#this is made from an old crime and punishment cover i found in a box :))

[hi-im-just-a-fan-here]

I tried smth new! This is my absolute favourite page in my sketchbook

#sketchbook #doodles #sun and moon #this is made from an old crime and punishment cover i found in a box :)) #stars #sketchbook tour #sketch #pencil sketch #aesthetic

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

Too late | Dazai x reader |

Too late | Mafia Dazai / dazai x fem!reader |

( A very shitty attempt at a song-fic. )

Warnings- toxic relationship (minor mentions of abuse?), death

A brunette sat on the cement. The tan folds of his coat fluttering out behind him. The wind brushed his hair from his face, it stung his eyes and brushed his skin with bitter cold air. His fingers dripped the brightest shade of crimson. His eyes had dilated and shook with shock and fear. The skin his hands desperately held, already losing its warmth. Lips stained the color, as well as the outfit that resembled his own. Those blood-stained lips coughed final words before letting go. How, how had this happened? Why had he never predicted this? Why would you ever do this?

He knew those answers like he knew his own crimes. After all, how could he forget? He’d been the reason you fell, he’d only denied it for years.

The sun fell softly along the stone. A boy, no older than 15, walked along the stone edge of a bridge. His brown locks flying within the wind whilst he adjusted the bandage over his left eye. He paid no mind to you, even as you walked behind him. Your feet carried you on the safer ground, next to the edge. It was common to find the two of them like this. You were always with him, whenever you could be at least. He never seemed to notice you were there; You didn’t mind it though. The rare moments where he did suddenly ask you questions were enough. Rushing to close the distance between you and him, you caught a glance of his eyes darted to the side. He was looking at you, the single eye that showed seemed puzzled, before he parted his lips to talk to you; His arms opened at the same time. Skipping around steps, he smiled, “Hey, why are you still following me, woman? Don’t you have a better hobby than stalking me?” so he did notice you at times.

Flustered you froze before chuckling with a light hum. “No, not really Dazai-san. I think you're interesting! You're the only one I can't read.” you were referring to your ability. It wasn’t much, so you weren't too high up in the ranks. You could read thoughts, see their feelings in the form of aura, and manipulate that aura. So far, you could make people freeze up and lose themself in an overdose of emotions. Also known as individual illusions created by their auras; things only they could see. It was hard to believe you were even in the mafia. Your bubbly appearance and lack of interest in killing made you look harmless. You never killed, but when you worked with another they sure had an opening to kill.

Dazai leaned down so he leveled with you. “I wonder, have you ever thought of using that ability to induce such outrageous depression, one acts on it?” blushing you took several steps back shaking your head.

“N-no, sir! I d-don’t think I could do that. Well, if Dazai-san really wanted me to, I-I could try it for him!” What were you saying? Knowing this demon prodigy, you’d probably end up not meeting the expectation and ending up punished. Though, would that be so bad?

He puffed his cheeks out, jumping from the edge to land in front of you. With a half-smile, he flicked your forehead. “You keep doing the opposite of what I predict. I really can’t get a read on you.” turning away you covered your face.

“I-is that a compliment?” you mumbled, looking through your fingers. He shrugged, jumping back to the ledge. His eyes lost their glimmer as he looked down. He seemed to be judging the distance; With a heavy sigh, he looked back to the sky.

“If only this was a little higher. I think falling into the water and dying right away, without the pain of falling to the ground, would be okay. I’d drown unconscious, how peaceful that would be.” you didn’t respond as he turned and began walking again.

~

Year after year you walked by his side, growing with him. Slowly that bubbly gaze began to fade ever so slightly. The fun-filled times like the day on the bridge no longer existed.

My head is haunting me and my heart feels like a ghost

Standing next to the demon prodigy you stretched out your hand with a sigh. “Ability: vortex of emotions.” from the shadows you worked alongside him. The enemy's hands reached their head. A perching scream echoing as they turned their gun to themselves. Looking to the side your eyes met the brunettes; They were colder than they were a year ago. Sighing, he raised his pistol and shot. He pushed past you, and you followed numbly.

I need to feel something, 'cause I'm still so far from home

Entering the box he called his home, his hands grabbed your waist pulling you towards him. His fingers lifting your chin. The flutter of your heart pounded against your chest, the closer his face came to yours. “You really should stop following me everywhere. If you won’t at least try to kill.”

Cross your heart and hope to die. Promise me you'll never leave my side

Nodding as he released you, he sat at his desk. “Mori won’t be happy that we clocked out so early.” he leaned back groaning. “Found a new suicide method? I don’t want to deal with his annoying voice tomorrow!” his older persona slipped through. The light in his eyes spread before it disappeared with your silence. Yet despite that, there was a caring hint to his posture. The way his hands moved softly, how he traced your bow. How he exhaled with a sigh when you closed the door

Show me what I can't see when the spark in your eyes is gone

~

Another year went by with a soft ease. You stood in Mori's office, a blank expression on your face. You were sure you were dead. Messing up like this, letting somebody get away. You were shaking, unsure why your breaths still rang. The doors opened to the brunette mafioso. Dressed in all black, a short ginger walked at his side. The way your emotions suddenly changed was unnoticed by everybody but Dazai. His eyes set in glares as you looked away. Your heart raced, why was it you still felt like this? He treated you as a pawn, yet you still ached to kiss him. Mori blamed your failure on Dazai’s lack of discipline with you. “I’ve been more than lenient with how she follows you around. If this happens again, it will be you who pays the price Dazai.'' Why did this have to happen in front of the ginger? His eyes looked at you with sympathy. It was weird to see such a thing. Dazai rolled his eyes stepping closer to the ginger as his eyes darted to you. Puffing your cheeks out you looked away.

Once you were in his office, he practically pulled you by the ear. Pushing you to the floor with his frustration. “I don’t understand why I keep you around! All you seem to do is put me in situations that bore me to death!”

You've got me on my knees I'm your one man cult

You looked up with begging eyes. “Please, I’m sorry Dazai-san! Please forgive me! I’ll do better! Please don’t leave me.” he was the first person to ever make you feel real emotions. Fear, excitement, lust, love, heartache, despair. He gave it all to you.

Cross my heart and hope to die Promise you I'll never leave your side

It was an unexpected look, an unexpected plea. His eyes showed excitement. “There, there’s the reason! You can’t stop doing the opposite of my expectations, every time I think you’ll do something, you manage to shock me, even in this kind of situation! I wonder, would you commit suicide if I died? It would be so unexpected!” his voice was full of wonder as he lifted your chin using the front of his foot.

Looking at him he smirked. He'd known, all along, about your feelings. He teased you all the time, but maybe he could finally get an expected reaction from you. It would be possible to toy with you. Maybe then he’d be satisfied with you. “Would you ever be only mine? Something only for my eyes?” with wide eyes you nodded.

Cause I'm telling you you're all I need I promise you you're all I see

With a smile, you brought your hands to press against your chest. With a desperate smile, your eyes filled with that childish light from when you were 15. “Even if I'm only being used for your satisfaction, it would be all I need! You're the only one for me." Once more he was shocked by the response. Nearly losing the balance he had, his hand reached to his face a soft snicker leaving his lips.

“You’re utterly helpless.” he hummed, removing his foot from under your chin. “Come here darling~” he was certainly stressed today. A little fun wouldn’t hurt, right? “Tell me you’ll never leave.” he hummed holding your chin within his fingers. The blush on your cheeks darkening in your complexion.

'Cause I'm telling you you're all I need I'll never leave

His lips met yours. Shivering you closed your eyes, letting a tear fall. You wished he truly loved you back.

~

Another year passed, you stayed by him no matter what he did. He was crueler than ever. He often left you at night to go hang out in a bar. Those nights were lonely but a ginger often peeped in to see you. “You look like hell.” he would always tell you how messed up you looked. “Why do you stay by him?”

The images passed by your head. The boy you fell in love with. The young 15-year-old. The one with a smile that would show itself here and there. The young boy who jokes around, the carefree one. You picture the feeling of his fingers over yours. Cold yet so warm in those years.

So you can drag me through hell If it meant I could hold your hand

“I love him.” you hummed watching the male drop a bottle of wine in your lap. He walked out leaving the gift. He knew you understood how cruel he was. He had never really pitied anybody before but you… you were something he pitied. A demon prodigy's toy, your relationship was nothing more than toxic.

I will follow you 'cause I'm under your spell And you can throw me to the flames

Sipping on the wine you drank yourself drunk. “I love him… he loves me. I love him. He loves me, I know he does. I’ve seen some softness in those harsh eyes.” you wiped the tears looking up to the ceiling. What had you gotten yourself into? Why did your heart have to play you like this?

I will follow you, I will follow you

~

He stood looking so conflicted, broken, and unsure. It wasn’t the first time you saw him without the bandages but it was the first time your dull lifeless eyes saw him this vulnerable. “Figures, you do follow me everywhere.” his voice was blank of anything; You could no longer read his voice.

Come sink into me and let me breathe you in

It was true, you needed him, so of course you followed him everywhere. “Go, we’re done! I’m not going back! This is all Mori's fault! He’d be alive if it weren't for inviting that damn organization here!” he was upset, yet he seemed so confused. Like a child, he had no grip on what he was feeling. Was he angry, grieving, sad? He couldn’t tell.

You ran to him wrapping arms around him. “I will go with you! I will follow you!”

I'll be your gravity, you be my oxygen.

You'd hold him down during this pain. You’d help him achieve whatever it was that he needed. “Even if it is death, I will not leave.”

So dig two graves 'cause when you die I swear I'll be leaving by your side

With a soft sigh, he pushed you away. “That changes nothing, follow if you have to but I never loved you.” you backed away smiling you curtsied.

“I know Dazai, I know you never did and never could. You are a demon prodigy, one that can’t understand his own feelings. I wish I could help, but your gift cancels mine out.” your voice was sweet as honey, but he shed you no more glances as he walked away. Following him, you sighed.

~

Two years later your empty eyes sat at an agency desk, you'd bought an outfit to match his. Those feelings refused to leave you even after all this time. They surged more than ever. He was like his 15-year-old self again, different but at least there was life in his eyes. He laughed and flirted just as he did those years ago.

So you can drag me through hell If it meant I could hold your hand

You looked to the cafe waitress’s hand, then your own. How you wished to be her. You stood up, walking out and to the office of the agency, sitting in your chair, Kyouka walked up to you. She once had your eyes. Dull, lifeless, broken, but then Atsushi seemed to save her. “Do you love him?” she asked tilting her head as you looked from your phone to her, you sighed.

“Yes, but I'll suffer for life over this. I had my chance and now it’s gone.”

I will follow you 'cause I'm under your spell

She set down a small piece of paper. “I found this.'' She tried to give you a smile that wasn’t pity. They often asked why you always looked so disturbed. Maybe it was the fact you were really all alone now?

And you can throw me to the flames

A tear dropped from your eye. Something, a feeling you hadn’t had in so long. It was worth it, these empty dull years. “A tossed away letter to apologize.” you held it to your chest.

~

I will follow you so you can drag me through hell If it meant I could hold your hand

You found yourself alone on a mission. This was assigned to both you and Dazai, but he had other things he wanted to be doing. Neither of you knew how dangerous this was. He had not batted an eye at this mission. It was simple, a simple recovery mission. A ransom kidnapping, simple in and out. You could handle it without being seen. You ached for the warmth of his hand. A little light lifted your eyes as you stepped into the building.

When his fingers opened his phone accepting the call, he nearly fell over dead. The mission you were attending wasn’t a retrieval; It was a set-up. Despite how careful he'd been, somebody had found out about you. More so his past with you. His mind was too focused on you to think of who let it slip.

I will follow you 'cause I'm under your spell And you can throw me to the flames

Dazai pushed past the doors too late. This was his fault, all of this. The loss of your true self.

I will follow you, I will follow you I will follow you, I will follow you

You'd always said you would follow him. It was always like that. He had taken years to figure out why he never ignored or let you go. He was selfish, he had grown attached. Ango and Oda had even offered the thought. The thought that, maybe in this heart; swallowed by black, he loved you.

It was his turn to feel desperate as he dropped down. The blood flowing from your stomach in spurts.

So you can drag me through hell If it meant I could hold your hand

He held your hand in his while also trying to keep the bleeding down. “I’ll get help! Just hang on, we just need Yosano!” it was the first time your heart slowed like this; The first time you could read him like a book.

I will follow you 'cause I'm under your spell And you can throw me to the flames

Your hand was growing cold, your breathing staggered. You looked to be in so much pain. “No, I won't be that long. You should leave, you don’t love me so…” your voice trailed off as your head tilted to look at his cheeks. Tears… there were tears.

He shook his head pressing your hand to his forehead. “I will follow you.”

Your eyes widened as a light chuckle left your lips, “I will follow you.” you hummed, as the crimson left your lips. He was forced to watch you die in his arms. There was one final look on your face. A giant smile, a real smile on your lips. “I love you Osa…” then, you were gone.

Another, another friend in his arms, dead. No, you are more than a friend. “I… I love you.” he’d never said those words, and it didn’t matter now. There was no going back. He held you to him, cold and motionless.

Somebody from the mafia had done this. Somebody would probably be Mori… he’d dropped this low before, it wouldn’t shock him if he were trying to drive Dazai to murder again; To get him kicked from the light.

For you, for the wish left by Oda, he wouldn’t let himself fall that low. He’d be strong.

#bsd #bsd x reader #bsd song-fic #really shiity attempt at a song fic #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #dazai x reader angst #dazai angst #reader x dazai angst #dazai x you #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader song-fic #first attempt at a song-fic #this kinda sucks

[bluefirewrites]

Crime Scene Photographer and Matchmaker- Christmas Edition?

Inspiration won’t leave me be while I’m trying to work on finals...

But like what if... what if... I did a Christmas themed sequel to Ray Molina: Crime Scene Photographer and Matchmaker... 

I just had a vision of Ray just chilling at home, on a day off, when he gets a call from Officer Dan.

“Hey Ray, I’m gonna need you to come to the park ASAP”

“Why? What’s going on?” He could hear voices bickering the background and Officer Dan letting out a deep sigh. 

“Let’s just say, I got something in the backseat for you... and it’s not your Christmas present...” 

The vague message is enough to have Ray rush out of the door and drive to the park until he finds Dan’s cruiser. He walks up to the vehicle, refraining from making a comment about Dan’s santa hat (part of uniform for the season), and peers in the back and glowers at what he finds. 

Or more like who he finds. 

“Luke!” 

The boy smiles weakly, “Hey...” 

He could not believe his daughter’s boyfriend managed to get himself in the backseat of a cop car. Again.

But that’s not all. 

“Alex? Reggie?” 

Luke is flanked by his two friends, who also look equally ashamed. But at least Reggie had barely enough cheer to greet him in return. 

“I can’t believe this!” He points at Luke “You promised!” 

The boy opens his mouth but Ray cuts him off, directing his attention to the other two, “And both of you were supposed to keep him out of trouble.” 

“In our defense, Mr. Molina, sir,” Alex babbles, “Ray, uh, you gave us kind of an impossible task-” 

“Hey!” Luke glares at him, “You volunteered to be the getaway driver!” 

“Volunteer? More like it’s because I’m the only with a car! So of course I get roped in! At least I didn’t get the eggs-” 

“Oh you’re blaming me?” Reggie cries, “When it’s Luke’s idea?” 

“Alright enough!” 

The boys shut up immediately. 

“Are you... are you mad?” Reggie whispers which has Ray regretting raising his voice, remembering the boy’s home life. 

He sighs, “No. Just disappointed.” 

“But that’s worse!” 

“And so close to Christmas too. What happened?” 

“Well we found them-” Dan tries to step in but Ray holds up a hand. 

“I want to hear it from them,” He looks at Luke first but he’s as quiet as the night he first met him, “Well?” 

“It’s nothing,” 

“I can’t help you if you won’t tell me,” 

“Then don’t, alright! Just let Dan take us to the station and we’ll face the punishment!” 

“Luke just tell him,” Alex urges. 

Reggie nods, “He’ll understand. Like really. He so would.” 

Luke sighs, his head hanging down, refusing to look at Ray. 

“We egged Carrie Wilson’s house...” he says finally. 

Ray whips his head around, sharing a concerned look with Dan. This is serious. Trevor Wilson’s house is like a fortress, with extra security measures to keep the old rockstar’s residence protected from fans and the press. Depending on the damages, along with the trespassing, there could be charges, 

“Why would you do such a thing?” 

“...” 

“Luke,” 

“She made Julie cry today,” Reggie jumps in, “Carrie brought up stuff about her not singing, making up stuff about how Luke’s forced to date her to get out of jail, and even-” he stops short.  

“And what?” 

Alex’s features tighten, “...she said stuff about Julie’s mom.” 

Oh. 

No wonder Luke didn’t want to tell him. 

Ray kicks himself for not realizing something was up with Julie earlier, who had decided to go to Flynn’s instead of coming home today. And his heart breaks at the three boys in front of him, who are so protective over his daughter that they felt the need to defend her honor, to defend his wife- who the boys never got the chance to meet. 

He doesn’t know what to say. He’s upset that they got themselves arrested, of course. But what they did for Julie... 

“Um...” he gestures to the backseat, “Is Bobby involved in this too?” 

“How did you think we got the codes to get past the gate?” 

Ray nearly let out a laugh, “Fair enough,” 

“Well what’s going to happen to us?” 

“I need to go make a call,” 

Then Ray goes to call Trevor, who he knew from Rose’s band days, and sorts it out, after explaining the situation, why the boys felt they had to egg his house. The rockstar was pissed at first, but then after hearing Ray out, after mentioning Rose, he agrees to make arrangement with the police to let the boys go. 

After 5 minutes on the phone, Ray turns to Dan, “It’s settled.” 

“Just like that?” 

“Yup,” 

Then Dan undoes the boys’ handcuffs and Ray decides to take them home in his car, wishing Dan happy holidays as they leave. 

They make a stop at Flynn’s to pick up Julie. As they wait, Ray asks, “Does she know?” 

Luke shakes his head. 

“Let’s keep it that way. Imagine the look on her face if she found out any of you were in a cop car tonight,” 

“I know,” 

Then Julie slides into the passenger seat, smiling at her dad but is confused as to why the boys are there. 

“Oh yeah. I’ve got a special job for them at home,” Ray covers. 

Luke quirks his eyebrows in confusion. Alex and Reggie share a look. 

And that is how Ray ropes the boys into putting up the Christmas lights at their house as punishment. A difficult task and something that Ray has completely forgotten about because he’s been so busy. And just because they’re free doesn’t mean, they’re let off that easy. Ray needs to make sure they don’t do such a thing again. 

He has Alex use the ladder to hang the stuff on the roof, with Luke holding down the ladder, and Reggie is untangling the lights as they go. 

Ray stops by halfway through the decorating and offers them all hot chocolate. 

“I just want to say thank you boys. For sticking up for Julie like that,” 

“Really no problem,” Luke sips his hot chocolate, “It’s Julie. We would do anything for her.” 

“I’m glad you said that,” Then Ray slides out a box from the garage, “Because we are definitely one of those households that has a giant inflatable snowman...” 

“But-” 

Julie emerges from the house, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the box, “Yes! I love our Frosty the Snowman!” 

Luke’s protests die at the sight of his girlfriend being the happiest she’s been all day.

“We’ll get him all up and running for you, Jules,” he smiles. 

“Aww, thanks, Luke,” she gives him a quick peck on the cheek before running back inside. Once she’s gone, the boys all groan into their hot chocolates. 

Ray lifts his own cup, smiling, “Merry Christmas, niños!” 

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #juke #ray molina #crime scene photographer!ray #julie x luke #luke x julie #alex mercer #reggie peters #i did it again #i shouldn't have #but i did #dammit #i'm gonna be up all night doing hw again am i #oh well #enjoy

[mitsybubbles]

Alrighty, here’s some Enclave Remnants headcannons! This might have a little bit of an overlap with my headcannons about Little Arcade post and my ranking of the remnant’s parenting skills post lol, but this will be focused on the remnants specifically. And maybe also Arcade’s parents. Also this got a little long- oops.

Mark Gannon was a big ol’ nerd. I mean he canonically knew Latin (there’s a quote of him saying a latin phrase in front of Arcade’s character binder). He came off as a soft spoken, affable person but he was brutal when it came to his job as the leading officer in the Devil’s Brigade.

Arcade’s mom was a very witty (and also nerdy) person. She came off as lively, elegant but incredibly cunning. She used to be a scientist in the Enclave. Something with either genetics or mechanical engineering.

Daisy is a lesbian. She was closeted until Arcade was a preteen because of a lot of stigma that was in the Enclave. She was also the first-person Arcade came out to and she helped support him and help him transition.

After the Second Battle of Hoover Dam she became friends with Pearl from the Boomers and then they started dating. They bonded over pilot things.

Johnson was the moral compass in the group. Even though he came to odds with the others when it came to subverting orders, they covered his back and made sure he wouldn’t get in trouble.

Johnson’s first name is Richard.

Judah tries his best to hold the others together but there were times when he felt that he couldn’t really fill Mark’s shoes as the ‘leader’. He'd blame himself if something bad happened to the group.

Daisy helped Arcade’s parents take care of him even before they died. She was close friends with them.

Johnson is bisexual. He also had a teeny crush on Mark Gannon (I don’t think he ever admitted it to anyone- they all just suspected it)

The Remnants homeschooled Arcade when he was little. They didn’t want him accidentally saying something to a teacher or another student- especially in an NCR backed school.

The group met Dr. Henry sometime after Arcade’s mom died. He quit his job working as a scientist in the NCR out of fear that he’d be outed as being formerly Enclave.

Mark Gannon had facial hair (I’m thinking like a long stubble beard)- Once Arcade tried to grow out his facial hair and then Daisy said he looked a lot like his dad. Arcade shaved it off after a minor existential crisis and prefers to be clean shaven cause of that.

Judah is ridiculously good at strategy games. His favorite game is chess.

Moreno threatened to leave the group and join the other members of the Enclave who were leaving for the east coast multiple times when they first left the Enclave. He could never actually bring himself to leave the group though.

I’m really sure Johnson is clinically depressed. Please get him some therapy.

You know what- get all of them therapy.

Henry doesn’t like children very much. He finds that they drain his patience and distract him from his work. He used to give Arcade busy work whenever he had to take care of him so he could focus on his actual research. He still does this whenever Arcade visits him in Jacobstown (much to Arcade’s annoyance).

Johnson and Moreno knew each other since they were teens. They never really got along.

Johnson smokes to calm his nerves.

The remnants gave Arcade a gun when he turned 11 to defend himself. Johnson and Judah taught him how to use it. They gave him his plasma defender on his 18th birthday sometime before he left to study with the Followers.

Moreno had a “tough love” approach when it came to parenting Arcade. Sometimes this led to some…less than ideal parenting situations. He meant well but he isn’t suited to be a parent like- at all. Ex: Once when Arcade was 15, he tried one of Johnson’s cigarettes and Moreno caught him smoking. He then made Arcade smoke the entire box in one sitting as a punishment. Now, Arcade can’t stand the smell of cigarette smoke because of the incident.

Daisy keeps in touch with Old Lady Gibson. She sometimes tells her news on what Henry is up to these days.

All of them are awful at giving advice in their own special way. Judah and Daisy would somewhat miss the point, Johnson goes off into a tangent about his own life/What Mark Would Have Done if it was Arcade asking, Moreno would go off into a tangent about the ‘Good Old Days’, and Henry just wouldn’t care. Daisy is probably the best bet for advice in that she is 100% Supportive even if her advice isn’t the most useful.

Daisy’s hair was strawberry blonde when she was younger.

Arcade gets his nose and his blonde hair from his mom.

They used to move around very often when they first left the Enclave, the longest they stayed in a town was 3 weeks tops. They started to attempt to settle down when Arcade got a little older for his sake.

The Remnants were hesitant to completely explain to Arcade why they were always moving and running away from the NCR because they didn’t want to have him think bad about his dad or the rest of them. Johnson and Judah told him bits and pieces because they didn’t want to completely keep him in the dark and Arcade was somewhat aware of the situation just from observing the others but he didn’t know a lot of details about the Enclave or his father. He found out about the extent of the Enclave’s war crimes through stories/rumors other wastelanders told him before he finally got the full story about what happened to the Enclave from the remnants when he was a preteen.

Arcade used to ask Daisy if he could learn how to fly the vertibird for his birthday or Christmas when he was little.

#Enclave Remnants #Judah Kreger #Cannibal Johnson #Orion Moreno #Daisy Whitman #doctor henry #Arcade Gannon #fallout new vegas #misty rambles #Oh look misty talks about the tiny minor faction #jhfdjhfg lemme know if I need to put this under a cut or smth #misty’s fallout headcannons

[onyxiana-is-obsessed]

I know it’s been a long time that you posted your Disillusioned mirio fic. but can you do another ending where they find y/n but she is just mentally gone. She never moves and only mumbles and whispers words so her family has no choice but to put her in a mental hospital

Hiii!! I hope you like it! Cuz I kinda do! I tried to make it as angsty as I could. I’m a bit rusty since I haven’t written in a while. I really liked this idea, too! Pronouns used: She/her Length: 1.9k

Tags: @x-midnight-violets-x @peachy-yabbay @shiggi-trash @boku-no-dumbass @happynoodle @happygalaxymilkshake

Emotionless

It had been two weeks since Mirio, Tamaki, and Nejire ran into the villain that looked exactly like (f/n). However, no matter what anyone said, the trio refused to stop searching. They took every opportunity that came their way to search for (f/n). Their determination was almost terrifying. They were unstoppable machines, hellbent on finding who hurt their friend and punishing them.

No matter how many times their mentors, teachers, or parents tried to talk to them, they refused to listen. Any time (f/n)’s name would come up in a conversation, they were immediately listening and extremely defensive. They would ruthlessly hound villains for any information, carrying a picture of (f/n) with them at all times. Any villain they ran into was thoroughly questioned before they were sent to the police.

Since they weren’t committing a crime, the police couldn’t do anything. Nighteye, Fat Gum, and Ryukyu tried so hard to talk to them on so many occasions but neither of them would listen. The only thing to do was to bench them, but they were too valuable. Due to their loss, they were even better and hunting down and capturing villains. The only problem was that it was mentally unhealthy.

Mirio, Tamaki, and Nejire excelled in all their classwork and pushed past what they’d already done. Everyone knew of the Big 3, but they also knew of what pushed them.

It wasn’t long before the Big 3 were linked to (f/n) and her disappearance. They weren’t accused of anything, but everyone knew of (f/n)’s relationship with them. Instead of phasing them, the trio used this to their advantage. Every villain now knew about (f/n) and how she was related to them. They spared no mercy to anyone who dared to hide any information about her.

Their efforts finally paid off and they caught a break. Tamaki had captured a villain and questioned them as per usual. But this time, he saw the small flinch at the mention of (f/n)’s name. It didn’t take long before Tamaki found out that (f/n) was alive. He immediately alerted Mirio and Nejire who wasted no time before meeting Tamaki at the location. Both of them had an off day but threw it away at the chance to find (f/n).

“She’s here?” Mirio asked as they approached a warehouse. Tamaki nodded as he got ready.

“That’s what I got out of the villain.” The trio took a deep breath before they snuck into the warehouse and started to look around. The warehouse was far from empty, in fact, it was an entire base for a group of villains. The trio quietly moved through the warehouse, seeing all the weapons that were being manufactured.

“Wait, is this the weapons ring?” Nejire asked, as she stopped behind a bunch of crates. Mirio and Tamaki looked around while Nejire opened one of the boxes and looked inside. “It is. This is where they’re making weapons and selling them from.”

“You’re kidding.” Mirio muttered as she walked up to her and peered into the crate. It was filled with weapons. Following suit, Tamaki walked towards another crate and opened it up.

“Hey, come look at this.” Nejire and Mirio walked towards Tamaki and looked into the crate.

“What is this?” Nejire asked as Mirio picked up a small vial. It was labeled “ricin”. Tamaki picked up another labeled “cyanide”.

“This is poison. They’re manufacturing weapons and selling them with poison?” Mirio whispered as Tamaki looked into the crate again. He saw small boxes of bullets that were hollow.

“No wait. The poison is meant to go into the bullets, look.” He picked up the small box and took out the bullet. “It’s hollow. I bet these dissolve when they pierce your skin.” Before the trio could do anything, they heard voices making them quickly cover the crates and hide. The three ran through a door and down the hall to get away from the villains. They came to a halt when they saw cells which were empty.

Almost.

“No…” Mirio muttered as he looked into the last cell in the corner. His eyes widened as his heart started to beat out of his chest. He saw a girl, sitting on the cold, damp floor with a blank look on her face. Her clothes were dirty and torn, she had bruises on her- all over her- yet she didn’t move an inch when they came closer.

“(f/n)!” Nejire yelled as the three ran towards her. In no time, Tamaki tore the bars off as Mirio ran into the cell. He scooped (f/n) into his arms, but she made no effort to move. The empty look in her eyes was scary and the three tried to get her attention, but she didn’t budge. It was almost as if she couldn’t hear them. 

“(f/n)-Baby look at me.” But she didn’t, she just wouldn’t move! Mirio took her face in his hands and made her look at him. However, what he saw shattered his heart.

Even though (f/n) was looking into his eyes, he couldn’t see anything behind hers. They were empty as if there wasn’t a single thought in her head. Her lips moved but no sound came out, making him lean forward in an effort to hear her. Whispers. Whispers but he could barely understand her. She sat limply in his arms. (f/n) was so cold and there was so much blood on her.

Wasn’t she happy to see him? He dreamed of the day he’d find her. He could picture how happily they’d embrace each other and he’d beg for forgiveness. He’d beg on his knees if he had to. But… now that she was here in his arms, she wasn’t even moving. Why? Why?!

“No… no. Please no.” He whispered as he desperately searched her eyes for something-anything! “S-say something. P-please say something, I-I’m begging you (f/n). Move! DO SOMETHING!” 

Tamaki and Nejire fell to their knees next to Mirio. Nejire weakly reached out with a shaking hand to touch (f/n), but couldn’t bring herself too. Before Nejire’s fingers could brush against (f/n)’s cheek, her hand fell to her side again.

This was their fault. This was all their fault and it was a punishment they deserved but not her. They had been so proud of themselves for being able to stand up to her. They were so proud when she had finally left. They were so happy. To Mirio and Nejire, they’d protected their friend. Their dear friend.

Until they heard the news report. Until they ran into that villain. Never again did they feel the same happiness. All three of them, mainly Mirio, were trapped in a reoccurring nightmare. 

They often saw (f/n) in their dreams. It was the same dream usually, the day when (f/n) happily came to them but they casted her out. She didn’t know anything… yet they didn’t believe her. She tried so desperately to tell them the truth. She tried so desperately to defend herself, yet they didn’t even give her the time of day. How could they? How could they do this to her? 

Tamaki took it the hardest. The dream was just a reminder of how useless he was. He couldn’t even tell a villain from a close friend. How couldn’t he? It was… (f/n). (f/n) was nothing like that villain but he didn’t believe her.

“I’m… so sorry.” Mirio whispered as he pressed his face into (f/n)’s chest and sobbed. (f/n) stared ahead with nothing in her eyes as her three friends sobbed beside her. Mirio held her tightly, hoping to find some bit of warmth in her, but there wasn’t any. She was… so cold.

She was alive, but at what cost? There was nothing left of her.

***

“This way, sir.” The nurse said as she led Mirio down the corridor. The hero silently followed her until they came to a stop. Mirio thanked the nurse and stepped into the room. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining brightly. Today was Mirio’s day off and he planned to spend it all here. Nejire and Tamaki were coming by later as well!

Mirio walked straight to the table and removed the old flowers from a vase. Every time he’d come by, he’d bring a beautiful bouquet of flowers. He replaced the wilting ones with the new ones he brought.

“Good morning, (f/n). These flowers were a newer set at the florists. She was sure you’d like them. I hope you do too.” Mirio chirped as he threw out the old flowers. He received no response, but continued anyway. “I finally have a day off! It’s so odd, I can’t really think of anything to do! I’m always so busy. I feel like I’m wasting time.” He laughed as he sat down in the chair beside her bed. He gently took (f/n)’s hand and started to ramble on about his day with (f/n) never responding, not even once.

This was his life now. (f/n) had been sent to a mental institution, where she was going to stay until she got “better”. That’s what the heroes and doctors told (f/n)’s family, but everyone knew the truth. They knew (f/n) was never going to get better.

Whoever took her made sure to finish her off before leaving her behind. They’d reduced her mind to ash so there was no chance of recovering it. (f/n) never spoke, she never moved on her own, she never did anything. Small mumbles and whispers left her mouth, but they were just gibberish. All she did was sit on her bed and stare at the wall. When she got tired, she would sleep. The nurses had to move her, bathe her, and feed her.

The villains they’d captured back at the warehouse explained they didn’t know anything about the girl. Their boss had brought her by and told them to keep her. Unfortunately, the heroes hadn’t been able to track down said boss. 

Mirio, Tamaki, and Nejire always came to visit (f/n). They seemed like they’d gotten better. They were smiling and weren’t as hellbent on revenge as they used to be. They were happily chatting away with friends, they listened to their teachers, families, and mentors. They seemed fine.

But in reality, they were just like (f/n). The trio had lost themselves. Now that (f/n) was back, they started moving on as if nothing had happened. Their days moved by happily, but… they weren’t ok. When they saw her in that cell, whatever small part of them that had survived the initial shock of hearing that she was dead died right there. That little piece they’d managed to keep safe, that little bit of themselves that they were able to preserve was gone too. They didn’t look like (f/n). They moved about, laughed, and enjoyed life. But their eyes resembled (f/n)’s. No light, no happiness, no sadness, just nothing. Not a single emotion. Just like their (f/n). 

They were no longer the Big 3 everyone knew. They were hollow shells, ones that were able to pretend everything was ok. Everyone tried to move on because just like (f/n), there was no hope left for them. This was something they couldn’t recover from, even though everyone tried.

On the bright side, they were together again. Mirio and (f/n) were together, whether it was physically or emotionally. On some plane of existence all four of them had been reunited through whatever they’d lost of themselves. It wasn’t this one though.

All four of them had died the day (f/n)’s body was found. This was just some pathetic attempt to say otherwise.

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mirio togata x reader #Mirio Togata #bnha mirio #boku no hero x reader #my hero academia mirio

[httpjeon]

❝ collateral damage ❞ pjm ― m.

― summary: you’re a simple bank teller and you certainly didn’t expect to be taken as collateral for outlaw bank-robber park jimin.

outlaw!jimin/reader ― ft. jungkook & taehyung | wild west!au | fluff, smut | 5.2k ↬ content warnings: basically pwp. kidnapping, guns, old timey bank robbery, referenced off screen murders (non-explicit), yoongi gets choked a bit, light thigh riding, sexual punishment, cunnilingus, dirty talk, light sir!kink, blow job, hair pulling, vague pain kink, pet names

a/n: this fic is part of the under fire collaboration for the summer smut project by @btssmutclub! be sure to check out the other writers’ fics for this collab! > disclaimer: i’d like to point out there is no real violence towards the reader in any capacity in this fic. she remains safe and unharmed throughout the fic, just spooked bc of jimin’s reputation as an outlaw and crimes!

→ blog masterlist      →collab masterlist

You huffed, covering your eyes with your hand like a visor as you stared out in the blistering heat of your city. It was hot enough to cook an egg out, no doubt.

It was a peaceful, small town that you had lived in your whole life. Everyone knew everyone and there was rarely a problem that arose.

"Mornin' _____!" The local mercantile owner, Yoongi, beamed at you.

The two of you had become good friends as your job at the bank was located right next door to the mercantile his family owned. Often, he would bring you little snacks during work and you frequently picked up your groceries and essentials from him.

"You hear they've up and found some gold nearby? I expect we'll start to get a lot busier now!" He smiled, mindlessly sweeping the front steps of his store.

"Oh really?" You hummed. "I haven't heard much. But with tons of towns popping up everywhere with the gold and silver bein' found, I guess it's hard to keep track. I didn't think there'd be some nearby here though!"

"Why? You wanna go and search for some gold?" Yoongi snickered.

"As if," You chuckled. "I'm doing well enough here, I don't need to risk my life for the sake of greed.”

"If you say so," He teased, finally turning and heading back into the store with a casual wave of his hand.

You sighed, wiping the sweat off your brow before turning on your heel to get back to work.

After that, it seemed Yoongi's prediction was right. You had people coming in, asking for loans and coming in to exchange their gold and silver for cash money.

Unfortunately, the peaceful reputation in your little town wouldn't stay that way for long.

Another terribly hot day that had you heaving against your desk — hoping the wood would somehow cool you down. The doors opened and several footsteps entered, making you look up.

"Hey there, sweetheart," A pretty-faced young man leaned against the counter.

"Welcome, how can I help you?" You asked, smiling up at him.

He had black hair that stuck to his forehead from sweat, a wide-brimmed hat on his head to shield his eyes from the sun.

He was good looking, no doubt about it.

Behind him stood two other men near the door, as if guarding it, and a feeling of unease began to wash over you.

"I'm awfully sorry about this but," You gasped as he pulled out long-barrelled gun, pointing it directly at you. "How about you hand me that little box back there and give me all the money you got, sweetheart?"

"I..." You trembled underneath the weight of his glare and the gun.

"Hurry it along, darlin' we ain't got all day," One of the other men called, his hand on his gun which sat in its holster.

"A-Alright...just hold your horses," You grumbled, grabbing the box and placing it down for the man. He chuckled, lowering his gun as you finally opened the box for him to take the money from.

He eagerly stuffed fistfuls of cash into his pockets with a grin on his face. You thought you were in the clear, breathing a sigh of relief as he began to back off, showing no intentions of actually hurting you.

That is, until the door opened and Yoongi walked in with a smile.

"Hey ____—" He was cut off by one of the men aggressively grabbing him, wrapping their arms around his neck to choke him as he slammed your friend harshly against the wall.

"Don't hurt him!" You cried, rounding the counter to try and come to your friend's aid.

Unfortunately, the man who took the money grabbed you, holding the gun to your temple making you cry out in fear and shock.

"Now, you're gonna behave mister and let us leave in peace alright?" He hissed. You met Yoongi's eyes, noticing how red his face became with the lack of oxygen. "And we're gonna take this here girl as collateral. We're gonna get out of here and get nice and far, and if we make it out safely...we'll let her go."

"Y-You can't..." Yoongi choked out, no doubt worrying for your well-being.

None of the men seemed to listen. Yoongi was released, falling to the floor with a heavy thud as he gasped for air. He was too weak to do anything to stop you from being dragged out.

“Remember,” One of the other men mumbled to Yoongi, bringing his finger to his lips in a shush motion. “Not a peep.” 

The streets were bustling more than usual, on account of all the traffic picking up lately, and you were easily manhandled onto the horse tied out front of the bank. Jimin hopped on behind you, his spicy scent permeating around you. You were sitting sideways on the horse in front of him, boxed in by his arms as he held the reigns.

"This is...crazy," You grumbled as the man kicked the horse, making you jerk forward in surprise. Glancing over the man's shoulder, you could see his two lackeys following.

"Sorry about this, we planned just a clean ol' robbin' but..." The man shrugged, trailing off before clearing his throat and looking down his nose at you. "What's your name anyway?"

"Why should I tell you?" You grumbled, wondering why you were acting like a brat to the man who literally had a gun pointed at you moments before.

"Well I'm Jimin...Park Jimin,"

Immediately, your body stiffened as a shiver of fear raced down your spine. You knew that name. His wanted posters were posted all across town, all across the state no doubt.

He was an outlaw wanted in several states for various crimes — mostly robbing banks and trains. He even had a few murders under his belt.

Okay, so he could kill you at the drop of a hat. Maybe you should be on his good side and not piss him off.

"M-My name is _____," You stuttered out, suddenly very aware of how you were hanging onto the fabric of his plaid shirt in order to keep yourself stable.

"Well, nice to meet you, _____. I hope we can get along well," He smiled, a rather cute eye smile for a wanted outlaw.

Why did your abductor have to be cute?

Still, with the memory of the cold steel of his gun pressed against you, you had no hope of escape anyway. You could jump off the horse but that would no doubt seriously injure you at the speed you were going. Plus, he'd probably turn around, angry, and shoot you in the end anyway.

You sighed, making him chuckle against your back.

"Now, now sweetheart it ain't that bad," He said. "Ain't nothin' bad gonna happen to you with us, I promise. We'll just keep you around until the heat dies down and we'll send you on home.”

"Unless you want to stay~" One of his companions said, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"Jungkook," Jimin scoffed, shaking his head but still smiling.

"Unbelievable," You whispered, noticing that you were beginning to slow down.

Looking around for the reason, you saw a little shack up ahead. It was out in the middle of nowhere, way off the beaten path, and you doubted you'd be able to find your way back to town because you had no clue where you were. Not like you were exactly paying attention to the route anyway. You didn't exactly frequent the outskirts of town, the desert was no place for someone like you — with the snakes and coyotes roaming about. You weren't very fond of the idea of being a wild animal’s snack.

Finally you came to a full stop and Jimin hopped down from the horse, holding his hand out for you. When you hesitated on it, he sent you a small glare that had you reaching down for him to help you. He kept his grip on your arm as he began to walk towards the house...or shack.

"Taehyung, you hitch the horses up, alright?" Jimin called over his shoulder, a short 'yeah' from one of the men came in reply.

You were tugged inside, which you were grateful for because the summer sun was literally 2 minutes from actually killing you. It was still hot inside but at least you were out of the sun.

The place was scarcely furnished — a worn couch, a little coffee table, and a couple sleeping mats. There were also some metal bowls sitting on the counter of the tiny kitchen.

"Have a seat, sweetheart, make yourself at home," His voice was soft but held a tone of authority that made a shiver travel up your spine. You were always weak to voices — that's why you liked to hear Yoongi talk so much.

At the thought of your friend, you frowned. You hoped he was okay and safe. Jimin dropped down in the empty seat beside you on the couch and pulled out a flask, handing it to you.

"Drink?"

Your eyes narrowed. "I don't drink."

"It's just water, darlin'," He said with a shrug, urging the flask towards you. "I know you gotta be thirsty bein' out in the heat."

"This isn't a trick?" You asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I promise it's just water," His voice and face turned serious as he said the words.

Sighing, you took the flask from him and turned it up — immediately you felt refreshed by the cool water. Taking a few mouth sips, you handed it back to him and thanked him which earned you a smile.

The door slammed open and the other two men came stomping in with groans about how the heat was killer. The one named Jungkook swiped some sweat off his brow before dropping to sit on the floor with a thud. The other, Taehyung, followed suit except sprawled out across the floor like a starfish.

"That floor can't be clean," You muttered, making Taehyung open on eye to peek at you.

"You worried about my health, honey?" He asked, a smirk gracing his lips when you narrowed your eyes in a glare.

"I'll have you know I can that floor meticulously every day," Jimin piped from beside you, taking another sip of water.

"Why do I find that hard to believe?" You shot back, crossing your arms over your chest as you eyed the dusty, dirty, scuffed floor the two men were laying upon.

"Why on Earth would I lie to you?" Jimin asked, raising a brow.

"Do you want the honest answer?" As soon as the words left your lips, Jungkook began chuckling from where he was leaning against the wall.

"Aw man, she's cute and funny," He muttered through his giggles. You felt your face flush at that, making you feel even hotter than you already were.

"Alright boys," Jimin stood up. "We should start getting ready for the night."

You remained seated, watching as the men began to bustle about. Jimin was in the kitchen cooking dinner, you assumed — which was weirdly domestic thinking about it. Jungkook went out to collect water and Taehyung was setting up the beds for the night.

"I guess you can sleep on the couch," He said when he noticed you watching.

"I can't believe this..." You grumbled, flopping back onto the couch with a sigh.

"Oh we're not that bad!" Taehyung pouted as he took a seat behind the small table in front of the couch.

You didn't offer a reply, only sighed.

The rest of the night wasn't anywhere near as bad as you expected. Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook laughed and joked with one another as they chatted. You ate some soup, which in the heat was torture, but it tasted good nonetheless and it felt good to have some food in your stomach. 

You were restless as you laid down on the couch that night. You could hear the even breaths coming from the three men scattered on the floor. It was strategic, how they were laying. Jungkook was sleeping right in front of the door so you wouldn't be able to get out. Jimin was sleeping right in front of the couch so you couldn't move without him knowing. And Taehyung was in between as an interception if you were to attempt to run away.

You were positive it was the worst night of sleep in your life when your eyes fluttered open, still heavy and stinging with exhaustion. Jungkook and Taehyung were gone and Jimin was sitting at the table cleaning his gun. He looked up when you sat up and smiled.

"Good mornin' sunshine," He grinned when you groaned in response. "What's the matter? Didn't sleep well?"

"I miss my own bed," You complained.

"Well that's just too bad," He sighed, placing his gun down. "We're keepin' our hands on you for awhile longer."

"This isn't fair!" You snapped, stomping your foot on the ground. "You stole the money, I don't want any part of this! I just want to go home!"

In the blink of an eye, Jimin was in your face, nose brushing up against yours as he glared.

"Better watch your tone, pretty girl," He growled, making your heart stutter in your chest.

Then as quick as he was there, he was standing and moving into the kitchen. You placed a hand against your chest and sighed while his back was turned to you. Your cheeks felt hot and you silently cursed him for being so damn attractive.

The longer you spent with Jimin, the more you began to see he wasn’t scary at all. He attempted to put up a front when he caught himself slipping but in the end, his true personality began to shine through.

“Jimin?” You asked one night while Taehyung and Jungkook were out. He hummed, looking up from where he was shining his boot. “Why did you become an outlaw?”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “What kinda question is that?”

“The normal kind?” You shot back, raising a brow.

“Well,” He cleared his throat. “Sometimes people do what they have to do to get by. I discovered a knack for thievin’ and I stuck to it. Simple as that.”

“Simple as that,” You scoffed, making him look at you with a frown. “There’s lots of things you could have done instead of stealing.”

“My decisions in life don’t concern you, little girl,” He snapped, making you flinch. His eyes were alight with anger at your words and you immediately quieted down.

He continued to glare at you for a minute, as if wanting to say something more, until the door opened and Taehyung and Jungkook came back in. Jungkook dropped onto the couch beside you and stretched his arms above his head until his joints popped.

"We're going to bed," Jimin snapped suddenly, making the other two look at him in shock.

"It's still early though!" Taehyung complained.

"You'll do as I say!" Jimin shouted, making everyone collectively jump at the volume.

Immediately the two scrambled to get into their sleeping arrangements. You sat on the couch, avoiding Jimin's gaze as he continued to glare at you as he placed his boots beside the couch.

No one uttered a word as Jimin turned the lamp out — casting the room in complete darkness save for the moon's light.

With a sigh, you collapsed onto your side and shut your eyes in an attempt to get some sleep as well.

"Wake up," Jimin uttered, shaking your shoulder until your eyes popped open in surprise. "Need you to go collect the water pails from outside. Taehyung and Jungkook ran off without bringin' them in."

You sighed as you sat up, blinking sleepily until you felt coherent enough to stand. Jimin was silent as he followed you out, watching you leave the house before turning back to sit on the couch and kick his boots off.

By the time you got inside, placing the water buckets down, Jimin was fast asleep on the couch with his mouth open. You stood and watched him for a second, eyeing the open door.

No one was watching and you could make a run for it. If you were quiet, Jimin wouldn't even wake up.

You squinted at him, feeling quite petulant over the problems he had caused you with literally kidnapping you and making your heart stutter in your chest over his stupidly handsome face. Sneaking out of the doorway, you tiptoed around the brush against the side of the building.

A sneaky grin crawled over your face as you heard the tell-tale signs of a snake warning you to stay away.

You dropped onto your knees and circled the creature until you got behind it. Reaching out with a steady hand, you quickly pinned its head and took hold of it to keep it from turning and biting you.

Then with a stealthiness that surprised even you, you snuck back inside and ever so easily dropped the snake into Jimin's boot.

Standing up straight and casting one last glance at Jimin, you turned and booked it out of the door.

The sun was still beating down, the summer heat making you break out into a sweat immediately. Your feet pounded against the ground with every step you took and you were quickly panting and running out of stamina — the heat literally sucking everything out of you.

You could have cried when you saw Taehyung and Jungkook riding up on their horses. There was no hope to escape; they'd already spotted you and you couldn't outrun their horses.

With a resigned sigh, you stood there and glared until Taehyung stopped beside you. He stared down with a brow raised.

"That was a close one, huh?" Jungkook uttered, saddling up on the other side of you.

"Hop on, don't be a pain," Taehyung muttered, though he sounded more bored than angry with your attempted escape.

You heaved a big sigh as you mounted Taehyung's horse, holding onto the back of his shirt as they rode back the short distance to the house. You could see Jimin was still asleep on the couch through the open door.

Jungkook was snickering as he hopped off his horse. He lifted his hand and helped you down off of Taehyung's and began to lead you inside the house, still holding your hand.

"Hey Jimin!" He shouted, taking both you and Jimin by surprise.

"What?!" Jimin shrieked as he sat up so fast it made your head spin.

"Almost had this one run out while you were gettin’ your beauty sleep," Taehyung muttered as he finally walked in, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

Jimin growled as he stood up, shoving his feet into his boots "This is—SHIT!"

"What?" Taehyung and Jungkook cried at the same time, watching as Jimin kicked his boot off, making it fly across the room and hit the wall.

The four of you watched as the poor snake slithered out of the boot and disappeared around the corner to the kitchen.

"There was a snake in my boot," Jimin muttered, glaring at his boot.

There was a beat of silence before Taehyung and Jungkook physically doubled over as they howled with laughter. You bit your lip to keep from laughing as you watched Jimin's bottom lip poke out in a pout.

After you all finished eating dinner, a rabbit Jungkook had caught earlier in the day, they decided to set back out once again.

"I heard that the law was starting to extend its search for us, turns out word’s gotten out we’re around the area, so I think it'd be a good idea to make sure there aren't any nosy people driftin' around," Taehyung said as he and Jungkook mounted their horses.

Jungkook slipped his hat on his head and gave you a little wave before taking the reins of his horse and following after Taehyung. You stood and watched, feeling Jimin's eyes on you, as the two vanished into the darkness.

"You know," Jimin said from his seat on the couch, voice a few octaves lower. "I don't really appreciate you making a fool of me today."

You felt a shiver go down your spine at the way he spoke, words full of unspoken promise. You could hear his boots against the floor as he walked up behind you, breath fanning over your neck. He swiftly pushed the door shut and turned you around, slamming your back against its surface.

You gasped, meeting his dark gaze, goosebumps rising over your skin at the look in his eyes; dark and lustful. Never before had you felt so drawn to a man — he was dangerous, charismatic, and so attractive that it almost made you crazy.

His plush, full lips met yours in a kiss that started off heated immediately, not wasting any time showing you what he wanted. You whimpered, reaching up to fist his dark locks and pull his body even closer to yours.

His hands became busy immediately, reaching behind you to pull free the buttons of your dress, the fabric pooling on the floor around your feet.

"So pretty," He whispered, gripping your waist and grinding his hard length, hidden in his jeans, against your hip.

You gasped, tightening your hold in his hair. Before you could deepen the kiss further, he was pulling away and pressing his lips against your neck. You moaned, tilting your head back to allow him more access. He reached up, cupping your bare breasts in his warm, callused hands and you whimpered — the rough drag of his palms against your sensitive nipples making your knees buckle.

He chuckled, working his thigh between your legs — your weight falling on his thigh to keep you upright. His jeans ground against your clothed heat as he continued to palm your breasts.

Tilting your head back against the door, he dipped his head down to take one of your perked, hardened nipples into the heat of his mouth. Holding back a whimper, your clung onto the back of his shirt as his tongue flicked the bud.

With his free hand, he gripped your hip and began to move you to grind against the firm muscle of his thigh.

"J-Jimin—" You whispered, eyes rolling slightly at the pressure against your clit. He pulled his mouth away from your breast and licked his lips, sharp eyes cutting up to look at your blissed expression.

"I think you should be punished, you know?" He asked, teasing tone apparent. "For trying to run away and for that mean prank you pulled."

"N-No...don't punish me," You whimpered, beginning to desperately grind against his thigh.

"Oh? You don't want to be punished?" He asked, straightening his back. The added height made him look more intimidating, especially with the way his sharp eyes were filled with hunger.

"No please," You whimpered, licking your lips as your core throbbed with need at the dominant energy he gave off.

"Then I think you owe me an apology," He whispered, lips moving to brush against yours.

"I-I'm sorry, Jimin," You gasped.

"Sorry for what?" He urged, tongue sneaking out to run over your swollen bottom lip — plump from biting it.

"F-For trying to run away a-and putting the snake in your boot," You whimpered, nearly sobbing when he sharply pinched your nipple.

He hummed, rolling the bud between his fingers. “Apology not accepted.” 

“What—!” You were cut off by him aggressively shoving you to your knees. 

“How about you really show me you're sorry,” Your arguments were cut off when he pulled his cock free from the confines of his jeans. 

Unable to help yourself, you leaned forward and enveloped the head of his cock between your lips. He hissed at the sudden contact, your tongue catching the precum beading at the tip. It was a little salty and slightly bitter but with the way his thighs trembled the deeper your took him, you could ignore the taste. 

His fist tangled in your hair and his head rolled back as he began to shallowly thrust his hips. He pressed against your gag-reflex and you pulled back with a cough. 

“You've got a sweet little mouth, you know?” He smirked, wrapping his fist around his cock and spreading the mixed saliva and precum along his shaft. 

You blushed, opening your mouth for him to slip his cock back inside. He groaned, eyes fluttering closed as you eagerly began to suck his cock. His grip in your hair tightened and the tinge of pain had you gushing into your panties. You whimpered around him, clenching your thighs together to hopefully ease the pressure forming between your legs. 

“Stand up,” He groaned, shuddering at the way you whined when his cock fell from your lips. 

Before you knew it, you were being pushed onto the couch, your ass in the air as he pulled your panties off. A string of wetness clung to the material as he pulled it from your legs. He groaned, catching it with his fingers and popping the digits in his mouth. 

“So sweet,” He growled, falling to his knees. 

He pulled your folds apart, exposing your clenching entrance to his hungry eyes. His cock throbbed when you gushed — sweet, creaming juices from your entrance. Unable to help himself, he leaned forward and slid his tongue over the expanse of your pussy. He could have came right then and there at the obscene cry of pleasure you emitted at the feeling of his tongue swiping over your clit. 

He chuckled, taking the swollen bud between his lips and circling his tongue over it until you were clawing at the couch beneath you. It was too much, your inexperienced body trembling at the overwhelming pleasure on your sensitive clit. 

“J-Jimin…” You whimpered, eyes rolling as you mindlessly ground your hips against his tongue. 

The introduction of his fingers had you letting out a long, drawn out moan as he sunk the digits into your spasming cunt. 

“Shit, you're tight,” He muttered swirling his tongue over your clit as he pulled his fingers back out, scraping over your g-spot in a way that made you sob. 

You cried out his name again, the only thing you could think of as the coil tightened in your stomach— winding up until your whole body was locked up. 

With a well-timed thrust of his fingers as his tongue circled your clit, you came. 

He worked you through it, wrapping his free hand around his cock to keep himself from cumming untouched at the incredible display of you cumming for him. Before long, your whines turned into those of overstimulation and he pulled back, getting to his feet. 

“Are you ready now?” He asked, nearly groaning as you arched your back for him — your swollen, gushing folds making him want to dive back down for another taste. 

“Yes sir, please,” He growled at the title and eagerly began to push into your tight entrance. 

The two of you cried out in unison at the feeling — him stretching you deliciously and the hot tightness of your walls enclosing around him. You were wet enough for him to easily sink in completely. 

“Look at you,” He chuckled, pulling back to quickly push back in. “What would your friends say if they knew you were letting a wanted criminal fuck your little cunt?” 

Your walls clenched at the idea and he chuckled, picking up his pace. He nailed your g-spot perfectly and you buried your face into the couch cushion to muffle the complete sobs of pleasure. He growled, not appreciating you attempting to quiet yourself, and wrapped your hair around his fist and yanked up until you were on your knees only. 

The change in angle has him fucking against your spot even harsher, and your eyes rolled back at the feeling. It felt like you were losing your mind, losing yourself on his cock. You were soaking his member, gushing and dripping down your thighs. The sounds emitted every time he moved within your cunt were obscene and you would have been embarrassed if your mind wasn't completely fogged over with pleasure. 

“They'll be back soon,” He grumbled, reaching around to find your clit with experienced fingertips. “Better hurry up darlin’ or else they might come in and see you creaming all over my cock.” 

His filthy words paired with the deft circles over your bud sent you over the edge. He let your hair go and oh bonelessly fell back onto the couch, trembling through your high. 

Before you could even get through the aftershocks of your orgasm, Jimin pulled out and wrapped his fist around his cock — working himself to his own orgasm. Ropes of cum splattered over your ass and you sighed at the feeling, licking your lips as you wished you could taste it. 

As you both came down, he dropped onto the couch beside you and sighed. Running his fingers through your hair, he pulled the knots that formed, from his pulling, free. 

“Let's get you dressed,” He muttered, smiling when you whined as his warmth left you. 

You sat up and allowed him to help you dress back up — just in time for Jungkook and Taehyung to come barreling in.��

“We've gotta go,” Taehyung growled, grabbing Jimin's pack off the floor and tossing it to him. 

“W-Wait!” You gasped as Jimin grabbed your hand and pulled you off the couch. 

“You go with Jungkook, he'll drop you off closer to town so you can get home,” Jimin muttered, watching as Taehyung and Jungkook swept the area to make sure their belongings weren't being left behind. 

“Wh-Where are you going?” You asked. 

“Probably gonna head on to the next state, get away from the heat here,” Jimin grunted as he mounted his horse. 

“Take me with you!” You cried, wincing when three pairs of eyes were on you. “I...I want to stay with you, Jimin.”

“Shit, you got it bad,” He chuckled, narrowing his eyes at you. “Cute little girl wanting to come with the outlaw, huh?” 

“I…” You suddenly felt embarrassed, realizing he most likely didn't feel any real attachment to you like you felt. 

There was a beat of silence, Jungkook and Taehyung mounting their horses. 

“Hop on then, baby,” Jimin chuckled, holding his hand out. “We've got a long road ahead of us. I'm sure you'll enjoy it though.” 

You grinned, fighting the stinging tears of happiness in your eyes as you took his hand and let him help you onto the horse behind him. You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head against his back. 

With a swift kick to the side of his horse, the three of you were off. You turned and watched the little shack disappear from view in the darkness and you realized you didn't even feel sorry about your leaving. 

Maybe one day you'd see Yoongi again but deep down, you knew you were excited for the new adventure ahead.

© httpjeon 2019. do not modify or repost.

#btssmutclub #bscproject #bts smut #jimin smut #bts scenarios #jimin scenarios #bts imagines #jimin imagines #bts reactions #jimin reactions #bts preferences #jimin preferences #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin/reader

[smallestclowninthecircus]

Tma season 2 notes baybeee

I made myself take several breaks so I could give my frie d who is listening to it at the same time as me a chance to catch up. Honestly just posting them so I have them saved somewhere but whatever.

ep 41: real graham wrote keep watching before he was replaced. Jon feels like he's being watched. But they werent replaced by things related to the eye. It's the web that's on the box that replaces them. Endless hallways and doors to nowhere. I bet nicholas will have ideas what entity this relates to. If it even does. They're like the tunnels in the one with the builder guy. Tunnels closing in etc. Also like the cave diving one. He's assuming it's just one

ep 42: so 100 gecs? (IM SORRY I LIKE 100 GECS BUT LMAO) so there's some entity related to music right? There's the piper episode and the 27 w/ the calliope. Ah yes, this season is gonna be the season of Paranoid!Jon

ep 43: section 31? fucking books. god no. smashed lights? cult lady did that. covered the lights too. she mentioned a spooky clown doll. thats not random.

ep 44: is this that same circus that got mentioned before? it is! the pipe organ! pop off organ! pipe off! mouth on the stomach! yes! mouths in unusual places my beloved!

ep 45: antiques! like that one ep!

ep 46: every time books get mentioned i sigh. hhh sus smells. it got brighter. I get the vibes occasionally that the dark and the eye are sorta at odds with eachother. GRRR BARK BARK LEITNER. ayyy ex altiora. entity go brr. which entity do we thing it is? my guess is The Dark. The book buyer's name is Mike. He has scars? Electricity? The childhood friend of the guy who got it later on perhaps? The Vast? its formatted like an entity idk. This happened before the other one. He got trapped in the wood carving. a win for the web lol spiders go brr

ep 47: did i hear spiral? ITS THE NOT THING FROM THE EPISODE WITH NOT GRAHAM "it didnt move, it shifted" is like the exact same sentence as before. ay john's starting to remember. the laughing woah thats weird. is "michael" one of the entities? "you make it seem like theres a war" supports my theory that theres a struggle between a couple of the entities. I said i thought it was the eye and the dark i believe but im not sure. its whatever entity michael is vs the worms? what did nicholas say the worms were again? The Corruption? still dont know which one michael is tho.

Had to take a break after that episode. smth about the quality of michael's voice makes me feel like im gonna slip into one of those states where it feels like nothing is real, so i got a nice cold glass of water.

ep 48: jesus ok this one's kidna corny. you're telling me love made the crowd go away come on now. Ur losing it big J. also shouldnt it be more sus that "sasha" is so unaffected by the worm incident/ finding of gertrude's body

ep 49: haven't we heard hector's name before? oh is he the crime guy? fucking jared... so it's a throat? chompa chompa. (it's just a little bit hot) the good part about these episodes is that we know whoever's telling the story isn't gonna die. even if it's a close call, they're not dead. hotworth? ok not jared keay. it bothers me how theres so many repeated names, can they not come up with other names? "sasha"'s computer is breaking... sus. Elias our favorite weed man! jon ur so paranoid lmao

ep 50: robert smirk, at it again. this is like that one episode with the old dude who locked his door. who said idle beforehand? was it smirk? fingertips. thats so weird lmao. bahahah tim

ep 51: simon fairchild. im sure jon will mention the name at the end i cant remember where we've heard it. this is just like the cavediving episode. a hand? there was a hand in the last one right? the scalpel! and an eye thing. she's trying to throw them off.

ep 52: thats the guy from before! with the hearts! god i hate this guy writing the statement hh. lights blowing, and brackish water. we know how this ends but its still tense. rainer? reigner? rain man. we've seen him before

ep 53: pls not a leitner. oh boy mans scratched out his eyes. rip skelly. why would gertrude have had this statement off the books? jon stabbed himself?? bruh im? big man are you okay

ep 54: cockney boys! ayy its our favorite delivery men. she cut out their eyes. she knew that the eye was a thing?

ep 55: oily residue like the retirement home!

ep 56: worms? no. spiders?? bruhh. aaah yelling :(( aww martin anyways yeah i called it about paranoid!jon he needs to take a nap and drink some hot chocolate and calm down for once please

ep 57: just remembered, i think theres an entity called The Lonely?? This feels pretty lonely idk. fairchild, lukas/ lucas, some spooky place in norway idk. "sasha" knew he was recordinig hmm suspicious cmon jon figure it out. Sasha and tom. hm sus. for records sake i feel liek i should note here that I did have it spoiled to me simply that that's not sasha, but thats really all. i assumed it was like the thing that happened to graham in S1

ep 58: i feel like i recognize the name eustice (?) wick. someone please tell me im not just watching jon's descent into madness over the course of this podcast. im hoping it isnt so but, (and pardon the dsmp reference) im getting real wilbur vibes from this one.

ep 59: oh dear ok account from the fielding house. swirling designs? Spiral time? oh boyy. oh wait! 6 inch hole in the middle! is it not a spiderweb type design on the table? thats what i had assumed but that description sounds more like a spiral thing. cobwebs is a Web thing. ayy nicholas was right! the box goes in the table! the place that she kissed him was burning. Raymond is an avatar of The Web and agnes is the burning one. Lightless Flame! Why did she save him? i guess she was against this guy eating ppl or wtvr but why was she at the halfway house then? I think she's like michael.

ep 60: the eye go brr

ep 61: breacon and hope once again. tom. sasha's boyfriend. vampires sleep in coffins. the guy just walking in seems similar to the mind control of the vampires

ep 62: bones! its that one leitner. is this mother keay? the mom of gerard? this is what happened to her right? her skin was found on hooks? oh yeah thats what i thought the pages are made of skin. yeesh. The End!! sounds like an entity. phrased like one, and i think i remember it. are the people trapped in the pages? or... kept?

ep 63: eaten by the darkness! cavediving episode! (just like eaten by the sky) did my brain make up one called The Vast? it feels like it should be one, and all these episodes have some similar description about their feelings when they do whatever chosen hobby they have. ok now this one kinda feels like the dark. lights going out and all that. ok so not really a The Vast thing, its more of a Dark thing. feckin smirk gah.

ep 64: dice! the death guy! the death game thing! the person tricked somebody else into becoming death and then they were immortal? but if the egyptians wanted to kill him or punish him or whatever couldnt they just kill him? it worked in the end when he had the person giving the statement stab him, that did the job and actually killed him

ep 65: finally jon is actually acknowledging something is wrong.

So we know Mary Keay was revived most likely with the book by gerard.

Gertrude was way more aware of the entities than Jon. mary keay referenced The End openly and she cut the eyes out of her magazines and all that which makes me think she was aware of The Eye

ep 66: please not buried alive pleeaase not buried alive. lukas of the tundra? didnt we hear the name lukas before? she wanted it to be difficult to find important files because that way bad people couldnt find them?

ep 67: agnes... the girl in the hilltop house? agnes poppin off!! he's really not gonna question how she knew where he lived?? oh no D: the tree. were they the ones working on the house? aww they kissi- OH DEAR. why did she kiss him? it seemed like she cared about him? also she could kiss that other dude on the cheek and he was fine, but maybe it was cuz she was younger? lightless flame go brrrrr.

ep 68: oh god books. yup its bitchboy leitner. mans said "this seems supernatural, its a werd book!" bruuh.

ep 69: heh nice. aw cmon jon listen to martin. gahhh spiders. is that the class we heard about in the other doctor one with the teeth apple? some kind of psych class? oh dear. fucking spiders. aaaah. web do be goin brr. it's like the girl in the homeless shelter! who made the guy leave and she took his bed.

ep 70: is this gonna be the book that mary keay had? Most likely a leitner no matter what. Oh boy latin. Why did it start in latin then become old English? I'm guessing people put them in the book? He cant burn it. Phrophecies go brr. He says eh it's a decade in the future it's fine. Its gonna have changed. Ayy called it. Just accept it, it's a magic book. His death is getting closer. Leitner didnt make them but just collected them? Gertrude burned the book! She burned them down there so no one would know.

ep 71: oh boy tunnels. Our favorite thing /s. is The Buried a thing? Idk this seems pretty buried. Oh dear he's trapped here isnt he. "Not enough space to move, never enough to breathe" is that from the computer episode? With the guy who uploaded his consciousness? Somebody living down there. Hmmmm. Guesses: tom, sasha's boyfriend. Gertrude herself? (Though I doubt it)

ep 72: sweeney todd moment. Meat. The slaughter? Idk we'll see what the supernatural part is. Meat is meat. Similar to the slaughterhouse episode. Is it fucking Jared I swear to God it better not be. Hooligan teenagers, you know how it is. Meat is me lmao. Is the kid gonna be in the freezer. Ok that's good. OWW. Oddly textured candles. Made from people? Human fat or smth? Tom from the meat processing plant!

ep 73: outer bay shipping. Bet it's a subset of breacon and hope delivery. The Dark go brrr. Uh oh mans is gonna die. Leo or whatever. Cult ppl go brr. The people's church of the divine host. Who is the divine host? Is it reigner or whatever his name is? I dont think Jon can quit tbh. Probably an anonymous tip but from who?? One of the entities?

ep 74: fucking teeth hhh. I dont know which entity is related to teeth. Spiral. Isnt the spiral an entity. It feels like it could be related to many things idk. Yeah this sounds like the spiral. Heart attack at 29? Jesus... michael! That's kinda what I was thinking. Sasha goin in the tunnels. Hmm sus. They move the floor. Wack. Bet its tom.

ep 75: Man with a lightning scar. Has one of the leitner books. The childhood friend of the one who first introduced us to leitner. Oh my god that sounds terrifying. Michael crew.

ep 76: scalpel? Hmm spooky. NotSasha... think jon think.

ep 77: another double! NotThem, The Stranger. Not related to the table?

ep 78: what was that at the beginning? Question mark?? Oh boy more NotThem. Decker... what is the deal with the table. Does it contain the creature? Fucking Michael. Bitchboi himself.

ep 79: yes pop off martin. Ugh fucking Michael just leave man. I hate that dude. New person. Hmm. No idea who it is.

ep 80: shitener himself! Ok sir tell us the entities. Ayy The Spiral. Ok we know what that one is. The Eye is the beholding! Oooh. The Stranger. Did elias just kill leitner? Popping off honestly.

#Neptune tma notes

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter 3.5: No Moral nor Decency (Part 1)

Warnings: violence, murder (cold-blooded), gory details

Author notes: I’m happy to start that short story which ended up becoming a whole important part of “Seeking”! Still, it is not the fourth chapter because I was attached to its first existence as a one-shot... Please enjoy!

Last note: the song mentioned exists; its title is “Yurikago no Uta”, a japanese lullaby. I simply took its translation!

"A canary sings

A cradle song

Sleep, sleep,

Sleep, child!

Above the cradle,

The loquat fruits sway

Sleep, sleep,

Sleep, child!"

The powerful thunderstorm which soaked Yokohama in a heavy rain and covered the town with greyish clouds was a tourment for this young mother, who was struggling to make her baby sleep. Her eyes were circled — just like mine — her body was weakened — just like mine — she seemed to be exhausted, and I was sure she craved for sleep at this late hour of the night — just like me. What was the difference between this woman and the lost thing I was...? It was so simple, and yet this little something she had was an unreachable Eden in my eyes: happiness. Her tired eyes shone brightly with this peculiar light, her lips were turned upwards as she looked lovingly at her child and her moves were full of delicacy and care...

Another rumbling of thunder awoke the baby, who started to cry again. I took the small box of pills from my pocket and put a pain reliever between my teeth, before closing the container firmly. I was drenched by the rain, the result of observing that strange sight through the window of the room, on the second floor of the house, yet it did not bother me the slightest. Strangely, I was drawn to that scene and could not detach my eyes from the obvious love between that mother and that newborn.

"A squirrel rocks

The cradle by its rope

Sleep, sleep,

Sleep, child!"

I sighed. A happy family... A pure woman who had just started to discover the joys and troubles of being a mother... An innocent, immaculate baby who, I assumed, was not even three months old... Their only crime was to be the family of a traitor; a corrupt politician who had always supported us, the Port Mafia, by suppressing proof of our crimes, secretly legalising some of our activities and expanding our network within the government. Several days ago, he had declared he would not do it anymore, for he found it too risky...

The only thing he had forgotten was that betraying the Port Mafia was even more "risky", as he would say it.

"Dreams in a cradle,

With the yellow moon

Shining down

Sleep, sle-"

I broke the window thanks to a powerful kick, which sent sheds of glass everywhere in the room. The lovely lullaby was interrupted, replaced by the gasp of fear escaping the mother's throat, and even the baby stopped crying. The rain and the wind rushed through the window as I landed on the soft carpet with dexterity, right in front of the young man and her baby. The mission that had been given to me by my superior started at this very moment, and I did not have the right to fail. The floor cracked under my weight as I slowly advanced towards the people I was supposed to kill, pulling one of my guns out. The mother's eyes were no longer shining in happiness as they were looking at me, terrified yet intrigued, an odd mix of fright and questioning I did not dislike. Human beings were curious animals. Their ability to follow any white rabbit they saw would often lead them to death, and it was no different for that person. She wanted to know who I was, why I was there, a weapon in my hand, just in front of her. And at the same time, she wanted to run away. Animalistic instincts, remnants of our existence as beasts, often clashed with our overly conscious reason. That was why that woman could not move an inch when I crouched in front of her, pointing my gun to her head. She was trembling, hands gripping onto her silent baby, as tears rolled onto her cheeks abundantly. I could easily hear the plea she was addressing me.

"Please... Whoever you are..."

She was another human trying to save her own life... I had stopped expecting anything from my fellows, too disappointed in their selfishness and egotistical behaviour. Even parents were unable to love their children if money was involved. The reality of that world disgusted me greatly. I glanced at her child, wondering if she would be able to kill him if I were to suggest it would save her life. There were other people who had not hesitated to do so...

"Don't..."

"Don't kill him...!! Don't kill my child...!! I don't know who you are, or what you want, but I beg you, don't take my son's life...! Kill me if you wish, but don't take my son's life...!" She begged me, throwing herself at my feet.

My eyes widened, and I practically dropped my gun to the ground. She was not lying. Her words matched her exact thoughts. She really did want to save her child... She was able to love... And, more importantly, she was willing to sacrifice herself for her baby. I had never witnessed such sincere feelings.

I clenched my jaw. I had to regain my composure. Even the slightest failure could lead me to my own end, and I could not afford to die just yet... Why did I cling so desperately onto life, despite being cursed since my birth with an unwanted ability which had made me hated by my parents? Why did I not want to die yet, whereas I was aware the only thing which would welcome me by the end of the mission would be a cold glare and curt orders? Why did I not escape that tiring and restless life of mine, instead of struggling like a fish one would have gotten out of water? All I could do was turning, wiggling and jumping in hope to get back to the wonderful life, vainly. I was suffocating, but I was still holding onto life with all the pitiful will remaining in my heart. And if I had to kill people to achieve this purpose, surely would it not be too expensive to buy myself some sleep. I too, after all, was only interested in surviving and unable of love.

For a second, however, I hesitated. The thought of letting them run away crossed my mind, but I could not be too overwhelmed. As soon as Dazai-san had ordered me to warn the politician, they had been doomed to die by my hands.

Without emitting a word, I coldly pressed the barrel to the mother's head. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and fear was visible in her eyes, but she kept begging for her newborn child, and I felt my hand tremble, finger unable to press the trigger. The worst was being to read her thoughts. Her maternal love slapped me, crushed me mercilessly and I was submerged by the waves of her affection, heart torn by these powerful emotions. Nevertheless... Nevertheless, far from making me back away, it angered me. I really had had the worst of luck... That newborn, were he to be left alive, would have grown surrounded by loving parents, in a warm house, with kind friends to support him through any hardships... Why had I had nothing of those? Why did I have nothing at all? I pulled the trigger, harshly. As her blood and pieces of brain splashed onto me, I found myself oddly laughing, contemplating my hands reddened by the warm liquid and feeling parts of her cognitive organ on my skin. However... It was shakily that I took another painkiller, before turning toward the baby, who was still held in his mother's caring arms. I noted, quite surprised, that the woman's grip was strong, as though trying to protect her baby, even from death. His big, terrified eyes stared at me in awe, and the thunder managed to frighten him even more. What a strange sight it should have been, a mafioso drenched in blood facing a pure and innocent child. With a slight smile, I grazed my reddened index finger against the skin of his cheek, tainting the snow-like flesh with sticky and scarlet blood. He giggled.

He suffered the same treatment as his mother; head blown off without any resistance. The main matter was not to get rid of those innocent people anymore; it was to think about a way to make this politician understand who he had provoked. The puddles of blood and stains on the wall were meaningful enough but... They did not serve the purpose of warning him. I did not want to show a massacre, but to menace the man who had dared to turn his back to the organisation. Had he not been an important pawn of our chessboard, he would already have been found, jaw broken and chest pierced by three bullets. I needed him to feel threatened.

Steadily, without even bothering to remove my shoes since the inhabitants had been killed, I made my way toward the kitchen. Surgeons preferred scalpels to cut bodies, butchers had a liking for bigger knives. Human flesh was no different from meat, so my choice of weapon was not completely wrong. I only hoped it would be sharp enough to make my job easier. I had the troubling feeling that I had already taken too much time, and I did not want to be punished by the executive for being too slow. I had to get to work quickly.

The task was complicated. I was no doctor nor was I familiar with medical matters. Human anatomy seemed like a foreign language to me, and I only had common knowledge to help me accomplish my mission. Swiftly, I cut the mother's chest, got bothered by the rib cage, then, after struggling in the blood, finally managed to locate the heart. It was still warm, nuzzled in between her lungs, but it did not beat. It would be perfect hung on the ceiling, right in front of the entrance door. The baby was too small to use, so I imagined a scenery; I would put the two in the bed, cover their face with the blanket, and leave the puddles of blood in the other room. If the traitor did not scream, shout and cry upon coming back from work, then he was even less human than I was. Hopefully, it would be enough for him to comply. Without much more consideration, I left the knife on the crime scene, not quite afraid of being arrested by the police. Not only would I not mind, but I also knew such a thing would never happen. The man would never call the authorities to denounce a crime he was aware of the author of, simply because he did not ignore he would be killed if he revealed the Port Mafia was behind this. Besides, he would also need to admit to have been a collaborator, which would earn him a few years in prison as well. That crime would remain a secret only spread in the underworld.

Since I had perfectly completed my mission, I could go back to the headquarters to make my report to my superior, the young executive Dazai Osamu-san. One last time, I glanced at the room. It was such a mess... Blood was splattered on the walls, on the carpet, on the curtains, the window had been broken and the rain had soaked the floor. I sighed slightly and picked a small plush toy up. It had been spared from the massacre... Ever since the killing of the Ogawa family, I had had that voice, whispering in my mind that I would never be able to redeem myself for the deeds I committed, and I knew it spoke the truth. With time, I believed I would get accustomed to it and face my future; I would burn in the flames of hell for eternity once that life would be over. Without looking back, I shoved the toy in my pocket and jumped out of the window.

More painkillers was a luxury I would gladly indulge in once I would be back.

< Previous

Next >

#bsd #bsd oc #bsd fanfic #bsd dazai #bsd imagines #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs oc #dazai osamu

[scullysexual]

hunger games au (with mulder and scully)

Just a little self-indulgence fic and an idea that wouldn’t leave me alone. I’m sorta proud of it rn and decided to post it. This is pretty much for myself and I’m not gonna much in terms of making sure everyone reads it. If you like it, feel free to let me know if not bye. Not much is gonna be changed in terms of plot, this is literally going to be fanfiction in it’s finest form. It might have elements of a crossover if I can’t find the appropriate xf character to play the hunger games character but we’ll see. Words: 2809.

- - - 

There’s nothing there except a swirling black void, harsh waves crashing, screams of men, and a father drowning in the sea.

Dana wakes just before her father goes under. Her stomach tightly coiled with a realisation that her consciousness has yet to remember.

It’s chilly, the tips of Dana’s fingers red raw from the cold night. She tucks them beneath the blankets and rolls over to the other side. Adjacent to her lies her sister, buried beneath three blankets. Only the tip of her noise is really visible, the rest of her obscured by blankets or vibrant red hair.

Not too far away is her younger brother spread out in the space left by their elder. And finally, on the double bed near the corner, her mother sleeps.

Dana rises, pulling off the covers and bracing the chill. She dresses quickly and quietly, careful not to wake her remaining family members. She pulls on yesterday’s clothes, her boots, clips her hair back in its familiar style and heads towards the kitchen.

“Morning.”

Bill Jr. sits at the table, lacing up his shoes, his miner’s hat beside him.

His presence startles Dana.

“I thought you’d be gone by now,” Dana says. She makes her way towards the jug of water.

“I’m going now,” he tells her.

Bill stands almost immediately after and picks up his hat.

“There’s not a lot of bread left. Make sure you leave enough for Mom, Missy, and Charlie.”

Dana’s eyes move to the basket holding the bread. Bill was right, there’s barely any left. She adds trading with the baker onto her mental list of things to do today.

Bill hasn’t gotten far down the street before Dana’s following him but he doesn’t slow down to walk with her or even take note that she’s behind him. It’s no bother to Dana anyway, as he turns left, she turns right, headed towards the woods.

Technically, entering this area of the District is illegal. Hunting and trading is high on the list of crimes and the punishment for it is death. At least it should be. Most turn a blind-eye to it. The Peacekeepers that guard the city are just as poor and hungry as many of the other residents and while only a few will venture into the woods themselves to procure food and plants, they won’t say anything if they catch you trading.

It’s the Capitol you really need to look out for and their cameras. While it’s not been confirmed, it’s rumoured that they hide cameras so as to spy on the Districts. Dana has yet to find any cameras walking around town and with the fence meant to keep wild animals out, she doubts there would be any cameras in the woods.

But still, she bares it in mind when she enters.

There was a time when she didn’t need to hunt. There was a time she didn’t live in the Seam. Most residents of District 12 are miners however her father was one of the fortunate ones not to have that profession. He was a sailor, in charge of carting coal in a ship back and forth to the Capitol. He was also one of the rare ones to be allowed to leave.

He used to say the Scullys were for fit for District 4- the fishing district. There was even some speculation that the family was from there originally and somehow ended up in this district.

She can still the remember the house they lived in, caught between the Merchant Town and the Seam. Her only problem back then was having a sense that she didn’t belong anywhere. Too poor for the Merchant Town residents, too rich for the Seam residents. Even when they had to move, the Seam residents still viewed her as one of the more fortunate ones.

The move had been caused by the death of her father. Caught in a storm just off District 4, his ship had capsized, killing all members onboard. The family had been notified of his death via an eviction notice. Her mother had crumbled, becoming just a shell of her former self. Billy had tried to become the man of the house and, in theory, he was but he was too much of a rule abider and even when things began to take a sharper turn for the worse, he still wouldn’t venture into the woods to hunt. Melissa was just too soft to hunt. Dana had tried to teach her but Missy had started crying at the sight of the wounded creature. Charlie, the youngest, was just too young at the time. He was seven- too scared and confused to really do it anything. So it had all fallen down to Dana, at eleven years old, her stomach grumbling, it came down to her to get the food on the table and it had been that way ever since.

Dana follows the path of stamped grass and weeds all the way to the entrance to the woods. Not a real entrance, just heavy-duty netting that’s been ripped and nobody’s bothered to fix. The fence is supposed to be electrified all day, every day but there’s barely enough electricity to power the important buildings, nobody wants to waste it on this. Still though, Dana listens for the faint buzzing and if there isn’t one, it’s safe and she sneaks through.

The woods don’t scare her anymore. There are still the wild animals lurking about but as soon as she’s armed with her dagger and spear she feels practically invincible against them.

She reaches for her weapons now, hidden behind a fallen tree, deep down in a hole. It’s nothing fancy, metal is hard to come by so the spear is just pieces of wood stuck together but it’s effective and sharp and does the job.

Her dagger, however, is the real treasure. On one of her father’s trips a man had given it to him and when her father returned he kept it hidden from the rest of his family, presenting it to her the first time they came out here.

While they had no reason to hunt when her father was alive, her dad had still taught her to. That had surprised her, he always appeared much like Bill Jr., always following the laws. Until Bill, however, William Scully was smart. He knew his profession made him stand out against the miners, knew the Capitol would see him as a looming problem, knew that one of these days his time would be up, his family would finally suffer the consequences and they would need every help they could get.

The dagger was expensive. A green and gold handle with real sharp steel at the end of it. They would have a lot of anything they wished for if Dana sold it but none of her family members knew about it and it was the last gift her father ever gave her.

“What took you so long?”

Dana turns to see Ethan standing behind her, already prepared with his bow on his back and his own wooden spear at his side. He was the closest thing she had to a friend, having found each other the first time Dana fully ventured into the woods without her father. She had been scared when she saw him, tried to run for it but fell over instead. Ethan had been furious, screaming at her that she had scared his dinner away. Dana felt tears prick her eyes but she would not cry even as he called her stupid and useless. Finally he asked what she was here for.

“To hunt,” Dana said meekly.

Ethan had laughed, shaking his head and walked away.

A few days past since at incident and she hadn’t seen him again, not until she was trying to kill a rabbit. Leaning against a tree, watching her struggle. He hadn’t announced himself, for the longest time Dana didn’t even know he was behind her but an arrow had pierced the rabbits head and that’s when she spun around and saw him.

After that they became hunting partners. He would shoot the smaller animals with his arrows, her the bigger animals with her spear. Eventually, Dana had mastered stealth. She knew how to sneak up on the animals without startling it and kill it with her dagger.

She also looked for plants, too. Some for eating, some for healing. There were no hospitals here, most replied solely on homecare or you could pay a visit to the Scullys where they would stitch you up and allow you to live a little longer.

And that was her day. Hunting animals and trading in the early mornings, school till three o’clock, and a healer in the evenings.

All except today.

“How are you feeling?” Ethan asks as they begin their usual route through the woods.

Dana thinks back to the way her stomach coiled when she woke. The worry for herself, for her family. For Ethan and his family.

“How everyone feels on this day,” she answers.

This day. By law, written as a holiday but in reality it is as far away from one as possible. School is shut, businesses close early, everyone meets at the Square by 2pm, dressed in their best preparing themselves to cry themselves to sleep or sigh in relief that they have survived another year.

“We’ve been lucky this far,” says Ethan with a shrug.

It’s all bravado, she knows. He’s just as worried as she is. But she has gotten lucky. Three siblings and herself and not once since becoming of age has any of them got chosen. Still, each year becomes more nerve-wrecking. Melissa’s eighteen, her name is in that box eight times. Bill’s aged out, thank god. Dana lost count how many times her name has been entered (taking tesserae means your name is added each time as a trade but there’s only enough for one person so Dana’s had to take out one for each member of her family already making her name being entered four times more. The tesserae given out isn’t enough to last which means taking out more and in return her name being entered multiple times more). It’s only Charlie, who only turned twelve last month, who’s name has been entered once. He’s the least of her worries.

Ethan isn’t much better. While he only has an older brother, who has also now aged out, he’s just as poor as her, his name is also in that box more than it should be.

“Come on,” says Ethan pulling her thoughts away from boxes and names. “Let’s focus on hunting. Maybe find something nice to celebrate later.”

Dana watches him walk off for a moment, temporarily stunned.

“You’re really not worried?” she asks.

He stops and looks over to her, his eyes scarily vacant.

“We don’t need to worry till 2.”

He’s right, Dana realises. Worry makes her clumsy, loud, and if she wants her family and herself to eat tonight, she needs to push that worry away.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Dana pushes the front door open carrying her winnings in a bag at her side. She’d done good today, most people at the Hob were anxious to sell before they had to shut down for the day. In the woods, she had managed to kill three squirrels, earning her one and a half loafs of bread from the baker, a few coins for selling the strawberries, and even a turkey to eat tonight. The greens she found, she kept herself, rabbit pelts she traded for a blanket, and a few herbs to add to the medicine cabinet.

Melissa greets her when she enters, already dressed in what looks to be one of their mother’s old dresses from when she was younger. Her hair is pulled back and braided in parts. She looks beautiful but then Melissa always looks beautiful no matter what.

“Dana’s back!” she calls.

“Send her in!” Mom shouts back.

Melissa takes the bag, putting the stuff away and Dana enters the bedroom here her mother is currently having a fight with Charlie’s hair.

“Put that on.” She nods to the floral dress laying on the bed.

Dana hates dresses but it’s almost customary to wear one. That or a skirt. Something feminine.

“That’s gonna have to do.” Maggie pats Charlie on the shoulder telling him he can go. “Is Bill back yet?” Maggie asks.

“He wasn’t in the kitchen,” Dana answers as she climbs into the dress.

“I don’t want us being late,” Maggie mutters.

Her mother almost becomes unbearable on this day. Stressing and running around like times is going to go quicker just because it’s today. They could have a whole 24 hours and she’ll still be worrying that if someone isn’t back at this time it’s just going to make them late.

Once dressed, Dana sits as Maggie pulls the clips out of her hair along with leaves and dirt.

“If you’d come back sooner you’d have had time to bathe.”

“Sorry, I was out getting our dinner for tonight.” There’s a harshness to Dana’s tone as she says the words. She still felt a slight resentment towards her mother. She went away in many of her children’s eyes, leaving them to fend for themselves. Had it not been for Dana, Maggie would have watched all her children die of starvation and not done anything about it while she withered away herself.

Her mother’s proclaims of she was grieving weren’t a good enough excuse for Dana. They were all grieving after all, all coming to terms with his new life, yet they didn’t stay in bed all day.

Her mother was better now but Dana was waiting for the day she would disappear again. It happened once, it can happen again.

There’s a slight tug on her hair in response to her words and Dana tells herself to keep quiet.

Melissa enters and seats herself on the other stool. Her presence is sure to stop any more awkward conversations and stray comment between Dana and their mother.

“You okay?” Missy asks.

Dana nods. She tries to draw on Ethan’s strength, his optimism.

“Lasted this long, haven’t I?”

Melissa smiles. “One more year and it’s over.” She’s talking about herself. One more year and it is over for her. She no longer has to worry. She just has to suit up for the mines or follow her mother and become an official healer.

A silence passes over all three women for a moment. Dana watches her mother braid her hair in the mirror, Melissa messes with one of the clips her sister was wearing earlier. It’s quiet except for the sound of the door opening and Charlie saying hi to their brother. There’s a bit of chatter between the two by the door but nothing the girls really pay attention to.

“It’s barbaric.”

Dana’s eyes widen and Melissa stops playing with the clip. They eye each other in shock as if their mother has just broken the law or something.

In some cases, she just did.

Negative words aren’t supposed to be said about the Games, even in the safety of their houses. They’re a holiday, a festivity meant to be enjoyed and looked forward to.

At least that is the case in the Capitol and the Career Districts.

In all the others, the Games are seen, as their mother just said, as barbaric. Brutal, cruel, and vicious. To put 24 kids in an arena and watch them fight to the death is viewed with the heaviest of contempt. But it’s a punishment and a reminder of a history that can’t be forgotten.

“You should watch what you say,” says Dana calmly. “People could be listening.”

Melissa’s eyes look wearily around the room as if trying to find who could be listening. Dana doesn’t believe they are but on a day like today, she couldn’t be completely sure about that.

“You’re done,” says Maggie moving away. “I’ll make sure Bill looks presentable and then we’ll leave.”

Dana runs her hand through the braid, silently admiring her mother’s work.

“Do you really think they’re listening to us?” Melissa whispers. “Patty Bullock said that at school once. Nobody believed her but…”

“They film everything today, don’t they?” Dana says, her attention still on her hair. “Do you really think they start at 2?”

It was almost unheard of for Dana to speak like this but she had her doubts about the validity of this theory. Still, it was good to be mindful of it’s possible truth.

“You sound like a boy in my class,” says Melissa. “His nickname is Spooky.”

The door opens with Charlie telling them it’s time to go. They follow each other out, headed for the Square, and Dana doesn’t think much more of this Spooky.

#my little self-indulgence fic #hunger games au #i write

[userarchive]

Unexpected Circumstances Ch 2

Warnings: Language, talk of the job, PG13 rating? Sonny Carisi x Reader, but I’ve given her a name for the sake of my sanity lolol

**

9 hours later, you’d managed to get back to two different apartments, had a quick shower, and gathered all the information you needed from both, you were behind schedule as you walked into the SVU squad room with a box of files and evidence. The crew was already gathered around the white board, trying to figure out the bust before you burst the bubble. You softly dropped the box onto an empty desk,

“Sorry I’m late, took longer to take care of things that I thought.” You addressed Captain Benson, most of the squad’s attention was turned towards you, your chest tightened. 7 years of undercover work and you were still stressed every time you transferred units, more worried about the fact that this was Sonny’s old crew.

“Detective Sophie Montgomery.” Olivia gestured toward you, “Please treat her with respect, she may be our newest recruit from Staten Island Vice, but she’s highly recommended, she’s not new to this. You may recognize her as one of our arrests from last night, she’s been working this ring undercover for the past 7 years and she’s going to be the biggest help we have with this case.” She gave you a tight smile, stepping back from the white board. You took a breath in, surveying over what they had up on the white board.

“Okay,” You started to move pictures around on the board, “Y���all made the bust too early, which means..”Your hand shot up to the three blacked out silhouettes at the top of the board,”That you don’t have any of these three in your custody, and those three are the ones you need.” You moved a few more things around on the board, “Alejandro Martinez is the King of Manhattan, and has been for years,” Your fingers tapped the top photo, “He works with a Queen and a Prince, and he only works on the Upper East Side. These parties aren’t like you’d normally expect, the clients are high profile, actors, producers, judges, lawyers, cops, wall street guys, politicians, everything you’d hate to have to prosecute.The drugs are clean, mainly coke and ecstasy, bottles of Prosecco, Patron, high end shit, they rarely deal with underage girls, unless there’s a new pimp who they want to try out, or someone high up makes a specific request.”

You glanced around the bull pen, noticing that Dominick had joined in, your breath hitched every so slightly.  He however found himself somewhat entranced, he always enjoyed watching you work like this, your brain managed to wrap its way around things that everyone else missed, and you always seemed to know all the secrets people wanted to keep to themselves. Amanda interrupted your thoughts.

“So Martinez is the King, we know his brother is the prince, who’s the Queen?” You cocked an eyebrow at her.

“How do you think I have this much information?” You slouched against the desk next to you, “Listen, there is no way you can take down this ring with what you have from the bust. Every time there’s been a party busted the main 3 haven’t been present, or it’s just one of them and they get been slapped with a misdemeanour.  They disappear to some remote corner of the globe, but like clockwork 6 months later, manage to find each other again, give me until then and I promise you a bust, with the top three all there.” You eyes scanned over the room, “While I can work here, I cannot break my cover, I can’t have anything to do with this case, I’ll help you gain any information but I can’t testify.” You could feel Olivia sigh heavily across the room, 

“Okay, we’ll talk to the suspects, you and Carisi watch, anything that doesn’t match, you tell us immediately.”  Olivia gestured towards interrogation 1, Sonny and you following behind her before she closed the door, being alone with him skyrocketed your emotions, you shoved your hands into your pockets so he wouldn’t notice them shaking.

At first you listened in silence, then Sonny felt like he couldn’t hold it in anymore, the words came tumbling out of his mouth before he could even try to stop himself,

“Did, did you have ta do …anything ya didn’t…want to..while you were under?” His voice was so gentle you barely felt it, you could nearly feel the tears but you knew what he was thinking. 7 years under in a sex ring, it was only logical, and this was the first moment you’d had truly alone since your reappearance. Both of your faces stayed strictly facing forward into the interrogation room, attempting to pretend that you were listening to what happened in front of you. Carisi felt just as drawn to you in that moment as he did the first time he asked you to coffee, the warm smell of your perfume brought back memories of holding you close, burying your head into the crook of his neck, the briefest of grins flashed across his face before you replied.

“No. Of course not,” You risked a lightning fast glance over to him, “I worked mainly on the books, took care of the girls, nothing ever happened.” You couldn’t help yourself, admiration burning at your cheeks knowing that he was worried about you, you pulled your hand out of your pocket, giving his elbow a reassuring squeeze before dropping your hand.

The two of you watched the confrontation in front of you, not registering that you were slowly inching closer to each other with each shuffle of your feet. Sonny felt his hand taking control as it brushed against yours and immediately felt like a middle schooler on his first date again, blush creeping up his neck, but when you didn’t shy away, he found his finger looping around your left ring finger. Your heart jumped into your throat at the gesture, finally turning away from the glass to properly look at the man beside you.

“I’m sorry I was such an ass yester-“ Dominick started before you cut him off,

“You’re not the one who should be apologizing,” A shaky breath to try and keep you calm, “I am unbelievably sorry…for everything.” Looking directly into those steely blue eyes was nearly intimidating, they softened at your statement, the faintest of a smile creasing his face.

“You were just doin’ your job.” In that moment, properly seeing each other, silently forgiving previous actions, the air in the room shifted. Carisi reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair off your face, his thumb briefly stroking your jawline before running down your arm and you were completely lost in the moment gravitating towards each other. A loud bang from the other side of the glass made both of you jump, pulling apart as you were reminded where you were, shifting back into work mode. 

Sonny chuckled softly to himself, you cocked at eyebrow in his direction,

“Bella’s gonna freak.” You laughed lightly at that, 

“Your Ma’s gonna actually kill me.” 

“I’ll be sure to remind her assaulting a police officer is a punishable crime.” The playfulness slightly returned to the room, soft smiles and small laughs filling the awkwardness of the previous night.

***

As the day came to a close, you were sitting at your desk finishing up a pile of paperwork leftover from the various cases SVU had managed to arrest over the course of the day. The squad room had emptied out, and Olivia took advantage of that as she stopped at the side of your desk on her way out. You paused your writing, looking up at her,

“What can I help ya with Captain?” She faltered slightly, piecing together the words before she spoke,

“We’re…not going to have any..problems with the DA’s office are we?” It was a reasonable concern considering the only interaction she had witnessed with you and the A.D.A. was a heated screaming match followed by a physical altercation. You leaned back in your chair as you answered,

“No. That was a one time thing, I promise.” She quirked an eyebrow, not sure if she should believe you, so you continued, “You ever had someone come back from the dead?” Confusion took over Benson’s face,

“Yeah actually…one of our A.D.A.’s was shot in front of me, 12 hours later she turned up inside a car on the way to witness protection.” You watched as the emotions moved across her face, “It was a lot to process.”

“Now take all those feelings and add on about 7 years.”

“Jesus.” She muttered, shaking her head, 

“Carisi and I will be fine, it was just a lot to go through so suddenly. And…I do apologize about the whole thing, it was wildly unprofessional, not exactly how I wanted to have my first day at SVU.” Olivia gave a stark laugh to that, 

“It’s okay, just don’t make it a habit.” She shouldered her bag, “And don’t stay too late, just finish up what you can.”

“I will, night Cap.” You turned back to the last few pages as Liv exited the squad room, leaving you to quietly finish your work.

#law and order #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #sonny carisi #dominick sonny carisi #ada carisi #peter scanavino #Olivia benson #amanda rollins #odafin tutuola #law and order fanfic #law and order drabble #law and order svu drabble #sonny carisi x reader #dominick sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x ofc #sonny carisi one shot #sonny carisi series #sonny carisi fanfic #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi drabble

[churchyardgrim]

#2 from the d&d ask meme? it is a fantastic question

before they met their party, what was their main goal?

oooo excellent opportunity to plug my boy’s four page backstory that i just realized i never posted here!

tldr Silas wants to study a perfect immortal in order to defeat death, bc death insulted him once and he never got over it hghdfg

Silas Edelhart has a problem. That problem is death.

He was born to minor nobility, old money making use of their hereditary ambition to generate new money on the merchant routes, and he was lucky enough to not be his father’s preferred heir; he was allowed to take to academia, or else join some priesthood and curry favor with the lesser sons of other noble houses. He chose academia.

He was enamored with it. The libraries! The minds to learn from. The men. The women! The men. The only disappointment was that apprentice physicians did not get invited to many parties, something Silas was hard at work remedying when he was presented with an unwittingly significant patient.

A farm hand from outside the city had been delayed in reaching them for medical care, and his injuries - an accident with a plow, they were told - had gone gangrenous. He was insensible with fever, and would have lost the leg even if his people hadn't taken so long in getting him to the medics; as it was, despite amputation and efficient treatment for blood poisoning, he expired overnight, in Silas's care.

Silas was crushed. He had done everything right, double and triple checked his protocols, and still the man had died. “No one blames you, of course,” one of the senior physicians said to him, “these things simply happen.”

Maybe they ‘simply happened’ to other people, Silas thought bitterly, but he was better than that. He had decided the man would live, and his performance had been flawless! The terminity of a mere natural law to stand in the way of his will was intolerable. Incensed, Silas threw himself at his studies, dead set that it should never happen again.

Resurrection magic wasn't what he was after initially; he only wanted to keep the living where they were. But he found quickly that the popular consensus was that healing magic could only do so much, and most simply accepted its failures as they did any other misfortune. So he hunted out spells to wrench the dead back, hidden and fragmented in books his instructors only grudgingly let him read. Time would tell if they would be enough, however; none of the accounts of their use he had read gave any indication of the effects being permanent. It would be so embarrassing, to put so much work into defying death only to have his prize killed in a careless accident! He would not settle for anything less than complete immunity from death.

His practice only pushed him deeper into this conviction; plenty of his patients lived, much improved from treatment, but a few still died despite his efforts, reigniting his rage at death every time. He began to get a reputation for it, and some of his peers started tactfully funneling away those patients that seemed likely to die with or without medical care, to spare themselves his rants. Many of them thought his anger came from an insult to his skills, but this was all wrong; he knew his skills were exceptional, the failure was not his.

It is the gods’ fault, Silas decided. The gods had set this wretched law in place, to kettle and humble mortal creatures. But... no, the gods themselves are yet subject to death, have died in scores. So, death is a greater power than even them.

But in one book, ill-used and forgotten, Silas found mention of a god returning from death. A resurrection on a divine scale. And once that possibility had revealed itself, the hints between the lines of other books made themselves apparent; someone had performed that resurrection, exercised mastery over death in such a way that it left Silas’s mouth watering. How? How had it been done?

The next few months of frantic research and evasion - the concern from his tutors was enough to warn him that no one wanted him to go looking for this - led him eventually into the university’s vaults. To a broken-legged construct, dormant, containing a withered, desiccated hand. Not the hand of the godly resurrectionist, no, but the hand of someone who, certain books implied, might have been a devotee of that individual. A relic of a necromantic saint.

Silas stole it, of course he did. Made use of a debt owed by an engineer of the local guilds to repair the construct housing, and treated it as a treasured prize. Such mysteries, opening to him now with the artifact’s communion; he graduated quickly from books to practice, retreating into his own rooms to make frogs twitch and test ancient ideas on the animation of flesh. He took on fewer and fewer patients, withdrew from the society of his peers… for the most part.

Sera Mournleaf was brilliant. Sera Mournleaf was intense. And some days, Sera Mournleaf was the only thing that could distract him from his work. An elf with connections, she did him many favors in getting him subjects to work on, meat with which to test his theories, and had an insightful and sparkling mind with which to discuss the less publicly acceptable aspects of spitting in the face of death. So what if she stayed up later than him some nights, reading and rereading his notes. So what if every time she visited her aging human father she came back slumping with worry. He cannot expect things to be about him all the time!

Besides, he had little focus to spare for things not his research, now. He had been forced to take up the shovel himself, more than once, to find fresh bodies that would be more difficult to trace back to him - they keep a close eye on the university morgue, he learned better than to try that more than once. And he had had no small success, stripping corpses of their unnecessaries and stitching the most promising parts to one another, speaking to his prized relic with equal parts demand and prayer.

The results infuriated him at first. Lurching, wretched things, no better than flesh constructs, most of them had to be destroyed; that shriveled hand granted Silas holy fire as easily as it had clues to the resurrectionist arts. But he persisted, and grew to view them as necessary stepping stones towards a greater perfection. He grew more bold, more reckless, and felt himself forever on the verge of a cataclysmic revelation.

It was not to be. He was found out. The right word in the right ear brought the law crashing down on his shoulders, and he watched them burn his experiments with a guardsman kneeling on his back. It was broken, all of it, his research carted away in boxes (fewer boxes, maybe, then he thought there should have been), and Silas himself thrown in prison to scream his rage at the uncaring stone.

The trial was a farce. Somehow, Silas's family managed to find reason enough to pull half the lawyers in the city to his defense, while at the same time making it very clear that under no circumstances was he to darken their doorstep ever again. In the same two hour span his prospects went from life imprisonment to a mere slap on the wrist of exile, and then summarily informed that he had been neatly removed from the last will and testament of his every living family member. It was a very trying day.

At the end of it he was stripped of his qualifications, most of his wealth confiscated, and ejected from the city with his mouth sewn shut with wire; an archaic punishment for heresy, invoked here merely as sorry consolation on the part of the law that they couldn’t execute him outright. In the proper spirit of the thing, he should have left the stitches in place and let himself starve, and in deference to the bare truth of his crimes Silas endured it for three days before getting sick of the whole thing and cutting himself loose.

He had managed to keep his precious relic in its construct housing, the only thing worth bribing a minor official to sneak out of evidence lockup, and he quickly put distance between himself and wretched Misthaven, thinking nothing but bitter thoughts towards his betrayer. Selfish, horrible Sera; she had gotten cold feet, most likely. Come over all moral about what he had been doing, let slip to the magistrate that perhaps she knew who had been plundering the city's burial grounds at night. Well! She will just have to wait and see, won't she. Wait until he can begin his work again, reach as yet unseen heights of resurrection. Then he would return to Misthaven and enact some fitting revenge, on her and all those who had a hand in ruining him.

(Miss Mournleaf could have argued, the better part of a year later, that his unwitting parting gift was revenge enough. Babies scream like they’re being murdered, and the damn thing looks just like him. She left it with the nuns and got on with the business of saving her father.)

And so he wandered, working as a physician in small towns and middling cities, trying his damndest to reestablish his research in some capacity. But his funds never stretched that far, and neither did the patience of his neighbors; more than once he had to flee under cover of night, for misdeeds real or imagined. Most of these were unmemorable affairs, and only irritated him. Once, the mercenary paid to kill him proved a delightful match, in combat and energy, and the man made an affair of running away with Silas, and Silas ended up growing remarkably fond of Cassian Hellier, for all his unrefined brutishness. They still keep in touch, whenever either of them is in civilization long enough to hire a messenger to carry letters.

A decade passed in this fashion before Silas began to hear rumors. Travelers between worlds, fading in and out of unearthly mist, serving a genuine immortal. He seized upon these threads, passion alight again; a near perfect undead, far superior to the wretched things he had managed to raise back in Misthaven, yes. He would follow the travelers, seek out their master, see what, if anything, of the rumors were true. If they are... he would study, and learn, and replicate the results. And if not? Well, the corpse of even a lesser undead would be a beautiful thing.

#dnd #silas #boyo's a death cleric/graveyard rogue and i LOVE HIM #Anonymous

[redfoxwritesstuff]

The First Time (Clint x ofc)

Well, this took longer than I intended. Happy Friday! For those of you who are regular readers of mine, here’s a remind: Of Dust and Ashes is *not* posting this week. For any new readers, Welcome! I promise not to hurt you too much.

This is a one-shot for @avengerscompound‘s Take A Line Challenge. I tend to be far too shy to interact with many of the big writers around here but I just want to say Thank You for the endless amount of reading materials you’ve given. Header a gift from @avengerscompound​

My line was:  “Once you’re in that place, you just… hate yourself so much that.. you can’t imagine how anyone could ever not hate you…”

Warnings: Canon typical violence, mental/emotional trauma, death, gun violence, referenced child trafficking. 

Rating: Teen

pairing: Clint x ofc

Want more Clint work? Want to see what else I’ve been up to? Check out the Masterlist

The First Time

Bullets flew by her, hitting the wall behind her. Chips of brick and stone fractured and stabbed against her neck. It had been close, far too close. This was a mistake. It was all a mistake but even that thought was fractured as it flew through her racing mind.

She had to get across the room. She had to get to where they had the kids. She had to save them.

In her ear, her boyfriend Clint and Natasha were screaming. Orders were being issued and frankly, she was ignoring them all. Later, she would be punished for this, written up for it but right now, it didn’t matter. What mattered right now was those kids that were being bought and sold right in front of her. The plan be damned, she wouldn’t allow any of them to go through another day being forced to clean and slave for others.

Clint had to beg to be placed as lead on this mission. She had to push and push to earn her place on this mission. It wasn’t her first field mission but it was her first high stake mission and she was blowing it. But she couldn’t not do anything. So what if they never put her back in the field.

Before she could figure out what her next move was, she found herself looking at the back of a burly man. It felt like each heartbeat was at risk of bursting her chest open. The man held a gun and was yelling words at children, ushering them out of a back door.

They were taking the kids. If they took the kids, there was a chance that Shield wouldn’t be able to locate them before they were sold. The man slapped a small girl, she had to have been under five years old. The tiny body hit the ground.

She couldn’t hear the voices screaming in her ear piece. If asked, she couldn’t begin to say when she pulled her gun. She had no memory of leveling it. When the brittle crack of the gunshot filled the air, she was as surprised as everyone else.

Her hands ached with the recoil. The way a gunshot impact hits a human body was very different in reality than what she had seen in movies. There was a small burst of red as his neck came apart and then, that was it. He wasn’t thrown back. He simply dropped.

Children screamed. Clint yelled orders. Natasha lectured Clint.

She aimed her gun as another man rushed to the children and without thought, she pulled the trigger. Another brittle crack filled the air and another lifeless body hit the ground. The only sound that registered was the sound of her gun and the sound of the bodies falling.

Blood trickled down her cheek but she paid it no mind. Again and again, she took aim and fired. This wasn’t how the mission was planned. This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how things went.

“Nicci?” A voice called and a hand settled on her shoulder.

She jerked, eyes wide and stumbled back a few steps. The gun hit the arm of the person behind her, bashing against their arm. The man cursed but she couldn’t hear it over the sound of her blood rushing in her ears and the crying of children. Without thought. She raised the gun while alarm bells dimly roared in the back of her mind and she pulled the trigger.

There was a hollow click. She pulled it again but there was again only a hollow click.  The man reached out, yanking the gun from her hands. She couldn’t die here. She couldn’t die now. She needed to make sure those kids were safe. Protected. She needed to-

The man grabbed her wrists as she struck out at the man, dressed in black. He grabbed her and held firm but otherwise did not move as she struggled. Panic welled in her, eating into the rage that had been fueling her.

When she moved to kick him, he used her momentum to spin her around. Her back was only to him for a split second but he didn’t give her a chance to round on him. In the space of a heartbeat, his arms were around her and his large hands wrapped around her wrists. He held her tight as she bucked against him, doing everything she could to work herself free.

It was no use though. With the panic racing through her mind and the flood of adrenaline, her training was carried away.

“I’ve got you. You’re okay.” The man cooed.

The man. That voice. Clint. She’d tried to shoot Clint. She tried to shoot the man she loved. If she had any bullets left in her gun, he’d be dead and it would be her fault.

Everything clicked into place and she stilled. The world seemed too sharp. The colors were too vivid. The weight of his arms around her felt crushing as her eyes darted around.

Blood. Bodies. Death. Screaming. Crying children. Noise.

She wanted to vomit.

Natasha was ushering children out through where they had come in. In her ear, she could hear transport was going to be out front within a few minutes. She looked pointedly at Clint and Nicci could feel him nod firmly behind her, his cheek moving against her hair.

Her knees gave out. If not for Clint’s arms around her, she would have fallen to the ground. He lowered her slowly. It dawned on her many of the bodies were her doing. She’d killed them.

“What happened?” Clint asked and she couldn’t give voice to the answer. Instead, she twisted and clung to him and cried until the world went dark.

~~~~~<3

It was late. She sat in the dusty bed of the one room apartment they had been squatting in. Tomorrow, they would leave. Tonight however, Clint was taking his blows from his superiors. He’d probably be hearing about how sideways their mission had gone for at least another hour.

Natasha was likely at his side. Nicci could see them through the ripped up drapes that covered the window. They did their business on the fire escape so that she had space and peace to rest.

Clint ordered her to rest and for a while, she tried. Since she couldn’t sleep, she should have been out there with them, taking the blame and owning up to her mistakes. She couldn’t do that, though. It rolled in her gut, knowing that she was too much of a coward to do own up at them.

With every ounce of care she could manage, she stood up from the bed and moved through the room silently. Unsure of where she was going to go or what she was going to do, she slipped Clint’s hoodie over her. It draped down, covering the tank top she wore and hanging halfway down her thighs. It was long, even on him.

His scent enveloped her, offering her troubled mind some slight comfort as she laced up her heavy boots. For a moment, she considered pulling her waves back but instead she just wrapped her hand around the doorknob.

She wondered without much thought to where she was going. She made her way up the stairs at the end of the hall, climbing flight after flight as she tired to leave the cursed image of bodies on the ground behind her.

Faster and faster, she climbed. Still, the memory of what had happened that day, of what she had done that day was hot on her heels. By the time she crashed through the heavy metal door leading to the roof, she was sprinting. It closed behind her and she didn’t give it a thought.

The cold air felt like needles on her cheeks but she deserved the pain. White puffs of air rose from her mouth and nose with each hurried breath. The air stung her lungs but she deserved that too. Jean clad legs carried her to the edge. A naked palm braced against the rough stone of the roof as she swung her legs over the edge. The stone was cold under her as she sat down hard.

The frost and ice melted into her jeans but she ignored it. Her mind ran away with her, not that it had really been with her for most of the night. Tears welled in her eyes but she fought them back. She had no right to cry.

Nicci was always a woman who believed in justice. Sure, the system had it’s faults, sure it was often cracked in places but at the end of the day, it worked well enough. And she was a part of that system. There were laws, rules to obey. A system of delivering justice.

Yet, she had worked outside of that. She had taken the law into her own hands. She acted as judge, jury and executioner. There was no reason why they had to die. As much as she tried, she couldn’t remember why she took that first shot. Why did she go for a kill shot? She couldn’t remember.

It wasn’t just one person. It wasn’t just one life. God, how many did she kill? At least four, perhaps more. Did they have families? Were all of their crimes worthy of death? Did they get off easy, not being sent through the justice system.

“Careful, the fall would be nasty. Don’t slip off. That’d be a lot of paperwork.”

“And I’ve given you enough of a headache for one mission.” Nicci didn’t even bother to look at him. “How much trouble are we in because of me?”

He let out a heavy sigh as he sat down next to her. “Not as much as you seem to think.”

“That’s good.”

“Talk to me, Nicci.” He bumped his shoulder softly into hers but she still wouldn’t look at him. It was a stab to his heart but he put that hurt away. It wasn’t about him, right now. “Was today your first…”

“Yep.” Large fingers laced through hers.

“Talk to me Nicc.” Squeezing her hand, he refused to let her run away from this.

“What if,” She started, unsure if she wanted to let the thoughts and feelings out of the box she was trying so desperately to shove them into.

He waited patiently. That was what she had fallen in love with first. His quiet patience was something unexpected from someone who was a bundle of energy and always moving.

“What if they didn’t have to die?” She whispered. “What if, what if I killed people that should have lived? It wasn’t my call. It wasn’t my job.”

“You can’t go there.” She didn’t really hear his voice.

“It wasn’t my job. It wasn’t my call. Why did I do it? Am I any better than them?”

He was silent for a moment as her words were strangled off my the tension in her heart. He held her hand as a lump formed in her throat. He so badly wanted to fix this for her but he couldn’t. This was something she had to work through on her own.

“Nicci.” He waited, squeezing her hand until she finally looked up to him and the blue of his eyes captured her. They were stormy and so uniquely his. “Don’t go there.”

“Clint.”

“No.” The strength in his voice stilled her words. “Once you’re in that place, you just… hate yourself so much that.. you can’t imagine how anyone could ever not hate you… I know, because I’ve been there. You did what you did but they were bad people and kids were in danger. You did what you felt like you had to.”

“But I didn’t have to. I didn’t have to keep going.” “Why? Why did you start?”

“I don’t remember.” She admitted. It made her a liability. She’d never be allowed on a high risk mission again.

“You got close- Closer than I wanted you to get. Closer than you should have been but we didn’t have a clear line of sight. You were right, we needed to have a better view of what was going on. I didn’t want you to go alone and tried to follow but I couldn’t fit through the gap you wiggled through. When I tried again, I knocked a paint can over. That started everything. It snowballed into a firefight. You did- God, you did everything right but you were never trained to be at the head of a firefight.”

“I-”

Clint pulled her into his arms. The weight of his embrace shattered the box she had been trying to keep her emotions in. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she clung to him. He rubbed her back and whispered soft words of comfort into the crown of her head. If the strands of blonde bothered him, he didn’t show it.

“We leave tomorrow. As soon as we land again, they’ll have a therapist meet us.”

“Clint- no, I don’t-”

“You do.” There was no judgment in his voice. “It’s standard procedure after any mission that results in deaths- the whole team gets mandatory therapy.”

“Oh.”

Clint let her out of his arms and stood, ignoring the way his knee popped. “Let’s go inside? We can wrap up in blankets and get cozy. Drive Nat a little insane.”

“Okay.” With his help, she stood.

Her legs were stiff and cold but she was only just now feeling it. As they made it toward the door, he never let go of her hand. He was well aware of what a fragile place she was in. There was nothing as shattering as the first kill. He had to suffer through his alone. There was no way in hell he would let her go through it alone.

There was a thump when he wrapped his hands around the door handle and pulled. It moved only enough to make the sound yet he tried again. And again.

“It’s a one way exit.” Nicci whispered. She hadn’t thought to check when she came out onto the roof. She honestly didn’t care if she could get back in at the time. Clearly, Clint didn’t think to check either.

“Awww, shit.” His words broke her. Or perhaps, they put a few of her broken pieces together again as she doubled over, laughing far harder than she expected.

“Better call Nat to save us.” She could hardly get the words out as she tried to control her laughter. He groped his pockets with an increasingly worried look in his face.

“I forgot my coms.”

“Awww, shit.” This time it was Nicci’s turn to say what was very likely Clint Barton’s catch phrase. “Nat will find us right?”

Their eyes locked and another fragment of her heart slipped into place. A smile bloomed on their face and they laughed together. “Eventually.”

~~~~~<3

Everything Tag List: @acoholic-muffin, @theoneanna, @alexakeyloveloki, @toozmanykids, @j-u-s-t-4, @missaphrodite23, @winterisakiller, @bambamwolf87, @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @xoxabs88xox, @queenoftheunderdark, @wegingerangelica, @myoxisbroken, @faemapfae, @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123

#kate's take a line challenge #clint barton x oc #clint x original character #clint barton fanfiction #clint x ofc #clint x original female character #clint barton x ofc

[crowsvalentine]

do you have any headcanons for a time where Kaz defended one of the Dregs? Maybe one of the girls who's getting picked on by the guys??

This isn’t exactly what you asked and was darker than I intended but like here you go

Warning: mentions of sexual assault 

The boy shifted in his seat

Pulling at the shirt collar around his neck

He was sweating, even though the window was cracked open letting in the cool winter air

He’d been told to wait for Brekker inside his office

It was never a good sign, especially when it wasn’t Kaz himself giving the order

It was known that Kaz liked to make people wait

Wait for whatever doom he would bring upon them

The boy jumped when he heard the first thump of Kaz’s cane

And again when it came a second time

His eyes shut and he prayed to the saints when the door shut behind him

Kaz said nothing when he entered his office 

Just casually shut the door behind him and stared at the young man who sat at his desk

His back was turned to him, and Kaz smirked at the way the boy’s head tilted back and hands clasped in front of him

Kaz couldn’t help but think Inej should be proud he could bring faithless men to pray, even if it was out of fear

He still said nothing as he walked to the other side of the office

Paid no more attention to the boy as he picked up a tumbler of whiskey and a glass

“Care for a drink, Sander?” The boy looked as if he was about to scream when Kaz turned around

But Kaz gave no sign that he’d noticed the fear in his eyes when he set down the drink and took a seat 

“I’m not praticularly-”

Kaz tsked, and Sander swallowed air as he watched him pour the alcohol into the glass

And keep pouring, too much to be appropriate for a serving of whiskey 

Kaz filled the glass to the rim, and sat back in his chair

“Drink.” 

Sander took a sip, and then another, and when Kaz raised his eyebrows, he finished the entire thing in one last gulp, grimacing as the large amount of alcohol burned its way down his throat

“We don’t have many rules in the Dregs, but some of you really do not know how to behave” the boy stayed quiet, “we do not have many rules, but what made you think it was okay to touch a girl without her permission?” 

Kaz could see the way Sander stiffened 

Watched as his back straightened and his hands tightened their grip

“Brekker-”

“She is fifteen, Sander, how old are you?” 

“I didn’t even-”

“Eighteen? Nineteen?”

He leaned forward on his elbows, waited for an answer

Sander’s eyes moved around the office, looking anywhere but at the man who sat across from him

“I need to hear it come from you. I’m already planning on doing what I was asked to, so you can’t convince me of anything, I just want to hear you tell me exactly what you did”

Kaz had grown up in this city

Had seen the way men mistreated the girls and women on the streets

Had even seen girls in the Slat be cast aside when they spoke up against the older Dregs who’d done wrong

When Kaz took over the dregs, he vowed not to be like Haskell 

He would take allegations seriously, he would do right

When Sander said nothing, Kaz poured him another drink

“Finish it.”

Sander did, this time taking the entire glass in just a few gulps 

But the moment he set it down, Kaz only refilled it, this time emptying the tumbler 

“What is this?”

“I was told you finished a bottle of whiskey on that night. So, finish it again”

As he drank, his eyes followed as Kaz stood back up

Watched him slip his coat back on and grab his cane from where it leaned against his desk

“Follow me”

He went to stand, but a hand on his shoulder pushed him back down into the seat

“Finish the drink first.” 

He finished it

And when he stood, he instantly felt what it had done to him

He had to hold onto the edge of the desk to steady himself

Shut his eyes and shook his head trying to clear it

“Are you going to follow me or throw up on my desk?” 

He followed

Slowly, but he followed

Kaz never looked back to make sure he was behind him

Didn’t even look around as they walked out of the office, because when Sander looked around he saw the knowing looks from the females in the room

Their eyes followed them walk, and Sander couldn’t help but feel like they would attack if given the word

He stumbled when they started down the stairs

And had to hold onto a lamp post to steady himself

He looked over his shoulder as he took a quick rest

And shuddered when he found almost all the Dregs behind them

Following as if they were about to see a show

“Keep up, Sander” Kaz said, not even slowing as he turned a corner

In Sander’s mind, they were walking for an hour

In reality it had only been five minutes, right to the bridge that they usually used on their way back from the club

It’s where Kaz stood, waiting as the group caught up to him

Sander stared, confused by the location 

“Are you drunk, Sander?” Brekker asked, his eyes not on the boy as he spoke

His eyes were on the canal 

The practically drained canal below the high bridge 

He barely nodded 

“Good. Walk to the railing.” 

He did.

“Climb onto it. Use the post if you need the help”

He did.

“Now jump.”

“What?”

“I said jump”

The Dregs murmured between them

Hurried whispers and shocked looks

Kaz showed no emotion other than a tilt of his eyebrow but even that was covered by the brim of his hat

“You claimed you were too drunk to control your actions that night, so how are you without clouded judgement right now?” 

“Brekker-”

“Jump. Maybe you’ll survive and I’ll accept the fact that it wasn’t you but the drink that couldn’t perceive right from wrong”

“I’ll die!” 

Kaz said nothing, just watched as Sander looked past him at the group that now surrounded him on the ledge 

Some looked at him with pity. But most with disgust 

But no one said a word

No one questioned Kaz Brekker

They expected Sander to run

Expected him to climb down and try his luck with bolting in the other direction 

But then Brekker stepped forward 

“Tell the girl I’m sorry, Brekker, I swear I’m sorry”

It was dark that night in Ketterdam and with the bridge only lit by a single oil filled lamp everyone watched as Kaz Brekker placed his hand around Sander’s ankle

“Next time you should make sure you have nothing to be sorry for”

A collective groan chorused through the gang when Kaz pulled

And everyone flinched when Sander’s scream was silenced with a splash and a quick thud 

Later, Kaz sat in his office, ticking boxes and adding up numbers as if he hadn’t just committed a crime punishable by death

All he offered was a mumbled ‘come in’ when a soft knock sounded at his door

The girl stood quietly at the door, her hands clasped behind her as she rocked back and forth on her heels

“Spit it out”

“Thank you”

“He needed to be made an example of and that’s all I did”

“I’m still going to thank you”

“Fine”

He hadn’t even looked up from his papers

But his eyes rose when he heard her step closer

And the tiniest hint of a smile tilted his lips when she slid the bag of sweets onto his desk

“You’re actually one of the nice ones, Brekker”

And with that she turned and ran out, shutting the door behind her

#i write for soc #kaz brekker #six of crows #crooked kingdom

[danganronpa87]

Chapter 1 - Class Trial Part 1

As the announcement played, my heart dropped. We were out of time. Hopefully the other groups found something useful...

I nodded to the others as I went to make my way to the day room as Monoshima told instructed us to. I wanted to believe we'd get out of this easily... but something... something in me doubted it. Things would go wrong, and we'd all die here...

Too late to think about it now...

Once I reached the day room, I looked around, but didn't see Monoshima anywhere. Hadn't he told us to head to the day room?

Suddenly, I heard a cry, and the sound of someone falling.

Daika was on the ground, one of the bookshelves open to reveal a secret passage!

"U-uhm... I... think I found something..." He spoke softly, going to pull himself up and walk down the dark hallway the passage revealed.

I followed, the others quickly joining me. This was... strange... a secret passage in an old hospital? What purpose would something like that serve? I didn't really understand...

Eventually, we found ourselves in front of an elevator. The doors opened, and Daika stepped inside.

"Is this thing safe...?" I followed him inside.

Daika shrugged, and as everyone boarded the elevator...

We began to descend.

"...you're nervous, aren't you?" Siandi glanced up. "I can tell. But I understand... I'm nervous too."

I nodded with a soft gulp. "...this could be it... where we all die. If we get it wrong... we die, don't we?"

"Hey... we won't die, we're going to find the culprit and avenge Akemi. Alright? I'm sure the others found plenty of damning evidence." She put a hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah... we can do this..." I smiled.

The elevator clicked to a stop, the doors opening.

I took a deep breath and stepped out.

For Akemi... we would find the culprit. We'll find who did this... who killed her in such a brutal way... for her sake... and our sake... we can't lose hope!

CLASS TRIAL: IN SESSION

×××

We entered the trial room and stood at our podiums. It felt... out of place here, almost. The walls were freshly painted... unlike the walls of the normal building. They were silver in colour, large tinted windows made of multicoloured stained glass snaking from the floor to the ceiling.

It just seemed... unsettling.

Monoshima instructed us to stand at our podiums, and we followed.

"Let's begin with an explanation. You all will use the evidence you found in the murder to try and convict someone of being the culprit. If you get it right, only the culprit is punished. If not, everyone else is punished instead, and the culprit goes free. Understood?"

"...punished?" Casia spoke up.

"Executed."

Casia shifted uncomfortably at her podium, everyone else seeming uneasy.

"....so... we either find the culprit... or die..." The words sent a shiver down my spine. I... had a feeling something would go wrong.

"...where do we begin...? I... I've never had a trial before..." Shou fidgeted with her tiara, frowning as she looked around the room.

"I suggest we start with the discussion of the body," As expected, Siandi took charge. "Akemi was killed by several puncture wounds to the throat, by a small weapon. She was found in the storage room this morning, and was killed just after midnight."

"Mhm... that's what the file said." I nodded apprehensively.

"One thing I find strange... the murderer must have attempted to cover up their tracks by locking the storage room door."

"Someone... locked the door?" Neru looked surprised.

"I tend to take walks around the establishment at around 2 A.M. Something bothered me about the storage room, so I decided to check inside. It was locked."

"...why were you even outside of your room that late? That's just asking to be a suspect or a victim-!" Sora crossed her arms. "So what if you're the culprit!"

Siandi sighed heavily. "Suzuki... it's insomnia. I can't help it. Taking walks is my way of trying to tire myself back out so I can sleep."

"Still-! That doesn't prove anything!"

"Sora, I was with her. I can prove she did nothing except show me a bit of evidence she found." I held up my monopad, where I'd taken a picture of the blue hairs we'd found.

"...fine. But if there's damning evidence against you? That's your faults for not listening to me." She muttered something else, huffing.

"....anyway. Siandi and I found blue hair in the doorway of the bathroom. We think... it may have to do with the case."

Oakley looked up. "Speaking of the bathroom... I saw... a silhouette of someone? Standing in the doorway... it was dark, and I had my glasses off... but it was definitely a person."

"When did you see them?" Siandi leaned forward. "How tall were they?"

"Uhm... definitely taller than me. Maybe... 5'10 to over six foot? I saw them at around 10:15, but I soon went back into my room so I couldn't get a second glance at them."

"Thank you, Oakley, that was very helpful." Siandi smiled.

Kune seemed to perk up.

"....I would like to bring up Neru and Zekou's collective alibis. Their stories do not sit right with me." Chiyo glanced at the two. "Neru happened to just conveniently be in the storage room just after nighttime, where Akemi was murdered. Nobody saw him leave except for Zekou and maybe Akemi, and the only one who can prove his alibi is dead."

"If Neru's story was correct, Zekou was with him, he can prove Neru didn't do anyt—"

"I've watched the two and I don't doubt Zekou would lay his life down if it meant letting Neru escape."

"But he did leave the storage room-! He grabbed some wood, and we headed out before 10:30!"

"But we have no way of proving that, do we? So Neru is a suspect. He fits the descriptions both Siandi and Oakley gave as well. He has vibrant blue hair, as well as being over 6'0. Am I correct?"

"...well... yes... I'm 6'1. But I didn't do it. I swear on my life I only entered that room to grab some spare wood-!"

"You could have stabbed Akemi and left her to bleed out. I'm sure from the small wounds, she wouldn't have died instantly. You had plenty of time to cover up your tracks before leaving with Zekou."

"Listen, I-"

"You were also in the kitchen for the longest time yesterday. You could've easily slipped a fork into your pocket and used it as a weapon. We did find a bloody fork at the crime scene, after all."

"....no... I don't think that's right." Kitsuya spoke up, looking away.

"...I'm sorry?"

"It wouldn't have taken nearly 2 hours for Akemi to bleed out. From the amount of stabs in her neck, she definitely would've died sooner than she had, according to the Monoshima File."

"And you know this how?"

"....Listen. Neru is... to put this frankly... a sweetheart. He's social. If Zekou's telling the truth, he most likely made small talk with Akemi while he was in there. Neru's friends with everyone. People here like him. It doesn't sit right with me that he would just... do something like this."

"You're going off of belief alone. So... your point is?" Tomiko sighed softly.

"....besides. Zekou is constantly by Neru's side. If Neru had been hiding in the bathroom... where would Zekou have been? If he was with Neru... wouldn't Oakley have seen Zekou too?" Kitsuya turned to face them both.

"I only saw one person... I never saw anyone behind them or next to them... and when the announcement played, I followed shortly after Neru and Zekou. I can confirm they went straight for the storage room." He nodded.

"....so that's why I think Neru isn't the culprit."

"With two peoples' accounts.. I believe we have discussed enough to rule off Neru as a possible culprit." Siandi nodded. "Which going off of blue hair... leaves Shinto, Kune, and possibly Daika."

"....his hair is more greyish blue though." Casia raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't... really make sense..."

"It's only a hypothesis. We can't take any risks. Actually... Monoshima?"

"Yes?"

"Is there a time limit to how long a class trial can take?"

"I'm not sure... I'll say no. Just keep it within reason. You've already been at this for a half hour."

"We have plenty of time to discuss all possible culprits then." Siandi crossed her arms.

"...Kune, Shinto. I would like your alibis."

"I was with Oakley in his room. The only time we were separated is when he stepped out in the hallway." Kune immediately spoke up.

"I can confirm-! He was with me..."

"...Shinto, your alibi?"

"...I was in my room. Reading." He spoke coldly, making eye contact.

"Can anyone prove your alibi?"

"...No."

"Then you're still on our list of suspects... Daika, do you have an alibi either?"

Daika shook his head.

"....they're both being... quiet..." Takeshi muttered softly, shaking his head. He was still wearing his hood.

"...near silent for Shinto. Daika... has participated somewhat..." Kichiro tapped his chin. "Wait-! We haven't... even determined the murder weapon, have we-?"

"...you're right...! I completely missed that-!" Siandi crossed her arms. "We found a box of nails... and a fork... both were nearly the same size... and both were bloody." She sighed.

"....wasn't the fork bigger?" Tomiko looked up. "...than what the file said at least."

"I still think the murderer used the fork. It would be much more practical than nails." Chiyo spoke.

"I think the nails would make more sense... after all, the wounds were kinda spread out..." Neru suggested.

Siandi cleared her throat. "But the fork had more blood on it, didn't it? The nails were put back, presumably as a red herring."

"I...I agree with Neru..." Zekou glanced away.

I decided to give my opinion. "....I believe the nails are more likely to be the murder weapon... I guess we're split on what the weapon could b—"

"...split?"

Everyone looked up.

"I heard the word split. This means... we'll have a special kind of debate!"

Monoshima pressed a button.

Suddenly, we felt the podiums start to shift from under us, moving to the left to make two rows.

"...and how do we start this debate?" Siandi crossed her arms.

"Easy! Just bring up your views and try to seem like you're right."

"...okay. So, I think the murder weapon is the fork. It would be much more practical to use, since the nails are so small. Besides, even if it is a little bigger than what the Monoshima File said, it is hard to determine an exact size for the wounds. They were tiny." Siandi looked at me.

I nodded. "That is true, but it is possible to stab someone to death with just nails. But the wounds were also sporadic, and don't line up with the fork prongs."

"...but the fork had more blood on it." Chiyo tapped her foot.

"....I assume Akemi wasn't killed slowly, so the wounds weren't lined up evenly in groups of three. If she had been murdered with the fork, the wounds wouldn't be as sporadic," Kitsuya explained. "So I believe the nails are the murder weapon."

"...then why were the nails put back?" Kichiro asked.

"Easy. To cover up it being the murder weapon and making the fork seem like the obvious choice." Tomiko leaned on her podium.

"....I believe you are right." Siandi smiled. "So, the nails are the murder weapon... that does not get us closer to our culprit, but it does help."

I smiled back. "Let's go back to the topic of the blue hair-"

"Wait. I have an idea." Kitsuya interrupted.

"...?"

"....what if... Akemi herself... was the culprit?"

"A suicide-? That makes no sense." Chiyo huffed.

"In fact, suicides have a special rule! If a person does take their own life, the person they were closest to will be executed in place of a culprit."

Our monopads made a beep, signaling a new rule had been added.

"...how does it not make sense-?! She could've stabbed herself with the nails-!"

"So she camped out in the storage room for three hours? It doesn't make sense. Why was there someone waiting in the bathroom then? Where did the bloody fork come from?"

Kitsuya went silent.

"....anyway. I think I have an idea of who the culprit is..." Siandi blinked.

"...Already?" Takeshi looked up.

"....Retku, I'm pretty sure you know what I'm about to say."

#danganronpa 87 #danganronpa #danganronpa87 #fanganronpa #neru akiaro #zekou nakamura #shou mouri #honoma ochi #shinto kobayashi #akemi saito #sora suzuki #siandi fukuhara #retku sovyak #tomiko miyata #tomiko #takeshi kohima #daika sugiyama #casia aiko #kichiro yamashita #kichirou #kitsuya minsaki #chiyo takahashi #kune hayashi #oakley yokota #oakley

[toloveawarlord]

Ch. 1

Pairing: Elaine x Isaac

Another suitor x suitor pairing but instead of having a toddler story, hers is centered around her being a late teenager, 18 years old.

Tagging my partner is crime: @plumpblueberry

Moonlight lit the worn path through clean cut grass. Silent footsteps guided by the light leading the adventurer back to the home that sat just ahead. A hum filled the cloudless night sky, a lullaby spoken in a tongue foreign to the land that listened.

The clunky satchel didn't dissuade the lithe girl from twisting on the ball of her foot to turn gracefully in time with the song. Her destination darkened on the bottom floor, per usual. Both her parents unawares to her tardiness to return home at the hour designated proper for a young lady her age.

Sliding the glass pane open, the girl set the satchel on the ground before swiftly climbing in as well. The click of the window nearly silent. She dusted her hands off. The grin on her lips short lived.

"What was the next step in your plan, meisje?"

Little girl.

A word only spoken when the child had gotten herself caught.

Her shoulders tensed, body frozen mid dip to retrieve the bag full of treasures. Her head turned; violet eyes not so impaired by her strands of copper hair that the figure of her father cloaked in darkness would be obscured. "You're home early."

"Deflecting won't remove you from trouble, Elaine. You know the hour that you're meant to be home passed a while ago." Theo crossed the room, lighting the room with the lamp on the table.

This had been her third outing in the past two weeks that had brought her back in the middle of the night covered in dirt and cobwebs.

Elaine swiped a scroll that stuck up from the satchel. Dust rose from the parchment as she rolled it open to see the contents. "This is an original, isn't it?"

Despite its complexion marred by dirt, the paint underneath showed evident. Elegant brush strokes across the page.

Theo gave a sigh, raising an eyebrow. "Are you trying to bribe me?" Her antics never changed. He was hardly surprised.

"Is it working?" Elaine asked, wiggling the parchment enticingly with a cheeky grin. His line of work had thoroughly prepared her how to check for authenticity. She could spy a worthy piece of art with only a mere glance.

"Where did you find this?"

His words met with silence and her gaze fell away in avoidance.

Theo snatch the scroll from her hands and gently gripped her chin, drawing her head up so she had to face him. "Answer me, meisje." Her hesitation could only mean the answer would not be well received.

Violet irises tried to avoid his intense gaze but continued to be drawn in. "The old Vandwell House." The recognition flashed through her father's eyes and the girl could have guessed his thoughts on the matter.

"You've been going that far out of town? Alone?" The gruff to his voice both that of displeasure and of concern. Vampire or not, she was still only a child, one that refused to listen time and time again.

Elaine managed to pry herself from his grip, arms clasped behind her back. "The ones in town are empty." By her own hands, evident by the treasures and trinkets filling her own bedroom.

"Elaine-" Before Theo could begin to scold the unruly copper haired girl, the third member of their family spoke up on her behalf.

"Now, now, Theo dear." The light tone meant to irritate the other man and causing a light giggle from the girl. "She's back, safe and sound. That's all that matters. We've got a proper adventurer for a daughter."

Elaine lit up at those words. "See? Papa gets it." She bound up to his open arms, elated to see him from his chambers for the first time today.

Arthur had locked himself away, asked not to be disturbed. His hunger had drawn him from the desk, and what a delight it was to stumble upon the situation at hand. "Did you find anything interesting, peanut?"

"Not too much, but I only cleared a few rooms on the first floor. But I did come across an old music box that I hope Leo can fix." It made no sound when opened, the melodic voice snatched away by time etching away the mansion it had been discovered in.

His gloved hand caressed her cheek, swiping a bit of dust away. “Go and wash up. I'll hazard a guess that you're more than a bit peckish."

Elaine gave a nod, reluctant to remove herself from his warm embrace. Her throat did feel parched, having been gone all day without having a sip of rouge. She rested her cheek against his chest, letting her eyes slide closed for just a moment.

“Tired yourself out, did you?”

Theo gave a sigh, eyeing the two. “She’s avoiding being in trouble. No amount of clinging to him is going to cover up the fact that you came home 2 hours after your curfew.” His worry sown across his features. He’d returned home to her not there, and Paris was not kind at night.

“This sounds like a discussion we can have at our midnight snack. You get cleaned up,” Arthur replied, ushering their daughter away, out of earshot of the two adults discussing what to do about their daughter.

***

By the time she returned, freshly showered, Elaine only found Arthur in the kitchen waiting for her. Not a good sign. A glass of rouge sat filled to the brim, glistening under the light. She hummed at the first sip. It tasted delicious after a long day.

An awkward air hung over the pair. Arthur was analyzing her every movement, every glance his direction. She didn't understand. With his coffee cup in hand, the writer addressed her with one simple question. "What if next time, you don't return home to us at all?"

Her violet eyes rose up in clear shock. Not remotely what she had expected to hear at all. No words came to mind for the longest time. The girl sat in the kitchen alone, with an empty glass beside her.

Exploring abandoned homes had become her main source of entertainment. The thrill of finding a trinket left behind by the old owners and discovering secrets about the residents was what she liked to do. It was like a treasure hunt without a map, making it all the more satisfying. What was so wrong with that?

Chewing on her lip, Elaine let out a groan. This argument of her being home by a certain hour, or her exploring on her own, or even running off alone for any reason, came around at least once a week. She’s a pure-blooded vampire.

But that wasn’t quite true.

If it were, then her heart wouldn’t thump so hard in her chest, guilt pumping through her body.

At the very least, she needed to apologize.

Arthur had gone back to writing, but Theo had gone on to the master bedroom. She lingered in the doorway, watching him reading the large book in his hands. The engraved Dutch title hard to discern from the angle. Wringing her hands together, Elaine steeled herself into the oncoming conversation.

The bed dipped with her weight, creaking loudly until she’d settled crisscross beside him, facing the headboard that Theo leaned against. Silence filled the space between until the book shut with a soft thud. “Did you come here just to stare at me?” Theo asked.

Her head shook, eyes darting around as she thought about the right words to say. “I thought I was coming to apologize.” Strangely, those few words couldn’t roll off her tongue as easily as before.

His silence prodded her to continue.

“I don’t understand why it’s a big deal. Vampires shouldn’t have to live by human standards.”

Theo waited a second more to see if she had anything more to say before giving a response. “You aren’t living by human standards. These are our standards, as your parents. We’re responsible for you. Being a vampire has nothing to do with it.”

“I’m not going to get hurt. Why can’t you trust me?”

“Can you promise that? Honestly, can you promise me right now that you will never get hurt scavenging through old houses that are falling apart?” The answer already clear in an almost rhetorical question.

Elaine bit down on her lip. She wanted to scream yes, if only to prove him wrong about the rules. Flashes of times in those houses came to mind. Floors had given out, walls crumbled, threatening to cave in the entire structure. She had good sense to stay away from those parts of the house, but that didn’t always mean that she wouldn’t risk it for something interesting.

“This isn’t about trust, vogeltje.” The calm in his voice as he called her nickname, a Dutch form of little bird, brought her gaze back up to his.

What if next time, you don’t return home to us at all?

Those words finally made more sense to her. They worried about their daughter, not a pure-blooded vampire.

“I’m sorry.” This felt like the first time she’d said those words and actually meant it. Flippantly using them to evade trouble in the past. She didn’t like that the rules hindered her adventures, but at least, the girl understood that they were there to keep her safe.

Theo placed his hand on top of her head, ruffling her damp hair. “You’re still in trouble for breaking your curfew.” He could see the remorse in her eyes, but rules were broken, and consequences still needed to be passed.

“About that-” Elaine flashed a grin. “Instead of confining me this boring house for a week, what if-” 

“Elaine.” Had she not learned her lesson about negotiating her punishment?

Her lips pursed in a pout. “At least let me finish what I was going to say before you say no.” At his nod, she continued, “Let me come to work with you.”

That had not been what the art dealer had expected to hear. She’d never showed any interest in his work, unless she found a painting to give him. He’d taught her well enough to tell a good piece apart from garbage. “You want to what?” Theo asked, suspicious of her motives.

“Exactly what I said. I’ll tag along as your assistant or whatever.” Anything would beat being stuck in this house with nothing to do. She had a good eye for art, and it wouldn’t hurt to learn more. And where better to learn than from the best.

Theo couldn’t give an answer right away. He observed her features, finding her to be quite serious despite how she typically avoided hard work. He decided to test her resolve on the matter. “You won’t get to sleep in.”

“I know.”

“I’ll make you work. There won’t be any slacking off or getting off easy because you’re my kid.”

Elaine bobbed her head. “I know. I know. Say yes already!” Her confidence of already knowing the outcome showed. Really, how hard could it be?

Theo gave a sigh but relented. “Alright, I’ll bring you along. If you can work your way through one week, then I’ll reconsider your house arrest for breaking curfew.” He nodded his head toward the door. “Now get out of here. You have to be up at 7.”

Her soft squeal of a thank you made him chuckle. Elaine threw her arms around his neck and said her goodnight before skipping from the bedroom, content with the outcome. Worst case scenario, she’d suffer all week with doing manual labor and having her father order her around. She could do it.

What could possibly be hard about art dealing?

Elaine and Theo are going to have a good time bonding and arguing while working together.

#she is definitely his daughter though #even if not blood related #arthur finds it hilarious how similar they are #ikemen vampre #ikevamp #ikevamp theo #ikevamp arthur #theo and arthur #and their daughter #elaine odette doyle #truth in simplicity #chapter 1

[chobit92]

Home: Jacob Seed/OC Chapter 28

Warnings: Violence, Child Abuse, Rape, Drugs 

 (2 days later: Friday: Faith is sitting in Joseph’s church arranging flowers into bunches. Joseph is writing in a book. Just then Lexi walks in with a man.). Lexi: Faith your sister has agreed to join us. Faith: What? She has? How do you know? Man: You need to see this. (The man turns on the TV and tunes it to a channel. Faith gasps as she sees Mara on the screen sat in a chair. Her surroundings are dark but she can just make out where she is.). Faith: Is she... Man: John’s bunker. Lexi: Will saw it in the canteen he just came and told us. (Faith stands up and watches as Mara looks at the camera.). John: Are you going to confess? Mara: Yes. John: You will confess and you will atone? Mara: Yes. (Faith watches in shock as John moves into view. Faith gasps as John grabs Mara’s hair and yanks her head back. She then stares as John jams the screwdriver into her sisters neck making her bleed.). Lexi: John ain’t playing. Man: She don’t look too scared though. John: Confess. Mara: Just remember that you asked for it.

(John takes the screwdriver away from Mara’s neck and disappears from view. Mara sighs and looks at the camera.). Mara: Um...I don’t know if there’s a specific way of doing this. Things your meant to say. I’m just gonna start at the beginning. (Joseph is looking at the TV. Will walks in.). Will: Have you seen it? Faith: Yes. I don’t understand why he is broadcasting it. Will: I don’t know. Mara: Some of you may think I’m mad. Some of you might think I’m a monster. Maybe some of you will understand what I did. I was born to parents who did nothing but sell drugs and abuse. My mother always wished that she had just had an abortion. I was never wanted. By her or my father. She kept me locked in the basement. Coming into this bunker today was the hardest thing I’ve done in years. All I can see is that basement. Still hear my mom screaming about what a mistake I am. How useless I am. She believed that I was the devil. Hell maybe she was right. Faith: No sis she wasn’t. (Will rubs Faiths shoulder.). Mara: She would whip me until my back was red raw. She would starve me for days and give me no water. It was dark down there and damp. I was always cold, always hungry and always in pain. Alone in the dark. (Tears roll down Mara’s cheeks. Faith is also crying. Will puts his arm around her.). Will: You know what she did don’t you Faith? Faith: Yes. (Faith lets out a sob and buries her head in Wills Jacket.). Mara: I was never allowed out of the basement because my mother didn’t want anyone to know I existed. In fact nobody did. My mother never told anyone she was pregnant. She never went to a doctor. She gave birth at home. She said it was agony. That I was a little bitch for putting her through so much pain. As if I had somehow decided to be there. She told me that the pain was Gods punishment for giving birth to the devil. She was delusional. Probably all the drugs she took. I was surprised when my father let me out of the basement. It was a strange experience. Being kept underground then suddenly seeing the rest of the house. The window and...Outside. It was confusing. My dad was friends with the priest who used to run the church in Falls End. Some priest he was, turned out he liked children. He liked them a lot. Will: Ah hell. (Joseph is watching the screen with interest.). Mara: I didn’t like him second I saw him. The way he looked at me. The way he spoke. My dad told me to help my mom so I went to the living room. Mom was there and I helped her clean the living room then I was shoved back down in the basement. My sister wasn’t kept in the basement like me. She had her own room. I thought she was loved and cared for. John: You were jealous of her? Mara: No. Worse than that. I was happy for her. I thought she was loved and cared for. She wasn’t. Least in the basement I was left alone most of the time. My baby sister went through hell and I didn’t even know anything about it. I had no clue. That priest came down to the basement one day and started touching me. I had found a large nail, I was using it to draw on the wall. I stuck it in his face, took a load of skin off and left him with a nasty scar. He screamed. My mom came down and got real angry with me. Called me ‘Devil’ again. Then she carved the word into my back. I was six years old. Man: Damn. (Will lets out a breath. Faith is still crying.). Mara: My sister sometimes visited me in the basement. She would sneak me a drink or some food. I remember being so happy that she was okay. She was never dirty, always dressed nice. While my parents were out we would sit and talk to each other for ages. We would play games and cuddle. Over time me and my sister grew close. She was sad that I was kept in the basement. But I looked forward to her visits. When I was a teenager I was finally let out of the basement. I think my mom hoped I would leave the house and not come back. My father told me to piss off to my face. ‘Go on go you little bitch’ he spat. I finally got to see the world. Well...Hope County anyway. It was hard at first. Especially talking to people. But I met some nice people who became my friends. Most people knew who my parents were. They were the ones that dealt drugs to everyone. Even young kids who were still in school. I learned that the drugs my dad sold had already killed two kids. I wondered why the police hadn’t arrested him. Turned out the Sheriff at the time and my dad were best mates. Just like he was best mates with the priest too. Could get away with whatever he wanted. I finally thought that things could be okay. I’d managed to make friends and I was finally out of the basement. I still had to sleep down there though. I thought that once I was a bit older I could take my sister and go. Get our own place together. It’s amazing what you think is possible when you’re a kid. When I was fourteen my sister told me that she was being bullied at school. She showed me bruises on her ribs and a cut on her arm where they’d attacked her. So I went up the school when it finished and waited. I saw my sister walking out and then I saw them. Three of ‘em. One of ‘em grabbed her and pulled her hair while the other one pulled out a little flick knife. I marched over to them and punched the first one. I got the knife off the other one and stuck it in his arm. He was crying like a baby. The other one ran off. Oh my mom was furious when she heard what I’d done. Locked me back in the basement after whipping me again. The boys didn’t bully my sister again though. When I was fifteen my parents went away for the weekend. They took my sister with them and left me on my own. (Mara sighs.). Mara: It was Saturday night and I was looking around the house. I’d found my dad’s whiskey and decided to have some. I was looking around upstairs and that’s when I found them. In my parents’ wardrobe there was a box of tapes. I was curious as to what they were, they didn’t have anything written on them. Curiosity killed the cat though right? I couldn’t believe what I was watching. My baby sister being violated over and over again by my dad and that priest. My mom was there watching. Who does that to their daughter? In the first video she could only be about six. There were over thirty tapes. All filled with images of my baby sister being raped repeatedly. I couldn’t watch it all. I went to the church in Falls End. He looked surprised when he saw me. He looked even more surprised when he saw the kitchen knife I’d bought with me. (Will sighs. Faith is still crying quietly.). Mara: I lost count of how many times I stabbed that dirty raping bastard. I should have cut his dick off. He had this ornate cross on his table. I don’t really know what made me do it but I thought it was fitting. I picked up the cross and shoved it through his chest. Then I went back home. The priest wasn’t found until the morning. Sunday. Church day. Not that day. Church was closed, surrounded by crime scene tape. Who would do such a thing? (Mara laughs.). John: You let your anger take control of you. Your sin is wrath. Mara: Yeah. You can put the screwdriver down though. I ain’t finished yet. I walked around town and listened to what everyone was saying about the grisly murder. I even heard that people were coming forward to say that the priest had abused them. He hadn’t just done it to my sister. He was a paedophile. Not a priest. I ended up hanging out with Wheaty in the woods. I didn’t get home until late. My parents were back by then. They had heard about their beloved friend being killed. My father had lost his temper. He thought it was all my sisters fault. My father was worried that they would find drugs in the church and other things...When I came home my father had beaten my sister so badly I could hardly recognise her. She was curled up in the corner of the lounge sobbing. Her little dress was covered in blood. She had a lot of broken bones, her jaw, her nose. She was broken. So was I, I guess. I was tired. I’d had enough. Seeing my sister like that was awful. I was supposed to protect her. I had one fucking job. I failed. My dad noticed that I was back and he started shouting and swearing at me. Then he said that he would drown me first. Mom was upstairs running the bath. She was going to drown my sister. (Faith is sobbing.). Mara: I wasn’t going to fail her again. I went to the kitchen and got the knife. Same one I used on the priest. I went back to the lounge and my dad just stared at me. I told him I was the one who killed his friend. Gave him what he deserved. He said he always knew I was a head case. That I wasn’t normal. That I was different. A mistake. He said I was nothing but demon spawn. So I thought alright then...I’ll show him then. My father started yelling that I was done for now. He’d drown me himself and nobody would know coz nobody really knew I existed. I then did the unthinkable, the unforgiveable, the ultimate sin. I started stabbing my father. Will: Jesus. Man: My God. Mara: My sister could only watch in horror screaming from the floor as I stabbed daddy again and again. My mother came flying down the stairs and she screamed when she saw what I had done. She pointed at me and screamed ‘I knew it, Devil’. I guess you can’t kill a monster without becoming one. I stabbed my mother repeatedly before slitting her throat. My sister was crying and I hugged her and told her everything was going to be fine. I called an ambulance for my sister. When they saw my parents they were horrified. The police arrived a little while later. My sister was screaming for me. Begging for me not to be taken away. I told her I loved her and that I’d see her again. I thought I was going to prison but oh no. They thought I was insane. They found out I’d killed the priest too. I was placed in a psychiatric facility. I was released when I was eighteen. I was stunned. I never thought I’d see the light of day again. Seemed a bit stupid to me. I told them I’d been locked in a basement for years. So what do they do? Why they lock me in a tiny room of course. Coz that makes sense. I had nowhere to live and no money so...I lived on the streets. I was sleeping in an abandoned apartment block that had turned into a den for junkies and gang members. The leader of the gang was always there dealing drugs. One day though I noticed that he had two young girls handcuffed to an old bed with a rusty frame. I spoke to them. Turned out they had run away from their abusive parents. Sisters. They reminded me so much of my sister and me. They were just trying to get somewhere better. They didn’t though. Ivan was the leader of the local gang. Into all kinds of shit. Nobody messed with him. Those that did ended up dead. One of the girls was seventeen the other was twelve. I didn’t want to get involved. I was on my own and had myself to look out for. But later that night I saw a man in the room with Ivan and the girls. He was handing Ivan a large wad of cash and the girls were crying. Their trousers were around their ankles. Ivan was selling them to dirty pervs. Pimping them out. I weren’t having that. You should know what happened next John. Seeing as you know me well by now. John: You killed them. Mara: Yeah. That’s where I got the revolver from. I took it from Ivan. Then I used it to help the girls escape after stabbing Ivan and the perv. One of Ivan’s mates always watched the door of the crack den. Knew he wouldn’t just let us leave. He had a gun too. He raised it to shoot me but luckily for me I was quicker. Shot him in the head. His blood spattered the wall and I didn’t even care. I still don’t. I gave the girls the money that perv had given to Ivan and told them about a shelter I knew about that wasn’t far. I hope they went there. I hope they were okay. I met Franky not long after and we hung out for a bit just trying to get by on the streets. Until she buggered off. Then I met Bonnie and Alex and stayed with them. I kept looking for my sister. Came here seven years ago then again four years ago. I always hoped to find her. I hoped to see her again and I did. Came back here and met up with her again. Killed more people. Thirteen members of the Whitetail Militia. Also killed that guy that came to your ranch and threatened to shoot us. It gets hard to keep count after a while. I am a killer. That’s it. Now I am going to be that psycho girl again that everyone looks at funny. The girl that killed her parents. Coz you know there must be something wrong with me right? I must be insane. Normal people don’t kill people. Except they seem to forget that way back when they probably did. All the time. People have always killed people. We’re good at destruction. It’s what we do. (Mara finally stops talking. She just sits there looking blank.). John: That is your full confession? Mara: That’s everything. John: No other sins? Mara: Not that I know of. Ain’t got anything to be greedy with and I have no Lust in my life. Ain’t never even had a boyfriend. Never will neither. Not now. Can’t have much pride coz I hate myself. John: Hm. I see. (The camera moves and John’s face can now be seen. He smiles.). John: I told you dear Faith that your sister would join us. That she would say yes. (Faith gasps.). John: You might not want to watch this next part though. (The video feed suddenly disappears and ‘No Signal’ now displays on the blank screen. Faith lets out a whimper and Will wraps his arms around her.

 ---Jacob sits in the makeshift mess hall of the veterans center. Terry came racing into his office telling him about the broadcast. Everyone sat watching as Mara confessed to John. Jacob couldn’t stop staring at her. He tells himself that he is intrigued by her. The way she has killed without hesitation that’s all that draws him to her. Nothing else. She would probably be no good to him anyway. Not really. Not like his men. She wouldn’t be able to pass the trials. She is pretty though. He can’t deny that. So beautiful. He tries to remember what she felt like. What she smelled like but he can’t. He barely remembers much about that night. Only that he fucked her. That she cried his name and called him a grizzly bear. He gets up and goes back up to his office. He sighs as he flicks through the days reports. He didn’t get much sleep last night and he is tired. He struggles to sleep. He didn’t struggle when Mara was sleeping next to him though. He didn’t have any nightmares either. He sighs and picks up the report about the latest Militia sightings.

  ---John walks into Josephs church. Faith looks up her eyes red from crying. Joseph stands up and greets him.). Faith: Why did you broadcast it? John: Your sisters confession? I thought you would want to see it. Faith: How did you get here so quickly? John: I didn’t. Faith: But we were just watching you with my sister in your bunker. John: That was filmed two days ago. It wasn’t live. Faith: Two days...Where is she now? John: I don’t know. After her atonement I baptised her in the river. I also gave her the Edens Gate tattoo. She wanted it on the back of her neck. Then she left for the Whitetail Mountains. She said she was going to collect her things then meet up with you in the Henbane. Faith: I haven’t seen her. John: Hm. I’m sure she’ll be back. She wouldn’t leave you. She cares for you too much. Faith: I know.

 ---11.23pm. Mara stumbles into the bathroom. She groans in pain and wipes the dirty mirror and pulls her top down. She stares at the word ‘Wrath’ carved across her chest. She sighs. Now she hates her body even more. The word ‘Devil’ on her back along with all the scars from the whip now this. Tears sting her eyes. John has serious issues. He enjoyed slicing into her skin. He enjoyed the way she cried out in pain. She didn’t mind the pain. She has found that she likes it. That’s why she cuts herself sometimes. But she didn’t scream though. Wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. She still isn’t sure about John. He seems to honestly believe that he has helped her. Saved her. She almost wishes he had drowned her in the river. For a moment she thought he was going to. He held her under way longer than was necessary. She winces as she runs a damp cloth over her chest. Damn is it sore. She also rubs the back of her neck which itches slightly from the latest tattoo John has given her. The black cross logo of Edens Gate. There’s no going back now. She is officially a member whatever the hell that means. She goes back to the kitchen area and puts her things in her holdall. She doesn’t own much. Her drawings and pens, some clothes and shoes, the iPod that Franky gave her that she can’t charge. She grabs the blanket from the bed and shoves it into the holdall. She just about manages to fit it in there. She then slings the holdall across her body but it rubs against the scarring on her chest. She moves it so that it is over her shoulder. She takes one last look around the trailer. She sighs then opens the door. She stops dead when she sees several militia standing outside with their guns aimed at her.). Man: Time to die peggie bitch!

#Far Cry 5 #My Writing #Writing #Jacob Seed #Jacob Seed x Mara Jessop #Mara Jessop #Faith's sister #Faith Seed #John Seed #Joseph Seed #original characters