had to keep the hand on the side of the shower, similar to an old lady, to keep myself from losing grip of the ground. When i felt my body being remotely clean i reached out for the schampo but groaned in response. The pain aching in my shoulders kept me from rising my hand further then my hip. "You okay y/n?", hearing my name fall from his lips made a shudder go down my spine. I closed my eyes, cursing silently. This was so awkward. "Yes, sorry, could you help me?". I heard rumbling on the other side but when i heard the clasp of a belt the realisation clicked in. He was going to help me undressed. I wasn't exactly sure what i was expecting, but the thought of it made an excitement rush down my body. Another heartbeat starting beating, one i was desperate to keep calm. The shower drain was pulled to the side before i could cover my body. I kept my eyes on a strain, keeping them on his face. I needed to control myself. His body underneath the suit was huge as well. Everything on this man was huge. Fuckfuck. The heartbeat skipped a beat as a warmth startin radiating down my belly. Under control, right. I had to remind myself to keep myself from looking at it.

He seemed to have similar ideas as his eyes were only on mine, keeping themself from searching my body. "You needed help?", he asked as he took another step into the shower, shutting the curtain behind him. His frame took up most of the shower, forcing our bodies to be closer than i would've chosen. "Y-yes", i stuttered and gulped down the insecurities creeping up "i can't wash out my hair, my arms can barely move above my body". He nodded as if i had given him an order as he struck out his well sculpted arm. It moved over my head, reminding me once again of our height difference, and grabbed the shampoo bottle.I held my breath as he lowered his palms filled with glistering white schampo down into the roots of my hair. I kept myself from shivering when his fingertips touched my scalp. Slowly he started massaging it down into my wet hair and without really thinking about it i leaned into his touch. His fingertips were slipping between my strands of hair, over my sensitive skin. My mouth fell open in a O when he applied pressure, pushing all the right spots. When he brushed by an aching placed hidden behind my ear i let out a quiet whimper. I shot my eyes open in surprise to catch his reaction to my outburst. His eyelashes were heavy of waterdrops, and the eyes seemed darker than before. My mouth fell open on instinct once again when he pushed his tips against the same spot without missing a beat. This whimper was harder to hold back when he slipped multiple fingers over the same spot. It was like pulling a switch. Suddenly my hair was pulled back in a hard grip, angled up at his down leaned figure. He pressed his soft lips hard against mine. Desperately, i moaned into his touch. I moved my lips together with him, like it was rehearsed. His tongue slipped between my swollen lips, exploring my mouth like it was the best thing he ever tasted. He moved his angle, pushing me up the wet tile behind me. My lips wrapped around his wet strong tongue sucking teasley, a trick i learned in high school. He groaned in response, two of his hands slipping down the sides of my body. In the heat of the moment, he still took it slow and careful with my bruised body in mind. He looked at me for approval when he grasped my thighs and wrapped them around his hips. If i shifted my hips the slightest i would feel his member, but i fought the urge. Instead i wrapped my arms, the best i could without hurting them, around his neck. We seperated, catching our breaths. As i tried my best to regain control he started mouthing down the skin on my throat. I leaned back against the tile, giving him more access which he gladly took. He left hickeys and bite marks in the path up to my mouth again. Our tongues started dancing again and i enjoyed the hint of toothpaste and whiskey stinging in his breath. I didn't catch him slowly putting me down until i felt the familiar cold wet hard floor beneath me. I broke our kiss to look at him, puzzled at his actions. He scanned my body like if i was a work of art which made my insides scorching hot. His long finger was wrapped lazily around my neck, letting his thumb follow the marks he left. He then lost all contact with my body which i whined in response. I saw him holding his serious demander and holding back the smile twitching in the corner of his full lips. "Turn around", he muttered underneath his breath as he swiped his own lip with the tip of his thumb. Breathless, pacing over what his next move was, i obligated. I placed my hands on the tile, closing my eyes. I heard him moving behind me, inspecting my new position. I felt his burning hot eyes on my backside before he finally took a step forward. I let out a embarrassing moan when i felt his hot and heavy member pressed up against my cheeks. He quickly wrapped a hand around my mouth but not applying pressure. A warning more then a threat. "You have to keep quiet or Tank is going to hear", he whispered in my ear as his hot breath against my neck lifted the hairs on my arms. His words made another shock of excitement go through my body. I nipped at the inside of his hand, not bothering to answer.

The hand that wasn't clamped over my mouth moved down my spine. His finger stroked the skin, getting closer and closer to where i wanted him. As if to motion him lower i arched my back, pressing my ass hard against his member. He growled and bucked up between my cheeks. His hand slipped between our bodies, distancing his cock from my pounding heat. I tensed up when his fingers brushed against the rim of my hole before he moved down. His ring and middle finger slowly stroked between my wet lips stopping right before my clitoris before moving back. "Riot", i whispered with closed eyes against his hand. "Hmm?", he was mocking me, his breath heavy next to my shivering shoulder. He now completely stopped touching my pussy and dragged it to my inside thighs instead. He prickled lightly over the skin, up and down. So close yet so far.

Pissed off, at his constant teasing i moved my hand backwards and found his member. I gripped the base tightly in which he hissed. "Good boy", i teased back as I moved my head just enough to suck down three fingers from the hand covering my mouth. "Shut up", he muttered and grasped the hand around him and placed it on the small of my back. But, he kept the fingers in my mouth, figuring it would keep me quiet. He finally moved his fingers back into my second heartbeat and started slowly moving the tips in circles. I whined around his finger in appreciation, and sucked down harder. "Fuck", he muttered before slipping a finger inside. I clamped down on it, happy to finally be filled with anything. "Fuck", he repeated, louder as he moved his finger in a painfully slow rhythm. "Riot", i moaned out, bucking back at his finger "if you don't go faster i will go and fuck Tank instead".

Apparently, a sensitive spot. He growled deep in his throat as he added another finger and started slamming them hard into me. His fingertips brushed against a good spot and my head fell back onto his shoulder. He dragged the fingers out of my mouth with a pop, and let them go down to rub my clit in a forceful pace. Now, filled with two huge fingers and a fast rate i was gasping low down in my throat. "Quiet", he whispered before biting down my neck. It was the final strike. I let out a breathless scream, so deep in my dry throat nothing came out. Ecstasy filled to the brim in every nerv as my walls contracted down onto his fingers which returned to a sloppy rate. The steam set ceiling become smattered with white stars. He rides out my orgasm, until my knees went weak. If i could barely stand before, it was damn near impossible now. "Okay baby", he smattered kisses down the bite marks on my neck "let me take care of you".

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xzeerohwd · 3 years

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Lost in Waste: A Gleaners Paradise. The first in a series of three chapters.

If you happen to be an armchair gardener, you can understand the frustration you feel when you lose a couple of heads of lettuce to garden slugs or maybe a tomato plant or two to heavy rain mold. There is also the pure satisfaction as you yank a handful of carrots from the ground, pick a pepper or two and delight in the fresh dilled chill of a cucumber for dinner all after a quick rinse in the sink.

Leveling the playing field.

Now, compare your backyard bounty to that of an industrial/commercial agricultural farm where acres take over from rows, miles from mounds and billions of dollars invested as opposed to a few dollar bills. While true, 30 to 40 percent of food waste in America comes from general home consumerism and lack of consumption, 165 billion dollars of wasted food product stems from the big corporate farmlands in our nation.

Fall into the gap.

How is it that we grow so much of the sustainable food resource, yet it is where the most waste can be found? Let’s look at this from the ground up:

•50 % of US land is farmland. •30% to 40 % of crops can be called waste crops during and post-harvest due to ground felling. •Food safety rules for farms that must register to legally operate fall under that are G.A.P. audited and certified. •Good Agricultural Practices, or G.A.P., will only allow any crop that hasn’t hit the dirt to be marketable.

Might sound harsh and defeatist, but when you take into consideration the health risks involved, it is a better alternative than risking serious medical hazards.

•Pesticides, CO2 emissions, fertilizers and synthetic hormones are used to make some fruits and veggies look more appealing to the fads of food consumerism, i.e., those who are looking for the right size of berry, apple, or variety of lettuce. •Unstable weather, rains, flooding can cause cross contaminated runoff while droughts, wildfires and dry seasons can wipe out entire fields due to water shortages. •Mechanical mishaps and flaws in harvest blades and tillers leave exposed root crops that have fallen through the harvest. •Deeper destruction by blades that leave huge slices cleaved in flesh, inviting invasive root and pest rot to take over. •Wildlife damage.

Social activism is the new global crop.

The topic of food waste has long since been in the headlines but as numbers now reach epic proportions due mainly to viral pandemics, global warming and harmful carbon destruction, food insecurity has become a number one reality that we must all face and fight. Allowing the labor shortage in the fields to continue contributing to this problem is one way to turn a blind social eye to it. Lack of proper storage for crops, market fluctuations, uncertain economic ground holds, and improper training of employees has brought about fair turn to foul play.

Gleaning groups, food saviors and nonprofit harvesting co-ops are now gaining access to the farmland wastes and feeding the shelves, pantries, kitchens, and open hands of Americans who have had no other option but to reach out for assistance in massive droves over the past decade. Food rescue quotas are on the rise with some gleaner’s groups receiving approval under FDA standard to salvage 20 million pounds of agricultural farm produce annually. The time to stop building walls around sustainable resources is here. Help feed our communities, our environment and keep our farmlands open and in business. Now, that makes common dollars and sense.

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goldenponcho · 3 years

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A Cruise Fit for a King Chapter 7

Last Chapter | First Chapter

As soon as the keys had entered the ignition and his eardrums were blasted with a couple hundred decibels of industrial metal, Hugo knew that this would not be a leisurely drive. He braced himself against the dash as the tires ground into the earth leaving a dirt cloud behind them. A frantic grasp for a seatbelt confirmed that there wasn’t one.

Hugo caught a sideways glance from the gap between her face and her glasses as Cai smirked. From what he could see, her eyes appeared purple, but that was probably due to the reflection of the red lenses. They could have been blue, maybe light brown.

She turned to look directly at him and yelled something he could hear, but couldn’t make sense of.

“WHAT?!” he cupped a hand around his ear but had to return it to brace himself against the dash again as the truck plowed over what must have been a full size log.

She laughed, which he could hear even over the cacophony through the radio before she switched the track to a much mellower slow jazz, “Sorry! I forget most other mutes hate loud music. So! How’d you wind up in the middle of the ocean? I didn’t think most primates were particularly fond of water.”

“This one certainly isn’t,” he slowly lowered his hands from the dash as Cai seemed to be driving a little more cautiously, “It’s a rather long story, though.”

“Right…you’ll probably wanna rest before getting into all that. OH!” Cai reached around to rummage through a dirt stained cooler in the back seat before handing him a thermos. “This should have a pH a little more to your liking.”

Yellow eyes bulged as Hugo took it and fumbled with the cap, splashing some of the cold water out as he downed it in seconds.

“Woah! Slow down, Speed Racer! You’ll make yourself vom doing that!”

Hugo calmed his gasping breath, leaning back against the seat with closed eyes and taking a moment to enjoy the last of the cool fluid running down his throat. It was several seconds before he felt eyes on him and reopened his to see Cai staring with a grin. He quickly righted himself and wiped the dribbled water from his beard.

“There should be one more in there I think…if you want it.”

Hugo nodded vigorously, “Yes, please,” and turned to dig through half melted ice to find another thermos.

“And slow your roll!” she chortled, “I don’t want puke on the upholstery!”

He had been about to down this one the same as the last but decided she was probably right and attempted to pace himself. As he took small sips, the markings on Cai’s exposed leg caught his eye. Jagged stripes and irregular spots tapered from beneath her open cloak nearly to her knee. He had pointed them out before but hadn’t had the time to really consider why a mandrill might have such markings. Perhaps the mutagen that changed her ancestors was a bit different than the one used on him in the burrow lab. Or maybe it could have to do with cross breeding between similar mutes…

“There’s plenty more water at home if you need it.”

He was shaken from his musings, and felt his face grow hot, wondering if she had caught him staring.

“Stuff to eat too. We’ll be there in a second; it’s just up the road here.”

Hugo glanced out the window as they came through the trees and onto an actual paved road. This was starting to look a bit more like some areas of Las Vistas; old, overgrown buildings, sagging power lines, all the remnants of a long gone civilization.

“You said you live alone?”

Cai shrugged, “Sort of…”

Hugo was about to ask what she meant by that before she pulled the truck over into a large parking lot. In front of them was a large stone building, probably almost the size of his palace, covered in the usual greenery and flora that had consumed most man made structures. A couple of trees stuck up from the roof, large, but practically saplings compared to what the full height of a mutated tree would eventually become. An eroded, engraved stone face next to the entrance read “Halemaumau Public Library”.

“You live here? Alone?”

“I know! Pretty lucky…” She shifted into park and turned off the truck, opening the door to get out.

Hugo followed, taking in the scenery. In front of the entrance was what must have once been a fountain, now just a sheet of orange and blue stained glass that had been shattered at the top standing in the middle of a large basin with stair-stepped, roughly cubbed out rocks around it. As they rounded the other side, the glass glowed as the sun shown through from the other side.

That was when he heard stomping.

“Op!” Cai gave a nod, “Here comes my security system.”

As the stomping grew louder, it soon grew faster, and from around the corner of the library, a blue, triangular head appeared, with four bulging, golden eyes.

“Gertie!”

Slitted pupils darted from Cai to Hugo, and he felt the fur stand up along his back as the mega mute’s head rose up on an impossibly long neck to open its mouth into a rattling hiss.

“It’s ok, Gertie; he’s with me!”

The giant gecko seemed satisfied with her response and lowered its head again before licking all four eyes at once with four separate tongues. Hugo stopped himself from jumping when Cai nudged his shoulder with hers, motioning to follow her to the massive double doors.

The blue glass doors were fogged, further blurring the inside, and when Cai opened one, a warm vapor escaped. Hugo’s eyes widened as they were both covered in a coating of condensation. He shook his mane, only for it to floof out into even more of a disheveled mess, which Cai politely pretended not to notice as she stepped ahead of him into the library.

The inside was a veritable rain forest. Tropical plants and trees had completely overtaken the empty shelves, and the front desk was buried under the roots of one of the trees that sprouted up into the ceiling. He also thought he heard the sound of moving water.

“Pretty nifty, idn’t it?”

“Yes, NIFTY…” Hugo shook his head again, droplets of water scattering from wildly frizzing fur, “…and WET…”

Cai smirked and motioned for him to continue around the tree with her, “Don’t worry, the other rooms aren’t nearly as humid.”

Empty shelves littered the expansive room, many toppled like dominoes and some shattered and disassembled. Some had been used to build platforms to the upper level next to a demolished staircase.

As they rounded the debris, the whole floor along the back side of the building was hollowed out to make room for a stream to flow through from outside. And around it were five more mega mutes all acknowledging their presence but seeming to mind their own business: an eight limbed sea turtle; two multi-eyed and horned chameleons; a bat with four wings and two mouths, one on top of the other; and a six winged, four legged macaw.

“That’s Morla, Thing 1 and Thing 2, King Gidora, and Edgar,” she pointed them out in order.

There was a discontented grunt followed by a yelp from Edgar before he flew to perch on the ledge of the second floor, and Hugo gasped. A perfectly average, completely normal sized walrus lumbered forward to take his place.

“Aaand Lil’ Tubersteins got here a couple weeks ago,” Cai seemed a little uneasy at the comparatively small animal, “No one messes with Lil’ Tubersteins. He’s got some serious inner demons he’s working out, I think.”

Hugo took a sudden step to stand next to Cai, “WHERE did you find that?”

Cai shrugged, “He found US. That’s how any mute ends up here. He must have swam upstream from the ocean. I guess there ARE a few non-mute animals left out there…”

Hugo shook his head, “Not ones that weren’t mutes before…”

If Cai hadn’t still been wearing her sunglasses, he would have seen her eyes widen, “That’s sinister and off-putting… It sounds like you’ve got experience.”

“More than I’d like to have…” he trailed off as he couldn’t muffle a yawn.

“You can tell me about it after nap time…” She placed a hand on his shoulder and led him toward the makeshift staircase, “I’ll show you where you can sleep.”

#kipo #kipo and the age of wonderbeasts #kataow #scarlemagne #hugo oak #credit for the name lil Tubersteins goes to ava ryan from vine

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faqblog89 · 3 years

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bread-elf · 4 years

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DWC 2020 - Day 21

Judgement

Warlords of Draenor

Deacon Hayward, a Kul'tiran man with dirty blonde hair and a gruff beard to match, sat at his usual table at the Pig and Whistle tavern. Drinking ale, flirting with the waitress, he sat upstairs as he waited for his usual contacts to come for their goods. Conducting a business in 'less than savory' deals he found Old Town the best place to cover his tracks, already littered with criminals that took all the attention of the Guards of Stormwind. A simple sailor only in Stormwind every few months, visiting his favorite eatery, though the ale tasted like piss.

The door to the tavern opens downstairs, and where Deacon sits he has a view of who comes in and out. Expecting it to be one of his contacts, but it turns out to be one he hadn't prepared on meeting this trip around, having seen her last time. Anxiety starts to swell, did he forget something? He had seen this Kaldorei get in a few scraps at the pub, beating people to a pulp with the fury worse than a sea wife.

As the Kaldorei comes closer he leans back in his seat, putting on his most charming smile to dissuade her, even though he had caught on that it just annoys her more than anything. Yet he sometimes wondered if she had a fondness of being annoyed. “Oi there, lassy!” Reaching up and running a hand through his hair as she comes closer, that hair that reminded him of the ocean waves sticking out like a sore thumb. “I- don’ think we wus supposed ta meet so soon…” As she stands by the table his smile falters, seeing blisters on her long ears and a X marked on the cheek of her pretty face. Her anger filled stare is the same as usual, yet the scars make it all the more intense. “Ope, lass, ya’ uh… Got in a bit o’ a scruff, eh?” “You have a connection to mercenaries, don’t you?” Jiroki asks as she leers down at the man, drawing a few eyes their way at her imposing nature. Deacon glances around a little wary, uncomfortable with the looks. “Lass, heheh, you know I’m just a simple sailor.” Putting emphasis on his words. “Guess I know a few sellswords…” Jiroki slams her hands on the table, causing Deacon to jump in his chair. “Cut the shit.” She hisses quietly. “I’m on a hunt. I need people to go with me, people with a backbone, hunters that can kill their mark. You’re going to bring these people to me. She will die the next I see her.” “Uh-” Deacon is a bit at a loss for words. But given how adamant and in his face she is, he starts to think. “Ya’ know I don’ run a charity here. Ya’ gonna needa-” A bag of coins lands on the table with a heavy thunk, Jiroki staring down at the Kul’tiran as he looks at it in shock. It’s a hefty back, and when he peaks inside he sees it filled entirely with gold coins. “I don’t care the price.” Jiroki straightens. “And I don’t care where you find them; they could be murderers for all I care.” Deacon purses his lips, giving a little bit of an innocent glance around before shrugging his shoulders. “Well iffin that’s wot the lady wants…” Reaching over and sliding the bag of gold towards him. “I’ll get ya’ a team.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jiroki could feel the new scar on her cheek itch as she stared at the cottage in the distance, hidden in the hills. It looked like such a quaint place, yet lurking inside is the woman whose blood she craved to spill. Beside her she could feel the cold presence of the Death Knight. A human woman, only going by the name of Jolean, though she never spoke. Instead her icy gaze pierced towards the college, waiting like a hound to be commanded. “Michael is returning.” A night elf, Moonshadow, says. Once a druid, relatively young with his deep blue hair pulled back into a bun. He had left their people years ago, using unorthodox means in their practice that were a disgrace. If A’llaen was still alive, they’d probably be around the same age. The Worgen, Michael Thyme, comes back with his pack of bloodhounds. They had scouted around the perimeter, investigating a suspicion Jiroki had. “Ya’ wer right.” Michael sniffs, his canine tongue coming out and licking along his snout. “She got some sort o’ workshop in dem hills. Ya’ want me ta rig dem explosives I brought?” “Yes.” Jiroki says firmly. “I’ll distract her. She’s probably expecting me.” Her fingers grip around the handle of her umbra crescent. She had last donned this weapon when still with the Watchers of Hyjal. But for this hunt she needed her best. Michael left to go get his explosives ready; she needed to destroy Ellie’s workshop, where she constructed the reapers she experimented with, like the ones that had killed her regiment and Gelt and Eilynne. While he prepared that, she would instigate the hunt, accompanied by Moonshadow and Jolean. Jiroki boldly walks up to the door. Uncaring of any pleasantries or surprised reactions, she brings her foot up and kicks open the door, the wooden knob splintering as it's forced open. Ellie looks over in alarm, at a work bench as she tinkered with some mechanisms. Her strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail as some oil streaked her cheek. The human has little time to react as the Kaldorei suddenly rushes in like a bat out of hell, bringing up her umbra crescent to slice it down. It meets with wood as the warlock Blinks herself away, a former mage before she went down a different path in life. She quickly rushes for the broken door, intent on making a mistake. A chill is felt down to the core as Jolean waits right outside, a broad sword in hand as she swipes it towards Ellie. The warlock manages to move just in time, but Jolean raises a hand and sends out a shadow grip, bringing the warlock back to her and cleave unto her broadsword. Ellie manages to cast a shield just in time to protect herself from it, immediately casting her own shadow bolts. Jolean raises her arms up and takes a few steps back, giving Ellie a moment to cast a raining demon bolt from the sky. Roots start to wrap around Ellie’s feet, causing her to struggle and spot the druid not far off from the cottage. His gaze focused on her as the roots begin to slowly crawl up her legs, squeezing hard. “I’m impressed Jiroki!” A crazed smile on her lips. “You’ve found me! I guess this means you want to play more games?!” Fishing into her pockets for something. “Stop her!” Jiroki shouts from the doorway of the cottage, moving with quick speed to try and get to her, but she isn’t fast enough. Having some sort of mechanism in her pocket Ellie pushes a button. The ground trembles, and from various spots mechanized reapers pull themselves out of the ground, tearing it up and dirt flies. Moonshadow starts to try and tangle the reapers with more roots, but they were coming quickly and he could only snag a few. Ellie burns the roots on her form, uncaring if the fel flames singe her clothes, invigorated by the hunt. She begins to cast some more and summons a large demon by her side, one with a long tail and four arms, brandishing swords. Jolean comes in to intercept the demon specifically, an apathetic look on the Death Knight’s features the whole time. Jiroki’s path is blocked by reapers, trying to weave around them but they are persistent. In frustration she lets out a yell as she lets the arcane erupt from her form, trying to push the reapers back and get Ellie in her sights. When a path is clear Jiroki Blinks through as well, swiping with her crescent and cleaving a slice into the woman. She yelps and moves back, throwing fire in Jiroki’s face to faze her. Ellie runs and Jiroki pursues, but more reapers get in her way. The sound of barking can be heard, and Michael’s pack returns as the bloodhounds come in full force. Michael runs among them on all fours, leaping for a reaper and tearing through its harvester clothing to get to its inner core. His hounds leap up and grab hold of the reaper with their maws, taking it down before they rush the next one. The hounds and Michael now helping take down the reapers it gives Jiroki a better opportunity to get to Ellie. Moonshadow had let his roots overrun the area, now able to capture more reapers and keep them in place. Jiroki catches up to her hunt, swiping at her legs. Ellie falls, Jiroki cutting more off than intended, but that didn’t matter. Reaching down Jiroki roughly flips Ellie onto her back, genuine fear in the eyes of the human. But even in this state she has the audacity to smirk, letting out a scoff. “How does it-” Ellie’s words are cut short as Jiroki slams her umbra crescent down onto the woman’s neck, beheading her and letting the blood spill. Ellie’s face contorts in shock and pain, the anger deep in her eyes, and then stays just like that. Jiroki takes a long, hard look, making sure to sink her crescent deep into the ground. In the background she can hear the other reapers being dismantled, Jolean doing her work now that the demon had been desummoned. After a moment she pulls back, taking the crescent out of the ground, and in a gruesome act of anger kicks the head of Ellie with all her strength, sending it far. “Jolean, Moonshadow, search the place for a Soulstone!” Turning to see them all watching her. They kept their comments to themselves, only here for the pay. “I don’t want to see her coming back, ever! Michael!” Turning to the worgen now, snapping her fingers at the corpse. “You know what to do.” Jolean and Moonshadow leave to go investigate the cottage, and later the workshop hidden in the mountains that Michael rigged with explosives. Michael sends his bloodhounds at the corpse, the ravenous dogs tearing apart the flesh. If Ellie did have a Soulstone, she wouldn’t be able to use her old body. Stepping away Jiroki clenches and unclenches her fists, a brittling rage through her as she gripped her crescent glaive. The hunt is done. Ellie is dead. If there’s a Soulstone it will be found, and it will be destroyed. But Jiroki still felt this bitter hatred for what’s been lost. Jiroki sits down on the grass. Nearby Ellie’s head lay on its side, facing away from her, that strawberry blonde hair messy with dirt and blood. Ellie’s judgement has been done, but Jiroki still craved revenge. A hand raises up to rub over her face, taking some deep breaths, trying to coax down the years upon years of anger. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jiroki sat with Sasil at a small outdoor table, the two enjoying an evening in Stormwind in Cathedral Square. They just had a pleasant meal and Sasil read the Stormwind Daily, Jiroki’s thoughts elsewhere as she looked down at a ring on her finger. “Well, it seems the efforts in Draenor are making progress.” Sasil comments while reading over the paper. “You know my Star I been meaning to share, some of my old colleagues have asked if I wanted to go with them on an expedition out there. There is a lot of activity with the Highmaul, it’s quite interesting.” “Hm…” Jiroki thumbed over the ring on her finger, Sasil having asked her hand in marriage a few weeks ago. It had been months since her hunt, and she had lost her will to do much. But Sasil brought her great comfort, and she cared for him. Gelt often passed by in her mind, still in grief, but there’s hope in the future. Sasil glances to her over the top of the paper, then begins to fold it up. “You’re always… More than welcome to join me, if you wish.” He offers. “A little excursion to a different world sounds fun, no?” “I’ve been thinking…” Jiroki traces her finger over the table they sat at, visualizing the shape of a shield. “I might start a company.” “Oh?” Sasil tilts his head curiously. “Why I- that sounds marvelous! What sort were you thinking?” “Mercenaries…” Leaning back in her chair and taking a look out towards the square, watching the people pass by. “I can’t sit still, at least not for long. And I’m tired of taking orders from others.” “Well, well, a lot of us have been there.” Sasil chuckles lightly. “I suppose I shouldn’t be so surprised to hear you’re interested in mercenaries, you’d be the best one, my Star. If that is what you wish, you have my support.” “Hm…” Jiroki hums in agreement, still lost in her thoughts. The faces of the dead pass by her mind, the decisions led by people in positions of power that led to some of those deaths. Jiroki can do better. “How does the Greyshields sound?” (( @daily-writing-challenge )) (( Insight to some IC inspiration to the formation of the Greyshields!))

#stories

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cienie-isengardu · 4 years

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Why do you think Jango Fett hired Dred Priest and Isabet Reau, even tho they were suspected death watch sympathizers? I cant imagine the Commandos they trained would be happy to be serving under jedi...

Before I will talk about Priest and Reau, I think is worth to point that no Mandalorian training commandos was overly fond of Jedi or Republic. Not all commandos / ARC liked to work with Jedi, some were disappointed by their force-sensitive commanders, but I doubt Dred and Isabet personal hate/dislike, even if passed down to their trainees, would make soldiers disobey the orders coming from Jedi. Frankly, commandos get along & work the best with their own brothers, but that is just the way they were raised. Personal feelings will not get in the way, they are too professional for that.

As for the major ask, here we go:

The Imperial Commando: 501’st raised this topic in one of talk between Ordo and Mij Gilamar:

“What was Jango doing recruiting them? He had more reason to hate the Death Watch than anybody.”

“Priest and Reau weren’t exactly card-carrying members. Jango thought they were all talk. He only cared about results.”

But I think the matter was more complicated than that.

Jango Fett hired one hundred people - the best soldiers, tacticians, sappers, communicators, survival experts - to train future Republic Commandos, but managed to get only 75 Mandalorians. Due to Jango Fett: Open Season comics, we know that many friends / associates / allies of Jango were interrogated - and most likely killed afterwards, like Silas - by Dooku during his “research” about Fett’s past, so the limited number of people to choose from influenced the decision to some degree.

We know little about Isabet, but Dred was considered as a good (albeit idiot) soldier, so he met the requirements.

Then again, even with limited choices, Fett still didn’t want to hire Kal Skirata and he did so only because Walon Vau insisted. But Vau hated Death Watch above everything else, and I don’t think he would agree to work for Fett and/or get along with Priest and Reau, if they were true Death Watch sympathizers back then.

“How do you lie to a Jedi Master?” Laseema asked. “Without him sensing it, that is?”

“I didn’t,” said Vau. “I said I’d tell him if I found Kal doing anything to help the enemy. The minute that this little shabuire opens a comlink to any former Death Watch personnel, I shall gladly turn him in.”

Skirata paused for a moment, then managed to laugh. “Do I know any?”

“No, but they’re the only group I’d really call my enemy. So I didn’t lie, and I was genuinely emotional enough for him to believe what his Force senses told him he wanted to believe.” [Order 66]

In this short passage, Vau says that Kal Skirata does not know any former members of Death Watch, so during the conflict between DW and True Mandalorians, Reau and Priest weren’t part of enemy group. So, if Jango knew them (otherwise, how he could judge if their skills are good enough to train future commandos?), they most likely were his former allies / subordinates or some freelancers whom he met over the years, right?

Between Order 66 and 501’st, the biggest hater of Dred and Isabet is Mij Gilamar and I think his hate is only partially fueled by their Death Watch-like ideology. He is the one to say “`They had the makings of the Death Watch in them, those two. Him and that perverted secret fight club, her and that let’s-conquer-the-galaxy-again osik”. Alongside him, Ordo and Skirata were the most vocal about those two Mandalorians. Interesting, Walon Vau - for whom Death Watch is trigger to extreme hatred - did not despite them openly, at least until he saw DW badge on their armors. Then, he was all okay with killing them.

Here is the thing: was Dred and Isabet truly Death Watch sympathizers back on Kamino, or did their ideological thinking was just additional reason why Mij hated them both? Because we know he “loathed them with passion” and being “marooned indefinitely on Kamino with folks you hated on sight and nowhere to escape them” for sure did not help the situation.

Frankly, Mij and Dred is not the first duo that fought and hated each other guts. Walon Vau, when introduced, also was seen as the psycho, cruel, bad Mandalorian; an image fueled by Skirata’s, Ordo’s and Atin’s POV yet with passing time, perception of his character has changed. So, can we be sure that Dred and Isabet were so awful? Especially since Vau and Fett could tolerate their sentiments, even if that sounded a lot like Death Watch’s ideology?

This leads me to two conclusion.

The Priest and Reau’s ideology was not really unique only to Death Watch. They wanted A) Mandalore to be great empire again, B) Mandalorian people to serve their own interest rather than fighting for foreign governments and strangers. Most likely many other Mandalorians were bitter about their past and current situation. If we take Legends and New Canon into account, this kind of sentiment actually makes sense. Death Watch may take that into extreme, but even people like Skirata - or his just-adjusting to Mandalorian life daughter - from time to time were thinking that Mandalorians shouldn’t fight for aruetii (foreigners) and doing their dirty jobs.

“I’m not arguing,” Gilamar said. “Just making it clear that if I run into Dred and he starts on that bring-back-the-good-old-days garbage, I’ll gut him. And his crazy girlfriend.”

“No reason to run into him,” Ordo said. “Unless you’re in Keldabe.”

“Don’t you think it’s time we started fighting for our own interests?” Ruu took the mug out of her father’s hand and peered into it as if checking up on him. “I’m not saying this guy’s right, but being at every aruetii’s beck and call and doing the dying for them doesn’t sound smart to me. Look at this world. It’s dirt-poor. That’s not much to show for the lives we’ve spent on shoring up other governments.”

“Good point,” Vau said. “You’re definitely a Skirata.”

That was an odd thing for Vau to say, seeing as no Mando cared much about biological parentage. It was a culture of adoption and blurred lines between offspring and in-laws.

He just means she says the same things as Kal'buir. That’s all.

If Skirata can talk/think how Mandalorians shouldn’t kill each other for foreigners’ money, like in True Colors:

Mandalorians ended up killing one another for all kinds of reasons, personal and incidental. It still didn’t make it right. The covert ops troopers sent after Sull, now these strangers-the thought of nek dogs came back to him, dog set on dog for sport, or just a killing machine to do the master’s bidding. Skirata felt it was time Mando'ade stopped being everyone’s nek.

then maybe the idea of “coming back to roots” and creating one mighty army is not so controversial? I mean, Jaster Mereel saw Mandalorians as just well-paid mercenaries, yet by leading (at least three) military units of well trained warriors he had better bargaining position to pick up missions, clients and how much money should be paid than a lone mandalorian freelancer could have. I think that last decade or so before the Clone Wars was time in which “national movements” happened in various mandalorian groups.

We may only wonder how much Priest and Reau’s ideology changed over the years, when they all were stuck on Kamino training little kids to fight for Republic/Jedi Order that no Mandalorian was overly fond of.

There is also the little passage in Bounty Hunter Code, in which Jango commented that the Death Watch manifesto does not sound like Tor Vizsla (that Fett considered just a thug), the original leader of the group. But is something that Priest or Reau could said.

Jango could not be aware of how deep they felt about the whole “great mandalorian empire”, but either, like 501’st said, he thought they were all talk or knew, but did not care.

What brings me to the second point. Jango changed a lot between Jaster Mereel’s death and agreeing to be DNA donor for Great Army of Republic. Especially after Galidraan. He agreed to work for Dooku, because the man promised to destroy Jedi Order. And as much as Jango hated Death Watch, ultimately he hated Jedi even more. So, he could be as well aware that Priest and Reau were at heart Death Watch sympathizers, but did not care. He needed the best soldiers to train an army to eliminate Jedi - the ultimately enemy of all Mandalorians - once and for good.

“Now do you see? Do you?“ Vau hissed the sibilant like escaping steam. Mird cowered on the floor, whining softly. “I’m sick to death of your sentimental twaddle about Jango betraying us by letting Kamino use his genes. He did it to stop the Jedi. He did it to create an army strong enough to bring them down. You drone on about the injustice of unelected elites, my little working-class hero-well, now they’re gone. Yes, it cost our boys’ lives, but the Jedi are gone, gone, gone. And they won’t be killing Mandalorians again, not for a long time. Maybe never.”

And here comes my, most likely, unpopular opinion: I don’t think Fett cared much for the ideology. He hated Vizsla and DW, because they killed his family and mentor. He lead True Mandalorians because he cared for Jaster Mereel and tried his best to carry on his legacy. But in the end, somehow, in some ironic way, Jango adapted Tor Vizsla’s ruthless determination to achieve his goal. If to destroy Jedi Order he needed to sacrifice milions of his own clones and deal with two Death Watch sympathizers, so be it.

#star wars #jango fett #dred priest #isabet reau #death watch #walon vau #mij gilamar #kal skirata #republic commando #my replies #sorry for the rant i don't have many occassion to talk about DW #thank you for ask!#in short i doubt jango cared about their ideology #he wanted job be done #and by job i mean destruction of jedi order

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