#& strangle them with her own hands. Death Watch? she wants to MURDER them all for making her people so scared

[runningmunson]

My Fierce Lady

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 1.4k Summary: You are the second wife of Aemond, him already having a daughter. When a man tries to attack, you defend yourself and his daughter. Aemond makes it there after the attack and comforts you. Warnings: Swearing, violence, brief mention of pregnant reader, man attacking reader, murder, blood, assumption of attempted r*pe, angry/protective aemond, angst

PART 2

You were the second wife of Aemond Targaryen. His first wife died soon after she gave birth to their daughter, Maelehra. As terrible as it sounded, he wasn’t that heartbroken over her death but sad for Mae. He didn’t want to marry her, and they never truly got along, only doing it to please his parents and to perform his duty.

They gave him some time until his mother decided it was enough. She believed he needed a new wife and for his now 4-year-old daughter to have a mother once more. His mother chose you to marry her second son. You were from a smaller noble house and known for your timid and kind nature; a perfect match to balance out the blunt and confrontational Targaryen.

You had been married for close to a year. While your and Aemond's relationship had slowly blossomed into love, you quickly grew close to his young daughter. Your favorite thing to do together was to practice your needlework while she sat and watched, which led you to today.

Aemond had been gone since the morning, leaving you to entertain the girl. It was a colder day, so you decided to stay inside your chambers close to the fire. Maelehra played with toys on the floor while you sat and stitched a flower. The sound of banging on the door drew your attention.

Unexpectedly, an unknown man with dirty clothes and greasy hair threw the door open and looked all around the room before he caught the sight of the both of you.

“What is the meaning of this? You will tell me who you are right this instant,” You questioned the man who barged into the room. The glint of silver armor caught your eye as you noticed the guard stationed outside your room was slumped against the wall. Your blood ran cold.

You stood from your seat and grabbed Mae by her shoulders as you shoved her behind you. You may not have birthed her, but you have come to claim her as your own, and you would die before you let anyone harm Aemond’s daughter. “You stay away from us, I am warning you. Leave now, and you may yet get out with your life.”

The man chuckled. His lips turned to a sick smile as he twisted a dagger in his hands. He moved closer to you. “How helpless do you think the young prince will feel when he finds his daughter, wife, and unborn child dead in his own chambers?”

“Run, Maelehra!” You screamed at her as the man charged at the both of you. He held out the dagger, making a long slice from your cheekbone to your chin. You let out a cry. Mae dashed toward the open door, but the man was quick enough to grab the collar of her dress. He wrapped his arms around the little girl and picked her up.

You grabbed a heavy goblet and smashed him on the head. The man let go of Mae, and she ran out the door. You took this moment of distraction to go for the dagger your husband kept on his bedside table.

You were about to reach it when you were thrown onto the bed. The man turned you on your back, putting his weight on you so you couldn’t move. You tried to scream for help, but his hand found your throat silencing you. He began to tear your dress while his hand tightened his grip.

You started to see black, no air able to reach your burning lungs. Tears clouded what you could see. This was how you would die, being defiled and strangled by a man you didn’t know.

In another part of the Red Keep, Maelehra searched for help and managed to come upon her grandmother, the Queen, and Ser Criston Cole. She told them a man was hurting you, and that was all it took for them to run to your aid. They called a servant boy over to go find Aemond.

Your mind went to your husband. No- this was not the way you would die. You kicked and scratched at the man, not wanting to go down without a fight. With what little strength you had left, you reached for the dagger, fingertips barely able to touch the cold steel. You finally managed to get a hold of it and slammed it right into the man’s neck.

He immediately let go. Blood poured from his neck and mouth. You could hear a gurgling sound as you shoved him off you. His body fell to the floor with a thud.

Criston and Alicent ran into the room to find you on all fours on the bed attempting to catch your breath. The Queen let out a scream when she saw the dead man. She rushed to you when she saw the blood all over your dress and hands, thinking the worst, “My gods! Go get the maester!”

---

“Prince Aemond! Come quick! Something happened to your daughter and Lady (Y/N),” the servant boy ran out into the courtyard where Aemond and Aegon were practicing their fighting.

Without thinking, Aemond grabbed his sword from its previous place on the ground. He followed the servant boy out the door before sprinting past him once he realized where he was going. Aegon followed close behind.

He reached his chambers to see a dead guard on the ground. When he walked into the room, he frantically searched for his daughter, finding her in his mother's arms. He ran to her and pulled her into a hug.

“She saved me, papa,” Mae yelled excitedly, still too young to understand the gravity of the situation.

“She hasn’t spoken a word, and she will not stop looking at him,” Alicent said to her son, looking toward your place on the bed. He turned around to look at you for the first time. Sure enough, your eyes were trained on the dead man who lay on the floor, blood pooling around his body. He handed his daughter over to his mother and walked to where you sat. He yelled out, venom dripping in his voice, "I will have the head of whoever plotted this heinous attack!"

“Move out of the way,” he said forcefully to the maester looking you over. The maester stepped aside so Aemond could take his place. He grabbed your face tilting it toward his own, “Don’t look at him, look at me.”

You tore your gaze away to meet the eye of your beloved husband. “Aemond,” you croaked out, your bruised throat sore when you spoke. You began to sob, finally allowing yourself to process what just happened “I-I killed him.”

“Shhh, I know. Just let it all out, I have you now,” Aemond said. He took a good look at your disheveled state. Anger seared through his veins when he saw your dress torn and bruising on your thighs. His jaw was clenched, “Did he…”

Aemond couldn't even finish his question; he was seething. You shook your head no, knowing exactly what he was asking. He pulled you close, hand stroking your hair. He could feel you shaking and saw the dagger still tightly in your hand. He pried your fingers away, letting it fall to the ground with a clatter.

He turned to the maester, “Is she alright? And the babe?”

“Yes, other than that cut and the bruising on her neck and legs, they both appear to be fine,” the maester answered.

“I don’t wish to be in this room any longer, please,” you spoke quietly, pleading to your husband. He nodded his head and slowly helped you up. His body was placed in a way to make sure that you could not take a glance at the man who attacked you.

Once you were cleaned and settled in another room, you made your way to the bed, exhausted and sore from the events.

“Im proud of you. You were very brave today, my fierce lady,” Aemond said, pulling you tighter in his arms. His hand found its way to your swollen midsection; a feeling of comfort washed over the both of you as you felt the child squirming around.

“I don’t feel very brave. I was terrified I was going to die, terrified that you were going to lose your children and wife in a single day. What if they come back?” Your voice wavered out of fear.

“I will not allow that to happen; do you understand me? I wouldn’t have been so merciful to give him a quick death. I will kill anyone who lays a hand on any of you. You are mine to protect, now and forever,” Aemond kissed your forehead, holding you until you drifted off to sleep safe and sound while he stayed awake with nothing but vengeance on his mind.

[bbyplutosblog]

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

ᴄᴀᴛᴄʜ - ²² (ᴀʀᴍᴀɴᴅᴏ ᴀʀᴇᴛᴀꜱ x ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

“𝙸𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚢 𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚘𝚏 a 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑.”

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

WARNINGS: Death, murder, violence, trauma, sociological behavior, sexual situations.

CHAPTER FIVE: “BORN TO DIE.”

Chapter IV

"What you say?" Armando tilted his head, confusion sand-blinding his dilated russet-colored eyes. He eased back a stride, setting a circumspect distance between the two of them.

"Armando, I can't bear to see a man as smart as you play stupid."

"Do I look like a fuckin' idiot, bruja?" Solana cackled with laced asperity.

"I think the bruja would be your dead mother." He snarled and angled the gun at her once more. He was in headshot territory now. All he had to do was pull the trigger.

"Watch it. I wouldn't want to fuck up that pretty face of yours." 

"That's a threat I've heard a million times. Look, it's simple. All I'm asking is that you lead me to the bunker your mother had built for Basílo, and I'll be out of your hair. Now, do you know where that is?"

"Maybe, but how do you expect a wanted criminal to get you there?"

Solana reached for the stuffed bookbag by her feet and chucked it on the bed, the movement ejecting its assets onto the bedding: passports, burner phones, cash straps, the whole nine yards. "We have everything we need for a clean break right here. I'll do the majority of the heavy lifting. The quicker I get this done, the quicker you'll be back to your new life." 

Armando inspected the movables on the bed, gears whirring in his mind. Why would his father risk his son's freedom for this woman? Could a woman's retaliation be worth the danger?

"No. I don’t trust you."

"No?"

"You heard me. I'm sorry that happened to you, but it ain't my problem." 

Solana rose to her feet, her weapon in sight as it dangled. "No, te lo estoy preguntando. Te lo digo." She spat, tightening her hand on the grip frame of the gun. 

"Ven aquí y dime perra." Armando challenged, beckoning with the wave of his gun. Suddenly, her face contorted, a sensation frothing at the seams of her chest. Armando squinted at her, vigilant, as Solana lunged towards him, hurtling him off-balance. They tumbled out of his bedroom, their weapons skittering across the floor, Armando's nudging the leg of the kitchen table. 

Solana mounted him, lugging a punch to his face. Armando managed to duck the jab, hurling one of his own. Her head rocketed back from the brunt of the punch as she crawled away from him to recover. They sighted Armando's gun by the kitchen table at the same time, both within arms reach, but Solana was closer. She hurdled to the gun, arm outstretched, her palm slightly grazing it before she was slung back by her ankle. She screamed out in frustration.

Armando submerged his weight on top of her, slithering his forearm around her neck and strangling her with brute force. Solana wheezed and mauled his arm with her nails, but his constriction was undaunted. Her vision became distorted, with her eyeballs protruding from their sockets. Through the haze, the table leg loomed in her eyesight. As a door-or-die effort, she yanked the leg from the table, a nail jutting out of the top of it. She slashed it across Armando's face. 

He cursed and removed the arm he was suffocating Solana with to inspect the bloody laceration on his forehead. He retreated, still on his knees. She wobbled to her feet, using that advantage to send a dropkick to his chest. He dove into the wall, causing drywall to trickle down. 

Solana began limping over to the gun while Armando struggled to regain cognizance. Once he was revived, he saw Solana’s gun only a few feet away from him. She must not have noticed it. He groveled to it and snatched it off the floor by the time Solana grabbed his. 

The two faced each other, guns drawn. Sharp, gasping breaths burdened the room. Solana’s arm was trembling by way of lassitude. Armando, while exhausted, upheld a solid aim.

As Armando studied the woman before him, in the midst of the mayhem, he was finally capable of taking in her striking, bloodstained features. Entrancing brown eyes and those kissable, pulpy lips coated with a lump. Indeed, she was an alluring woman, an alluring woman enduring a grievous past that was too hellish to hide away. He couldn’t hurt Solana. Even with his callousness, he could convey pity.

Armando bowed his weapon, surrendering.

However, Solana didn’t.

“C’mon.” she rasped through clinched teeth. “Come at me!”

His gaze mellow, Solana tearfully locked eyes, their hunger tethered together by want and desire. 

The earth moved, and they both felt it. 

Solana charged into his arms, latching her mouth onto his in a feverous kiss. Armando ribboned his tongue with hers before he bit the inflamed flesh on her bottom lip, tugging. She moaned at the sting and slapped him. 

“Fuckin’ puta.” He grunted and aggressively tugged at her locs, suckling at the nape of her neck. She kneed him in his thigh, mumbling into the skin of his cheek as she sunk her teeth in. “Do you trust me now?” 

He froze, combing some of her locs out of her face. Did he trust her?

“I’m getting there.” That was all he said, manhandling her to the floor and pressing his lips on hers anew.

TRANSLATIONS:

No te lo estoy preguntando. Te lo digo: I'm not asking you. I'm telling you.

Ven aquí y dime perra: Come over here and tell me brat.

A/N: Should I write smut for the next chapter? I’ve never written smut so I’m definitely nervous but I wouldn’t mind trying it out. Like, reblog, comment if you’d like to. xoxo

[strawbeerossi]

Heartless

Pairing: Unsub!Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Part Description: With an old foe breaking out of prison, there are complications when Y/N is left alone with them, exposing her secret to Spencer about just who she is.

Content Warnings: Coarse language, there’s spoilers for season 12 and prison Reid, mentions of drugging, mentions of death, use of a knife, use of a gun, violence, death.

Word Count: 4.4K

Part one || Part two || Part three

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Confusion had set in the minute that Y/N had gotten to Spencer’s car, watching the clumsy man nearly trip over his own two feet as he was pulling open the passenger side door, his tender touch against her lower back as he was so lovingly nudging her so she’d get in the car. “I thought you said this killer killed men. Why am I going to the office? Her MO isn’t women.” She tried, her boyfriend’s head shaking.

“Just listen to me!” Spencer snapped, bringing his hands to his hair while drawing in a breath. Trying to compose the very overwhelming emotions that seemed to be taking control. After prison, Spencer became more irritable. It was harder for him to control his emotions, he had major tunnel vision, and he was in a post traumatic stress state that wouldn’t ever leave him. Sure, things got better, in spurts. Therapy did so much for him, his girlfriend could only do so much, it was like his mind was against him.

“We need to get to the office now, okay? I promise you that I will explain everything in vivid detail but I need you in the fucking car! You’re gonna get hurt and I can’t lose someone else. Please just get in the car..” Watching Spencer panic and grow fearful was enough to make Y/N’s heart shatter. Her poor baby. In order to fulfill the man’s wishes, she was pressing a soft kiss against his cheek before climbing into the car, the seatbelt being snapped into place as soon as she was settled. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

Who the fuck was trying to take Y/N’s position? To claim all her hard work as their own? There was no doubt those men, no, those dirty pigs deserved to die. However, she was the one doing it. She was delivering justice to women who were failed by the system, by the courts, even by their spouses. What she did was vigilantism, doing what the law couldn’t. Even if her boyfriend was part of that same very law and would look down upon her choices. She had to keep it under the radar. She knew what would happen if her boyfriend was to find out.

She’d have to kill him.

It was almost a little laughable how naive Spencer was with the whole situation with his girlfriend, the way she would come over at all hours of the night, the way she’d always be tightly wound up. However, working in customer service for all shifts was a good excuse for that.

Spencer, the genius FBI profiler who had so much under his belt, had no idea he was in bed with a woman who he wanted to strangle. She’d like to think that he loved her, that he was overlooking everything just because he found solace in her arms. It was something that he told her, saying he needed her, that she made him sane after all the hell that he’d been put through.

Deep down, she knew that he was one of the good ones. The ones who deserved a loving relationship, a woman willing to take care of him, willing to deal with the long nights, days, even weeks when Spencer was off on a case. That was why she was there. To give a man who was the most deserving of love the very thing that he craved, needed. It wasn’t even just the sex that kept her there. It was that studious, lovable dork who always had so much to say, so much to teach her.

“There’s this woman, a woman who has been messing with me for years. I outsmarted her.” Spencer answered, one hand coming up to rub his right eye, the tunnel vision setting in as he was growing more overwhelmed. “Cat Adams. She-“ He let out a low sigh. “She drugged me, she framed me for murder, had me incarcerated, she.. She..” He was taking in a shaky breath while Y/N was reaching over to let her hand rest on his upper arm.

“You don’t have to say it right now, okay? I promise that it’s alright. I’m here for you.” Y/N assured her boyfriend, a weak smile on her face. Oh, she was gonna kill this bitch, for sure. She felt like this was going to be a bigger fight than it needed to be. Way too big.

Spencer was pulling in the parking garage soon after that, sitting in a deafening silence while he tried collecting himself the best that he could. He had to think clearly. Not only was he at risk but his girlfriend was too. Cat had so many people to do her dirty work outside of prison, he knew that. This was her handiwork. He didn't know how he didn't see it before.

Cat made the most sense. She was a 'Black Widow' killer. She used her seduction and charm to lure men in. She saw all men as threats, considered them all as evil and dark as the next. She never spared a thought for most of them. Spencer though.. Oh, Cat was infatuated. He was the only man to ever outsmart her, to arrest her while winning the game that she rigged against him. That woman wouldn't ever leave him alone, not until she was dead.

Being locked in a maximum security prison didn't deter her. Instead, it fueled her. It drove her to dig up every piece on Spencer that she possibly could. Hell, she had him drugged and imprisoned all the while blaming Mr. Scratch.

Emily Prentiss, the unit chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, was the one who greeted Spencer and Y/N by the elevator. "I'm glad you could make it. I know you've been busy with your personal investigation." She hummed, turning her attention to Y/N. "I had a suspicion our beloved Dr. Reid had a secret girlfriend." She joked, holding a hand out. "I'm Emily."

Y/N did her research on the BAU leader. She was strong willed, determined, and loyal to her work family. However, the mommy and daddy issues were apparent in her work ethic. The way she took on a more demanding tone, the way she looked at Y/N with that hint of mistrust. It was enough to make the other woman almost respect her. Emily was definitely going to make things difficult if she didn't play things smart.

The leader gets suspicious, and the team turns against her. No thanks.

"I'm Y/N. It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you." Y/N greeted, a smile gracing her features while her hand was reaching out to hold Emily's, the two shaking hands before their hands were falling back to their usual places.

"Spencer. If you wouldn't mind taking Y/N somewhere she can get comfortable, everyone else is waiting on us." Straight to business.

"I know it's not really work appropriate," Spencer began, his gaze falling on his girlfriend before he was taking her hand. "I'd really appreciate it if she came in too. She's been my rock throughout all of this and I don't think I can even talk about.." He paused briefly, making Emily look at Y/N before letting out a sigh.

"Alright. If you would feel more comfortable with her there, she can sit in. However," Now her attention was on Y/N. "I don't know what Spencer has told you but this is a violent case. We are going to be talking about a lot of dark subject matters." She spoke, a warning to the very woman who was behind every single murder except the most recent one.

"I understand. I think that I can handle it. If I can't, I'll quietly excuse myself." Her tone was soft as she offered a gentle smile.

Following close behind her boyfriend and his boss, Y/N was looking around the bullpen. There was a lot of structure and order, yet a hint of chaos judging by the piles of files and other papers on certain desks. She could already guess which one was Spencer's, which made her smile.

Inside the conference room though, the talking was coming to a halt when a new woman was stepping in the room, hand tucked in Spencer's.

There was a blonde woman that was speaking up first, a wide smile on her face. "Who is this?!" She asked, the case at hand almost being forgotten by the woman with purple framed glasses, a dress that was littered with unicorns amongst other fantasy style items. She didn't look like someone who would willingly choose this career, seeming very overjoyed and kind, too kind for the world.

"I'm Y/N. You must be Penelope." Y/N spoke up, the woman perking up even more if it was possible. "You've been talking about me!" She laughed, putting her hands together. "Is this your girlfriend? Oh! Spencer she's so-"

"Garcia."

Emily's voice was bringing the woman back to the heavy reality of the situation, making her smile fall as she nodded. "Sorry, sorry. Um," She began while grabbing the remote on the table. "We have Matthew Thornton." She began, clicking a button on the remote to pull up the crime scene.

Whoever was trying to take Y/N's thunder didn't even do it right. They stabbed the body about seventy times, which was far too much work for her to even attempt. Besides that, she'd never think to leave behind a note taunting anyone. However, this wasn't her. With the way she could feel her boyfriend tense up, she knew this was the work of the woman he told her about in the car.

"She ended up being a part of a well coordinated prison break." Tara was speaking up, her gaze looking over the files in hand while frowning. "How did the guards not notice?" She asked while Matt was looking over at the woman's direction. "Guards were in on it. It doesn't help that some of those same guards were killed while on their shift once the break happened and their clothes were stolen. Makes it easy to scan an ID and open the doors for everyone."

"So, wait," Y/N interjected herself into the conversation, however nobody seemed against her speaking her thoughts out. "With the break and how it flew under the radar for so long, do we know how long they've been out?" She asked, her eyebrows raising in curiosity. Maybe blaming this on Cat Adams could potentially get her fully off the suspect list.

"According to reports, this went on months ago." David responded, making Luke nod. "Meaning, Cat has been fighting for Spencer's attention in the only way she could. It looks like the killings led up to Spencer's apartment at one point but they stopped, now they are back on track."

Oh. Blessing in disguise maybe?

"What do we know?" Spencer finally broke his silence, his hand reaching over for one of the files before he was opening it, although it was almost like he had it to where Y/N could see too. Was she unknowingly getting signed up to help?

"She was seen in a convenience store security footage." Penelope answered, quickly pulling up the files. As they went through the footage a couple times, the blonde was pausing it on Cat's face. There was no doubt about it being her. Why was she playing the long game though? When Y/N found someone she wanted dead, she got on with it. There wasn't any doubt going through her mind.

"She's taunting us. We could be walking directly into a trap." Emily pointed out the obvious, her hands resting against the tabletop while keeping a sharp eye on the screen ahead of her. "I think it's time for us to go off of our leads. Garcia, send us coordinates for her last known locations. Judging by how recent this footage is, she's close. I’m pairing all of us off. We need to play this safe.”

Emily just didn't know how close Cat really was.

◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:*:◆

Cat had successfully evaded police capture for months now, keeping her eyes on one specific person. She saw Y/N approach Spencer in a bar a few months ago, getting cozy with him before going back to his apartment. So.. Cat did what she did best, digging.

She followed Y/N around on her nights of leisure, watching her use her intoxicating voice and seduction to lure unsuspecting men back to shitty motels and other discreet places just to kill them. Yet, after all that, she’d made sure to not leave a trace of evidence behind before she left.

Going straight home to her boyfriend, an FBI agent who would no doubt kill her if she found out.

That was when Cat decided to make her escape known, attracting the attention of the BAU in order to throw this woman under the bus. Cat’s obsession with Spencer knew absolutely no bounds. She would do what she could to make him suffer, all the while managing to keep him all to herself.

He didn’t deserve to be happy. No, he deserved to be with someone who was meant for him. She knew from the moment she met Spencer that he was an evil person, harboring a dark side that only she had managed to bring out after being part of completely breaking him down, making him crumble into a form of himself that he would never fully recognize.

She knew they’d be catching on soon. The BAU never disappointed her, she was going to one place where they wouldn’t be looking. In fact, it was the place where Y/N was sent after Emily was making the woman leave due to the fact that no normal civilian needed to be part of this. Spencer was against the idea entirely but at the promise of an agent going to guard his girlfriend, he had to deflate and accept she needed to go home, where she was safe.

So, as she was being ushered home by some big agent to keep her safe, Y/N could help but frown. They thought she needed a man to protect her?? She knew what she was doing. If Cat even showed up on her radar, it’d be easy to kill her. No guard would be able to hold her back either. She’d pieced together every horrible thing that Cat coordinated against Spencer, the way she pulled the strings in an elaborate plan to completely break him.

There was going to be a long, painful death in store for the notorious escaped convict, that was all she knew.

“You don’t have to be here you know.” Y/N murmured to the man beside her, her hand reaching in her purse so she could unlock her front door. “Sorry, ma’am. Orders.” He wasn’t gonna let up. It was enough to get under her skin, wanting to grab her blade tucked away in her bag and slit his throat. However, she wasn’t going to fully incriminate herself after seemingly getting away with murder.

As soon as the door was unlocked, she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Thankfully, the man outside would just be standing guard, which was a shitty decision if Cat was as good as they said she was.

Y/N had gotten her shoes off before heading to her kitchen, flipping on the light before raising an eyebrow as she saw Cat Adams, the woman the whole team was looking for, at her kitchen table. She had a folder resting on the table, labeled for Spencer. “You’re home! Thank god, I was worried I’d have to go find you!”

“What the fuck are you doing in my apartment? How did you get into my apartment?”

“I have my ways! Now, why don’t you sit down?”

The way that this woman was talking to her had Y/N rolling her eyes. “I think I’m gonna have to ask you to leave before I shove a knife in your throat. I mean, it would be self defense, after all. You broke into my home, you’re a convicted murderer.”

“Ah. You’re a murderer too though.” Cat stated, opening the file in front of her to reveal the prints linking Y/N with each victim. The same bar where she met Spencer, the same drink, the same body language. “I mean.. This is plenty of evidence. The cameras may not work there but people have their eyes open. Always. I know so many people around here, you’d be surprised.”

Cat didn’t give Y/N time to ask any questions. “Now, what I wanna know is, what are you doing with Spencer Reid? Your whole crusade is to kill men who have gotten away with violence against their partners and/or their children. Men who are violent, harboring dark thoughts and using their strength to either take life away, or to try and end it.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with Spencer.”

“You don’t? You do know that Spencer murdered a woman, correct? In cold blood, might I add. She was trying to help him and he returned the favor by stabbing her to death.”

“Because you drugged him, Cat. I’m not fucking stupid, I’ve already been made aware.”

“Were you aware that after his release from prison, he came to visit me? He had to talk with me about my involvement, which I’m sure you know that I had his precious mommy under my lock and key. Do you know what he did to me? What he said?”

There was silence from Y/N’s end. That was something she hadn’t heard yet.

“You see, I was pregnant in prison. Spencer had come to question me, asking me all sorts of bullshit questions. So I answered. He got impatient with me. Started yelling, threw a table out of the way, and slammed me against a brick wall. He was going to choke me to death, Y/N. I had bruises for months after that. I even miscarried. If JJ hadn’t been there, I would’ve been dead.” The story wasn’t as tragic as Cat believed it to be. She deserved it.

“You fight for women and children who have been fucked over by the crooked structure of law enforcement. The same law enforcement that your sweet boyfriend is a part of. Killing all of those men was a waste of time. If you truly cared about those people who you claim to be fighting for, Spencer would’ve been dead a long time ago. I respected your choices leading up to that moment. The moment that you grew weak. The moment you betrayed every single thing you were fighting for.”

As if right on cue though, there was the sound of banging right outside the front door, Spencer’s voice being muffled by the front door as he called out to his girlfriend. He willingly sent her home, thinking she’d be safe. All the while, Cat left plenty of clues as to where she was. “Right on time! I knew Spencie wouldn’t fail me.” She grinned.

“Go be a good girl and unlock the door. I think you and him need to have a long talk about what you did.” She spoke, leaning back in her chair while nodding towards the front door, where Spencer was still yelling for his girlfriend. If she didn’t open the door soon, he’d have to pull a Derek and kick the wooden door clean off its hinges.

This was where Y/N’s heart fell into her stomach. Realization was setting in. Spencer was going to know. He was going to see the incriminating bullshit that Cat had in front of her. Everything was going to fall down to Y/N killing Spencer. This was what Cat needed her for. What she used her for.

She quietly approached the front door, unlocking each individual lock before pulling it open. “Oh thank god!” Spencer croaked, his arms wrapped tightly around his girlfriend while he held her flush against his chest. The comfort of knowing she was okay was enough to have him sobbing in her arms, unaware of what darkness was looming in the kitchen. “She’s on the way here.” He spoke, him against her shoulder while his eyes were closed.

The moment was gone in an instant. “I’m already here, Spencie. It’s so nice to see you again. I bet that you thought you were doing justice here,” Cat smirked, body leaning against the kitchen archway as she let an eyebrow raise. “I suggest you come inside, sit with us in the kitchen. We both have a lot to discuss with you.” She began, causing the couple to break apart from the hug as Y/N grabbed her boyfriend’s hand. “Come on.” She whispered, tears rolling down her pale cheeks as she led him into the kitchen.

“Now, I think you guys should recruit me into the fbi. Because I solved this case for you!” Cat grinned, pushing the closed file to Spencer. “Your killer, the one you’ve been searching for, has been right under your nose this whole time. It’s not even me!” She had a wicked smile on her face. This was another shot to Spencer’s heart, making him go through pain all over again. As long as she was alive, Spencer wouldn’t ever escape her.

You could hear a pin drop the minute that Spencer opened the file, his eyes staring at the pictures inside while his mouth ran dry. That was Y/N. His girlfriend. With the men who were murdered, the same bar they met in and everything.

“What the fuck is this?” There was anger in his voice, betrayal. “You’ve let me nearly kill myself from lack of sleep and bringing me to near heart attack level because of you?!” The venom in his voice had Y/N flinching upon impact, her eyes squeezing shut. “You don’t understand-“ She began, though it wasn’t long before Spencer was throwing the file down and standing.

“Was I another victim?! Were you playing the fucking long game with me? You wanted to catch me fully off guard?” He growled, the woman being backed up to the wall. Y/N felt powerless, her heart beating out of her chest as the man she loved was towering over her, keeping her trapped between himself and the wall.

However, once his back was to Cat, it was almost like something else flashed in his eyes. There was anger but now there was something else. Encouragement? She didn’t think much about it until Spencer was reaching over to take a knife out of the knife block, holding it out to his girlfriend. “Do it then. Go for it.” He growled, though there wasn’t fear behind his eyes. No.. There was a fucking smirk on his face, egging her on to make a move.

Y/N was slowly taking the knife once Spencer backed up, this time sitting in a chair. There were a few moments of silence while Y/N was looking at her reflection within the blade of the knife, something ticking inside of her. Something she’d been waiting to act on for a while. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, looking over at her boyfriend who seemed unbothered. “I don’t wanna fucking hear it. Just hurry up. We don’t have much time.” 

The way she was encouraged made her face Cat, then everything went black.

The first thing she did was charge the other woman, knocking her out of the chair. The air was thick with adrenaline as the woman was wrestling the other to the ground. This was a long time coming. However, cat put up one hell of a fight, the woman ending up getting a good hit on Y/N and knocking her to the ground, which had Cat be the knife wielder.

As the woman was climbing on top of the other, she was pushing the knife deep into Y/N’s shoulder, the woman letting out a loud cry. “You’re pathetic, you know that? All that promise? All that strength. He was going to take it away from you anyway. You never loved him and he never loved-“

BANG

Blood was splattered all over Y/N’s face, the sound of a gunshot echoing through the apartment. The deadweight of Cat falling on top of her was enough to shock her. Did Spencer just.. There were a few moments where Y/N used the adrenaline coursing through her veins to shove the dead weight off of her.

“How dumb do you think I am?” Spencer asked after a moment, using a lighter to light up the incriminating evidence in the sink to let the pictures burn completely. “I’ve known the whole fucking time. You’re not exactly subtle. Be real. I was in that bar on a stakeout.” He continued on while looking back at Y/N.

“I was supposed to go in, do my job, and get out. However, you sat beside me. The way you were talking to me, touching me, and your body language gave you up immediately. However.. Against my better judgment, I had some sort of trust in you. I took you home with me.” He began while turning on the water to put out the fire from the burning evidence before grabbing the unidentifiable pictures and throwing them in the trash.

“I fell in love with you. Even if you didn’t deserve that love. Quite frankly, you still don’t.” He was taking off the purple scarf around his neck, wrapping it around her bleeding wound while he was moving to grab his microphone, putting a finger up. “Prentiss, send up medics. Cat’s down and Y/N is wounded.” He sent off the message while letting his arms cross as he looked over his girlfriend.

“I’m not gonna say a word about any of this. I told you that I refuse to lose you and I mean that. You’re not going to be locked up in a jail cell the rest of your life or mine. But you have to promise me that you’re not gonna fuck around and keep doing this bullshit. I mean it, if I feel like you are killing anyone else..” He was grabbing her chin by making her look up at him.

“I’ll kill you myself. Now, go get stitched up before you bleed out.” There was a soft kiss pressed against her lips while he was standing straight again, walking out of the apartment to greet the other team members downstairs.

He left Y/N to stand there, mostly in shock.

What the fuck just happened?

[good-beanswrites]

I’m thinking about the angst of the restraints headcanon again. There’s the two with the least physically violent crimes, and they rank relatively low in strength. There’s the child who was violent but had to be really crafty about it; she’s the weakest of all of them. And the most dangerous of the guilty prisoners cannot be restrained.

This makes me so emotional!!! All three are the smallest of their circles. Two of them are extremely ordinary people who have never experienced/expressed physical violence before. One hadn't even fathomed the idea of someone dying until they actually did. And yet, they're subjected to the type of restraints you'd expect to see on someone who is uncontrollably violent. The fact that prisoners who committed very gruesome murders can walk free (including Mikoto) just adds insult to injury. I still couldn't everything into words, but here's a Mahiru-centric drabble featuring the same thoughts. It takes place after T1 closes but before the attacks.

“Where are our rights?”

Fuuta’s shout caused Mahiru to wince. She perched on her bedding, watching the two prisoners she’d invited to her cell. It hadn’t been the fun kind of invitation, though. Back in school, she always wanted to have parties and dates back at her place. Moving to the city, she imagined what it would be like to make university friends and take them back home with her to talk, eat, and have fun. 

Sitting in her dim gray cell with Fuuta and Amane, all of them held fast by complex sets of restraints, was not what she’d had in mind.

Amane knelt in the corner. Her arms were crossed, as if pouting, though the opposite was true. A moment ago her eyes had lowered in prayer, but it was difficult to find any peace of mind now. Fuuta snapped and shouted as he paced the length of the cell bars. They were unlocked, but like the others, he didn’t feel like being out in front of everyone. He’d give his uniform a violent jerk every now and then, but it didn’t do any good. Between his strides and growls, he made Mahiru think of those poor wild animals they keep at the circus.

“Take it easy, Fuuta.” She mustered up a smile. “Come rest with us.”

“I can’t believe you two. You’re just gonna sit here and take it? I didn’t do a fucking thing! They’re acting like I’m some big danger to society,” he yanked his arms again, to no avail. “All I did was type some things onto a screen. I’m not gonna go around stabbing anyone or anything. And you, you didn’t hurt anyone either!”

He nodded his head to Mahiru. If her arms weren’t already folded over her chest, she would have hugged herself anyway. 

“Well… I did hurt him in the end… I broke his heart badly enough that… I mean, he…”

Fuuta made a disgusted sound. “That’s all stupid romance stuff. I’m saying, you never stabbed him. Never strangled him. Never poisoned his food, or –”

“Oh god, no! How horrible…”

“Exactly! From what we’ve heard, it sounds like Haruka killed someone with his bare hands. I think Muu had a knife or something. Shidou had a whole arsenal of grisly doctor tools. Kotoko has openly talked about how she beat that guy to death. Why are they allowed to walk free while we’re tied down like wild animals?”

Mahiru was glad she hadn’t mentioned the circus.

“And Amane! It’s not like she did anything violent, and here she is!”

“That is not true.”

Both paused as Amane spoke up for the first time. 

“Eh?”

“While I disagree with my verdict, the restraints make sense.” The others still stared blankly. As matter-of-fact as always, she continued. “I killed with my own hands. I used the amount of force I was instructed to. Just as the sinner fears the wrath of heaven, I can understand how the godless warden would fear my justice.”

Fuuta’s passion wavered, but Mahiru could feel her heart ache for the girl. “Oh Amane… I had no idea. To be pushed to the point of violence at your age…”

“I am not to be pitied. As I said, I am dangerous, and proud to be. I am doing god’s work. All heroes must be dangerous.”

Fuuta grunted, but said nothing. Mahiru gave her a gentle smile. “It’s not pity. Even if you were dangerous, it’s horrible to restrain someone like you. You’ve already had to brave so much, as the smallest of the bunch.”

She looked between the two. A sad laugh escaped her. “Now that I think of it, I guess we’re all the smallest here, hm? Aside from maybe Muu, we don’t have much height or strength on the others…”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Fuuta cried. “The fuck do they think we’re going to do?” Mahiru was just glad he’d focused on that rather than the fact she’d just called him weak. 

Voices raised in conversation down the hallway. Mikoto’s laugh echoed faintly into the cell.  

It warmed Mahiru to hear. Things had been so hard on him here. Though it had been frightening to hear him shouting at the restraints til his voice was raw – well, it wasn’t him shouting – it had been a relief when he appeared free and relaxed the following day. He seemed sheepish that he wasn’t able to help the others, having no memory of his escape. Mahiru just kept telling him how happy she was for him.

Fuuta didn’t share in the sentiment. “Meanwhile, Mikoto gets to stroll around free, and he beat the shit out of Es! He could snap and kill any one of us here, and they don’t even give a damn. But ooohhh, god forbid the guy who’s never been violent a day in his life is allowed to use his own two hands!”

The harshness of his voice wasn’t doing his argument many favors. Still, his words were beginning to get through to Mahiru. 

She’d worked so hard to be a model citizen. She was supposed to have a perfect life. She could cook, clean, sew, and take care of children. She did herself up every day; she was never a slob or a slut. She was generous to everyone she met. She showered the world around her in love. Wasn’t it unfair that her hands were tied like some common criminal? What was all that effort for – being patient when people upset her, being kind even when she disagreed with someone, all of that – if she was going to end up in the same place as someone who had stabbed another out of sheer malice?

Amane didn’t seem to be whirling with the same doubts. She closed her eyes once more. “It is simply a trial from heaven. We may be small, but all of us have an internal strength that will carry us through the ordeal.”

“I don’t think it’s any sort of religious thing, but you’re right,” Fuuta puffed his chest out. “Trials like this only make people stronger!” 

“Do you think so?” Mahiru wasn’t sure if she was asking either of them or just musing to herself. It was a nice thought. This was all part of destiny, something meant to be that would make her stronger in the end. 

But she wasn’t so sure she believed in destiny anymore. It hadn’t quite worked out the first time. 

“Hell yeah!” Fuuta must have assumed she was in fact asking him. He gave a wide, toothy grin. “It’s not like we can get any weaker, right? The warden better watch out next trial – they’ve got a big storm coming!”

[maria021015]

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR CHAPTER 38!

“I just had a huge braingasm!” Stiles ran after Zaida in the school hallway as soon as the bell for the end of English rang.

“A what?” The girl wrinkled her nose at the term.

“A braingasm - you know like a brain orgasm. It’s a portmanteau.” He explained.

“Yeah, no, I gathered that much. Just never say that word again.” She shook her head at him and continued walking to her locker, putting in the combination and opening the door to deposit her books inside. It was moments like these that reminded her that despite her crush on him, he was still just Stiles. It was a refreshing experience. “What is it you want?”

“You said after lunch. It’s now after lunch, so you’re coming with me to see Deaton.” The boy demanded, leaving no room for any other option.

“Lydia and I were supposed to leave early and have a girls' night.” She pouted in disappointment, overplaying it because she knew it would piss him off.

“And you think that’s more important than figuring out who the murdering, people-sacrificing psycho running around town is?” The boy’s eyes widened in frustration, looking as if he wanted to strangle her.

“God, I’m joking, Stilinski. Of course, I’m coming. You didn’t think I was going to let you go snooping without me, right?” She rolled her eyes at him, shutting her locker with a slam and slinging her backpack up over her shoulder.

“We’ve been over this like a hundred times, it's not snooping. It’s investigating!” He groaned loudly and followed after her towards the Jeep.

“Same thing,” She shrugged and brushed it off dismissively with a wave of her hand, knowing it would only infuriate him further. For some reason doing so always gave her a thrill of sorts.

“You're out of school early…” Deaton looked at Stiles and Zaida with a raised brow as they arrived at the animal clinic. She wiggled her fingers at him in a wave of greeting.

“Yeah, free period, actually.” Stiles explained. “Um, I was just headed home to see my dad. He's, uh...You know, I guess you probably heard people are kind of getting murdered again. It's his job to figure it out.”

“I gathered as much from the 'Sheriff' title.” Deaton gave them a small smile and opened the mountain ash gate to allow them both to walk through to the back room.

“Yeah, um...You know, it gets kind of hard for him to do his job when he doesn't have all the information. And we all know he's missing pretty much half the story here, right?” Stiles continued, his voice shot with nerves. Zaida frowned at hearing it, wondering why. “So then, I started thinking, and I remembered someone else who does have a lot of information. Someone who always seems to know more than anyone else around here.”

“You.” Zaida finished his sentence, starting to put the pieces together to figure out what Stiles already had. Peter had told them that the emissaries that gave wolf packs advice were usually Druids. She’d read about them from Celtic history and folklore, and they were particularly fond of sacrifices. Sacrifices just like the ones occurring around town. And what did Deaton do but provide them - a wolf pack - with advice?

“All these symbols and things - the triskeles, the bank logo, the mountain ash - all of it is from the Celtic Druids. And anyone who has ever looked up ‘human sacrifice’ before knows that the Druids had a pretty big hard-on when it came to giving one up to the gods.” The boy continued, and whilst Zaida wrinkled her nose at his choice of words, she was listening intently. “You ever hear of the Lindow man? Two-thousand-year-old body found in England? He was found strangled, head bashed in, throat cut - three-fold death. They also found pollen grains in his stomach. Guess what favourite Druid plant that was?”

“Mistletoe.” Deaton let out a heavy sigh. Zaida stood back, watching the interaction with keen eyes. This side of Stiles was incredibly attractive. She could watch him stand there and speak about information he’d put together and links he’d made until the cows came home and then some. But this feeling was new. She’d always thought Stiles was beautiful, but when he was like this? God, he was hot.

“I'm just telling you everything you already know, aren't I?” Stiles asked, though it seemed like it had been exactly what he’d expected from the man. Did he seriously suspect it was Deaton going around committing these murders? Deaton? The calm-spoken man who had helped them so much? “Then why aren't you telling us???”

“Maybe because when you've spent every moment of the last ten years trying to push something away - denying it, lying about it - it becomes a pretty powerful habit,” Deaton admitted that he was what they now both suspected him to be. A Druid. But was he the Druid they were looking for? Zaida truly didn’t think so. She trusted this man.

“All right, so this guy...is he a Druid?” Stiles questioned.

“We don’t know that it is a guy,” Zaida interjected, not wanting to cut off any demographic of suspects just yet.

“To answer your question, no. It's someone copying a centuries-old practice of a people who should have known better. Do you know what the word ‘Druid’ means in Gaelic?” Deaton leaned forward, looking at them closely. “‘Wise oak’. The Celtic Druids were close to nature. They believed they kept it in balance. They were philosophers and scholars - they weren't serial killers.”

“Yeah, well, this one is.” Stiles insisted, but their conversation was abruptly interrupted by the ringtone of Zaida’s phone. The opening lines to Keri Hilson’s ‘ Pretty Girl Rock ’ blared from the tiny phone speakers as she pulled the device out of her pocket and held it up to her ear, answering Lydia’s call.

“Hey, I can’t really talk right now. Can I call you back later?” She smiled apologetically at Deaton, then paused when she heard what the girl on the other end of the line was saying. “Wait, what ? Yeah, are you sure he's missing? Okay, we’ll meet you there.”

“What happened?” Stiles’ brows furrowed curiously.

“The music teacher’s been taken,” Zaida explained with worry in her hazel eyes.

“Oh, we gotta go.” Stiles nodded with an urgency in his tone.

“I’ll come with you. I’d like to see this for myself.” The doctor’s typically serene features even morphed into a concerned expression at this news, and Zaida knew it meant they were in deep shit.

[mcwexlerscigarette]

post the essay girl!!

BEWARE: ITS MESSY

(Backstory) Okay so they've been apart six years and have been completely miserable the entire time. Yes because they're not together anymore but also because of the trauma they had to witness (watching their former boss get murdered right in front of them in their living room). During these six years, Saul has completely abandoned his identity as Jimmy McGill. As Saul Goodman, he's a shady gaudy cartel lawyer who surrounds himself with prostitutes and literally has a drawer full of Xanax (but this is proved to be a result of his anxiety/PTSD/not being able to deal without Kim). Kim on the other hand moved to Florida (after divorcing Jimmy, where he purposely hurt her by being as cold as possible). She is no longer a lawyer and has gave up on making any decisions at all because she is so scared of the consequences. She won't even say whether she likes a food or not. She's also in a very dull relationship with a very boring man. She's miserable also. The two of them think they have ruined each other. Anyway flashforward to six years when Saul (now called Gene because of his new identity) is in hiding from the law, he talks to his old secretary who says Kim called to check on him. This causes him to call Kim and talk to her for the first time in years and it does NOT go well at all. She finally makes a decision/voices an opinion for the first time in years and says he should turn himself in. He gets mad and yells at her and calls her a hypocrite and says that she should turn herself in. Anyway, this call causes him to relapse into a life of crime and this time he's worse than ever. Like, he really seems evil. Meanwhile Kim listens to what he says and turns herself in but without evidence the law can't do anything about it. But she does tell the widow of their dead boss and it's implied she's gonna bring a civil suit against Kim which means she can take anything Kim owns or will ever own. This is fine with Kim, she just wants to atone. By the way, she's careful not to let the widow know that Gene is alive because she doesn't wanna sell him out like that. Anyway Gene's life of crime escalates and long story short: he almost strangles an old lady after she realizes his true identity. He never lays his hands on her and in fact backs away from her completely when she says that she trusted him and he betrayed her. She calls the cops on him and he goes on the run. He doesn't get far and they find him in a dumpster. Whenever he's making a deal with the prosecution they end up telling him that Kim came clean about the death of their former boss. He wants an even better deal so he decides to make it look like Kim murdered their former boss himself. He's selling her out so he can get weekly pints of ice cream. During this time Kim starts volunteering at a legal aid office. After hearing about what Gene/Saul is doing, she goes to his court deal thing (there's no trial because he took the deal so the court thing is just sentencing him). He has an amazing deal: only seven years. During the court thing, he starts giving a very heartfelt speech where he admits all the wrong he's done throughout the series (taking accountability which is something he's never done before). He admits he lied about Kim's involvement in their bosses murder. He only did that because it was the only way he knew he could get her to come. He wanted her to hear his speech. Anyway his speech gets him EIGHTY SIX YEARS in a maximum security prison. He had a seven year deal and gave it all up just so he could prove himself worthy of her love, to let her know she was right. He doesn't ask for forgiveness but he hopes that she does forgive him. Anyway she visits him in prison and they share a cigarette (that's their thing) and it's implied that she will continue to visit him meaning there's hope for their relationship igniting. It's a very hopeful ending.0 unread messages

[tomopri]

YOUR OCS

Hand them over.

THERE ARE . s o man y .... . here is my oc masterpost except i only realised after i hunted it down that there's like no info for anything . so instead i'll just give a rundown for what each thing is and if any of the synopses intrigue you yr free to ask more ^_^

lobotomy corporation - i think a lot of my active followers know what lobcorp is, but i'll explain it anyways. it's like if you took scp and said "what if it was even MORE fucked up. and stressful." like iirc the game description on steam literally says that it's inspired by scp, cabin in the woods, and warehouse 13 and that is not understating a damn thing . my ocs there are all employees and i think way too hard about puck at all times

tmrwverse - what if the apocalypse was real and also alive? hi. tmrwverse (real name pending) is my original story. completely original? Nnn oo oo . it started off as a danganronpa uni but i'm not into dgr anymore and i wanted to make it its own thing . it's also inspired to a degree by parties are for losers, especially in regards to the way the apocalyptic nightmare entity (known simply as The Calamity) effects the world around it. beyond that idfk what's going on i just know there's necromancy and eldritch gods and half the thing is a weirdcore dreamcore nightmare it's my baby . kuroshi is my everything ever at all

P.A.R.T.S. - what if watch dogs 2 was cyberpunk and dušan was evelyn deavor from the incredibles 2. so yea it's just like this ragtag group of people who are prolific hackers and there's this tech company that has a chokehold over the government and is slowly trying to eliminate all individuality but shirka (evelyn deavor dušan) claims it's all for a good cause and one of my friends called her milfy and i've never been the same. oh also demons are a thing and they are just kinda casually around .

a second chance by way of updog - this one's based on a joke interaction i had with an old friend where they said updog to me and i basically said i'd kill them . Followed by a gif of russell from up ascending w balloons and them saying "me omw to heaven after azazel kills me" and i said "bold of you to assume i'll let you into the afterlife." and so now it's about this dude who's second best at everything named bailey who tells an updog joke to a god named silvanus who happened to be patrolling the street and they immediately strangled him to death and sent him to purgatory and also stripped him of his blue hair which he's ultimately more upset about than the whole being dead thing . but then silvanus gets punished as well for murdering an innocent and then trapping him in purgatory for no good reason and they're stripped of their powers and stuck in purgatory with bailey . then this third dude dies and it's because a dime got dropped on his head from the top of the empire state building, which is actually how bailey was Supposed to die; but because silvanus killed him first, he was ultimately second place to his own murder. and this third dude has been first place in every competition bailey has ever entered (mostly air guitar & ddr) but he is undeveloped. like literally he is a non character. this is intentional. bailey has been losing to what is essentially an unscripted npc. yeah i have a lot to say about this supposed-to-be-a-joke uni.

quando ti ho incontrato / when i met you - i need you to listen to femme fatale by coyote kid and you'll understand my vision . tadeo, main guy, is hopelessly in love with maeva, the classic femme fatale. she's going to ruin his life and he is perfectly content with that. he's a bit like a puppy dog. for some reason this whole story takes place in italy.

the great corpse march to the sea - okay just because i'm not into dgr anymore does not mean i don't like the concept of a killing game. tgcmtts is essentially a fangan except i pretend dgr doesn't exist. all of them have death related careers to some degree Minus cat nemune they are 12 and are not in the death game . one of these guys is a batshit serial killer and has bugs. another is a batshit serial killer but as a doctor. they are in a qpr. there is tragedy to ensue in this game because there are so many people who are family or people in some nature of relationship and it hurts me . this whole story hurts me why do i write the things i do

unlisted, but a practice in being haunted - the most pathetic guy on earth having the worst life of his life after his house becomes infested with ghosts exactly one week after the most traumatic experience he couldever go through so he has not processed it. chaos ensues.

[briarreed]

TRIGGERS|| PTSD, panic attack, death, grief, parental loss, loss, murder, blood, extreme sadness, suffocation, ice cold showers, psychological torture, insecurity

The Fae Ball left Briar a sensitive bundle of frayed nerves, fearing torture or worse for all her loved ones had made an attempted martyr of herself. Maybe she had always been like that, picking off pieces of herself like tokens of affection. The trouble was she had not yet decided when enough was enough. Perhaps when she had emptied out all the love she had in her, she poured out all her emotions until she was empty of it all. Heart on her sleeve, mind open for anyone to read. For now she could not face it, make sense of it alone. For now, she only wanted sleep. The blissful pass of time unfelt so she could face it all without being exhausted.

The first moments of sleep were torn away in a tangle of linens and strewn pillows as Briar sat up, a cold sweat scream ripping through her lips. It was only a dream. Her chest rose quickly as she felt around in the dark, fingers sinking into soft white fur and nothing else…no one else. Alone…she was alone.

Her dreams had turned to hauntings, something they did often in the months and weeks since she’d experienced losses in three; Poppy, the right to say she was not a murderer, and her mother. The dreams shifted sometimes, different versions of the same sort of horror. Poppies ripped from the earth and laid on the blonde corpse of her sister; she had survived she reminded herself. This one had starred Alyssa, the only time she saw her mother anymore was when she walked by a mirror and caught a glimpse of her own reflection in weird light or in phantoms in her dreams. The one currently chasing her into waking had been the chiding mother she knew and loved despite it all. Lecturing Briar on her failures, letdowns, and disappointments in an endless list that seemed to have no end. Alyssa had always been so good at that, going on and on about things Briar had not even considered until her words turned into strangling gasps. Briar had watched her mother die more than once, this time in a ballroom full of masked people who watched, a clock ticking deafening overhead. Alyssa died again in Briar’s dream, that end was always the same. Blood coated her hands of a man no one cared to remember. The ball was a new addition to the ghoulish haunted of her mind's worst moments.

There was no solace for her to reach for, no promises to undo; “But promise me this — no teleporting away until we hash things out…but I don’t want another night of either of us being mad and not talking things through. I want this to work, and that might mean having some ugly moments and working through them. I don’t want us to not try and work things out first. Okay?”

She had wanted that to be true, to know she could expose all her worst parts and have them at least understood. It was selfish to hope Julian would have wanted to endure the reality that Jamie had kissed her, that she had kissed him. In the moment she had thought the lips she was kissing were Julian’s. In their passion, she thought she had found him behind the masks, a prize she would have done anything to win. A case of mistaken identity made all the more painful by the long romantic history Briar had shared with Jamie. It wasn’t so easy to explain when there was once a ring on her finger, a future in mind with the man whom she’d fallen down the rabbit hole with. Lines were blurry; complicated by all the history and lack of closure she had failed to give to Jamie. Closure she owed him. For all he had loved her despite all the doubt she had, had loved her for the near two years while she was moving on and rebuilding her life from the rubble of her losses. Maybe she had unintentionally blurred the lines, made it unclear to Jamie. Left him uncertain until she’d mistaken him for someone else; she knew that could have filled him with hope, hope she’d not right to give. Hope…a terrible thing to steal from someone who had done nothing to deserve the broken heart.

His only crime had been loving her when she loved someone else. And now she was left here with her nightmares and hope. Hope that there was no space or silence. No wondering and uncertainty because she’d believed a promise said in desperation could endure it all. Briar wanted to call Julian to her, to beg him to come back to be here with her. It didn’t feel so complicated when she knew stubbornly what she wanted. Briar had become so accustomed to reaching for his comfort in the dark slip of her crushing memories that she’d forgotten how it felt to weather it alone. To be gripped by terror, stuck in the memory of a reality she felt the rest of the world moving on from. It was just a dream; no it was reality. That was the most terrible part of it even after she’d been shaken from the horrors of all the death, there was no relief to be had, it existed whether she was awake or not. She’d lived it and hoped that with time and grieving, it would leave her as all seasons do, and yet the horror clung to Briar like a stubborn winter that showed no sign of stopping when the springtime sun offered no shadow or shade. Briar knew he would not be there, and yet she had hoped. She had only herself right now. The humming purr of Posie was also only a manifestation of her, a grown woman’s attempt to self-soothe while panic blossomed wide, splitting her chest open and filling her mind with the echo of a parting I don’t know. She wanted it to stop. She wanted to catch her breath to feel the relief of a full exhale, but each breath was a panicked wind that reminded her of how her broken heart ached and grieved and longed with the elusive hope.

Murderous hands had belonged to her, now manicured and soft and still just as stained in blood. The thought sliced through her and brought a hard wave of sobs that rocked her shoulders, her fingers stilling against the warm fur as she sobbed. Briar curled into herself, pulling her knees to her chest and letting her head sink into her pillow. She longed for the lap of a mother who would hum lullabies and sink their fingers into her hair. Hush the suffering away and put all the pieces back whole again. But even if Alyssa had not died, if Briar had not cast a vote to unknowingly condemn her mother, could she say Alyssa would understand her aching heart? Would she have sympathy for the daughter who had murdered and given her heart in its entirety to a man who was unaffected by time? For a daughter so unraveled by the frays of her emotions she had no longer known how to stuff them down for the sake of public decency?

Or would Alyssa recoil at the daughter she had become? Look at her and see all the abhorrent things Briar was and always had been. She could not face the answer. She preferred the slower twisting blade of denial. So she wailed into her pillow for a mother who would not come even if death had been reversible. She held herself together while she felt as if her mind was cataclysmically and forever altered. She was alone in her grief and fear, the broken daughter of a woman she loved without condition while struggling to meet all of Alyssa’s. She wanted to ask why- too full of shame to even call the sister she had hurt with her grief-fueled vitriol. Did Alyssa know Briar would still choose Poppy? That she would always have chosen her sister even if she knew the result and grief that would untangle and claw at all the ingenue silky parts of her until she no longer recognized herself? It was an unfathomable thought she had wanted to share now. The space in her bed usually shared by him was cold enough that once she had moved to lay her tear-swollen cheek against it she found some grounding reprieve from the exhaustive sobs and suffocating panic and slowly Briar unfolded from her bed in search of deeper grounding to battle the hyperventilating sobs that did not want to release her.

Careful steps into her bathroom, Briar left the room dark as she peeled one of his shirts from her body and let it fall to her bathroom floor with the rest of her clothes. With trembling limbs and gasping breaths, she turned the shower head on and stepped into the icy stream. A violent shock to her system, but it woke her up and pulled her mind out of the loop of nightmarish thoughts and echoed memories of her mother's chastising death. Cold and heartbroken was better than heartbroken and unrelentingly panicked. So she stood in the frigid stream, each tear indistinguishable from the cold water if it wasn’t for the way her shoulders shook with the last of her quiet sobs.

Briar was unsure how long she had stood in that shower, but by the time she had cut the water off, her fingers had pruned, dark crimson locks stuck to her shoulders and cheeks, and the sun had begun to peer through the windows, creating ethereal liminal shadows across the wall and floors. A place between fear and a new day. Briar went through the motions of a new day, wrapping her cold frame in her robe without drying the water from her skin. Ambled like a ghost through her apartment to fill a water pitcher full as she went about her apartment pouring water into her plants. The ones above head, now out of reach left to dehydrate and wilt. Briar opened her front door to water the fern that sat out front, her attention captured by the coffee and brown bag left for her; he’d come. Briar abandoned the pitcher, forgetting the unwatered fern, and took the coffee and bag, the only proof that Julian had been there; she shut the door on the world, shutting herself back in her apartment. Clutching the items close, she wandered back to her room. Both items were placed with care on her bedside table next to a photograph and a key that was not her own before she fell face-first into her unmade bed. Hope and the smell of coffee and chocolate croissants lulled Briar into dreamless sleep. Grief would be forever, and she would continue to grow around it, expanding her world so even if the grief stayed just as big it would consume less of her…maybe they all could be okay. Maybe there was a future where all the hearts of all those she loved would be so full that grief would become an infrequent visitor.

[ladyartemesia]

All I Want For Christmas is You

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Female Reader

Summary: When Park Jimin is unable to escort his precious sister through the gauntlet of corporate holiday galas, he blackmails his best friend Taehyung into being her chaperone. After all, who better to safeguard his headstrong sibling than a man who would never want her for himself? (She and Tae have spent the better part of a decade mutually disliking each other, and that’s putting it mildly.) Yet, even the best laid plans may go awry at Christmas and Kim Taehyung is about to discover that the girl he never wanted has become a temptation he cannot resist...

Genre: Comedy • Fluff  • Smut

Tropes: Brother’s Best Friend (Reader is Jimin’s Sister) • Enemies-to-Lovers

Collab: This work is part of the Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tropes Collab featuring original holiday themed works by @ppersonna • @xjoonchildx  • @underthejoon • @yeojaa​ • @untaemedqueen • and @snackhobi

Word Count: 17K (I know—I am shocked too honestly)

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: suggestive photographs • mention of accidentally being hit with a baseball • hints of jealousy and possessiveness • light tit slapping • explicit sexual content • m/f oral sex • consensual unprotected sex (shield it before you yield it y’all) • Viola’s mirror kink makes yet another appearance •

Acknowledgements:

To @ppersonna​ (Lindy) @underthejoon​ (Fal) and @xjoonchildx​ (Ana) you guys are my heart. Your support, willingness to read (and re-read) and give honest feedback made this fic special. Your friendship is my daily dose of awesome. Truly, I love you.

To @untaemedqueen​ (D) all of the above applies to you, but I owe you a little something extra for the LITERAL HOURS you spent in the doc with me. This fic would not be here without you. You kept me moving. You inspired me. You were amazing. Thank you so very much. This story is lovingly dedicated to you. 

To @hobi-gif​ for being the most thorough and incredible beta reader and for having all the important girl chats with me. I think you learned more about my past than you wanted... Either way you made this story better and I am profoundly grateful for the hours of time you spent. I have removed all the Hope-No-No words in your honor. 

To @lemonjoonah​ as always, you knew EXACTLY what I needed to tweak to make this story work. (Gotta pass that Lemon Litmus Test or no dice lol.) My lovely soul twin. You’re a bloomin’ rockstar. 

Please Picture This Taehyung:

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Yes. Because you absolutely owe me.”

“Then send me a bill, not your unmanageable harpy of a sister.”

Jimin raised a single unimpressed brow. 

“Kim Taehyung. It was exactly five years ago today that I carried your drunken naked ass two miles in the rain after you set your clothes on fire and sprained your ankle at that Beta Phi party.” He paused dramatically. “Do you remember what you said to me that night? After I deleted several pictures off phones and paid off half the party to keep it out of the papers?”

The man in question shifted uncomfortably.

“That incident is a bit hazy in my memory. I’m not sure I recall—”

“Jiminie—you’re the best and I—I owe… you. I owe you the most, Jiminie. I do—I owe you a favor—one BIG favor—anything you ask… Even though... I actually like being naked. I don’t think we need clothes. We should all be naked. Everyone. Then there would be world peace.”

Taehyung’s jaw dropped. 

“You RECORDED IT?!”

Jimin grinned, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

“Naturally. And I had it all ready to go—just in case you needed extra convincing.” He crossed his arms and fixed his best friend of nearly fifteen years with a triumphant smirk. “I’m calling in that favor today, Taehyung. Now are you a man of your word or not?”

“He did WHAT?!”

Your mother winced. 

“Jimin was... uncomfortable leaving you alone for the holiday season. He normally accompanies you to the galas but this year—”

“This year I was going to go alone and finally build my reputation as an asset to this family!”

Park Soomin sighed as she watched her daughter pace fiercely around the living room of their luxury suite. 

“No one doubts that you’re an asset, but… in light of recent events...”

Rage and embarrassment flared up in your chest before you could stop them. 

“This is about Milo… isn’t it?”

The silence that greeted your statement was confirmation enough. 

“Are you ever going to trust me again?” you whispered. 

“Oh sweetheart... it isn’t you we don’t trust...”

Tears burned at the corner of your eyes, but you ruthlessly blinked them back. 

You would play along with their humiliating schemes. 

For now.

“So which one of Jimin’s Ivy League brat pack did he blackmail into babysitting me? 

For the first time in the entirety of the conversation, your mother looked truly nervous. 

“Kim Taehyung.”

You tripped over your own feet and face-planted into the sofa. 

“Jungkook, I need to look into faking my own death. Nothing too over the top. Just a tasteful disappearance—”

The man in question could barely restrain his grin. 

“You don’t pay me nearly enough to deal with your mother in the event of your tragic demise and miraculous resurrection.”

“I could pay you more.”

“Or,” Jungkook replied with a heavy dose of judgment coloring his tone, “you could put on this ridiculous tie and stop trying to weasel out of it.”

“Sometimes I wonder why I pay you at all,” Taehyung growled, yanking the tie from the younger man’s grasp. “Clearly I’m not the one in charge.”

“Your words, sir, not mine. Now shall we go over the details and itinerary?”

If Jeon Jungkook wasn’t the best executive aide in the city (and one of his closest friends) Tae would have drop-kicked him right then and there.

“Could you at least try to look like you’re not enjoying this?”

“I’m sorry, sir. It was insensitive of me to ignore your suffering in this delicate time. The trauma of escorting a beautiful woman to a series of glorified buffets weighs heavily upon you.”

Taehyung tightened the tie so aggressively, he almost strangled himself.

“Beautiful woman?!” he wheezed. “We’re talking about the girl who showed up to our formal graduation party looking like she just escaped from Azkaban.”

Jungkook bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. 

“Tae… how long has it been since you’ve actually seen Ms. Park?” 

“Seen? Maybe three—four years.”

The heir-apparent of Kim Holdings avoided the public end of corporate culture like the plague, preferring to leave the requisite schmoozing to his personable cousin, Kim Seokjin. 

However, he had crossed paths with his adolescent nemesis in... other ways. 

Taehyung was romancing a lovely young socialite who suddenly ghosted him after someone told her that he wanted at least eight naturally-birthed children. 

Soon after, your favorite charity received an anonymous 30,000 dollar donation requesting that you be featured in the dunk tank for an upcoming benefit carnival and then the same anonymous patron paid for at least fifteen little league teams to attend. 

In retaliation, someone petitioned the National Aviary Society (chaired by a very influential senator’s wife that no one ever refused if they wanted their permits to go through) to make Taehyung the MC at their annual awards ceremony—knowing full well he was allergic to birds (not dangerously allergic—just enough to be miserable).  

Taehyung had sniffled and sneezed through approximately one hundred parrots, parakeets, and other assorted fowl until he was ready to commit murder. 

The last several years had been littered with similar incidents of the two of you taking thinly veiled potshots at one another. 

“I can’t imagine she’s changed very much,” Taehyung bit off absently. His mind was abruptly consumed by how he could get revenge for those demonic birds. 

He didn’t notice the smile creeping over Jungkook’s face. 

“No, sir. I’m sure she hasn’t changed at all.”

Taehyung had only ever had the wind knocked out of him once before. 

He was Dionysia High School’s star pitcher for three seasons and during one particularly tense game against JY Prep, Lim Jaebeom whacked a line drive right into his solar plexus. 

That’s how it felt to look up and see you at the top of the stairs. 

In his head, you were still the mischievous imp from his childhood. Every prank he played was directed at the fierce little fiend with braids and braces who’d knocked him and his date into the university fountain while experimenting with her friend’s skateboard. 

But she was gone… and in her place was something far more dangerous. 

A woman. 

Silken fabric wrapped tightly over curves you definitely didn’t have four years ago. That wild hair had been tamed into shining waves and pinned elegantly at the nape of your neck. The wicked slit that traveled all the way up your thigh teased a smooth shapely leg that all but demanded the viewer fantasize about running their hand up the length of it. 

Suddenly it was very clear why Park Jimin wouldn’t let his sister venture into the corporate cesspool alone. 

Because the sight of you could make a man desperate. 

Betrayal—of all things—slowly crept over Taehyung as you descended toward him like some sort of angel floating down from the heavens. 

His mind went blank. Just watching the seductive shift of your hips as you swayed ever closer felt like a violation of his friendship with Jimin. He could feel the judgmental stares of an imaginary Bro-Code Council boring into him from on high. 

“I see you’ve recovered from your memorable tenure as the Aviary Society’s Master of Ceremonies.”

And just like that the brat was back. 

Taehyung breathed a hefty sigh of relief, secretly thrilled to be in familiar territory with you. 

“Naturally I was delighted to help Senator Mitchell’s wife. In fact, Mitchell’s office just fast tracked all my pending permit requests for the new year.” He tilted forward, coming into your space a bit. “I should really send you a thank you card.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you scowled, breezing past him like an indignant queen. 

Tae could practically see the steam pouring out of your ears. 

“Of course not,” he chuckled.

The first gala of the holiday season was an extravagant annual affair hosted by Min Corp., a Seoul based investment firm that commanded billions in assets. This year, the theme of the event was the Joseon Dynasty and the entire ballroom had been gloriously transformed into a stunning celebration of the Min family’s royal heritage. 

Attendees were gifted their own traditional fan, each uniquely crafted by artisans from Damyang. Taehyung’s was all black with bold silver calligraphy while yours was a beautiful bamboo and silk piece decorated with pomegranate trees. 

You had already whacked three people with it by the time dinner was served. 

“It really is a pity these fell out of fashion,” you lamented. “They’re quite useful.”

“You are deranged,” Taehyung mumbled, massaging his temples in exasperation. 

“Nonsense. I only fanned those who deserved it.”

“Harkins?”

“He was staring at my rack for a solid minute.”

Taehyung could hardly blame the man, it was a battle he himself was losing after all, but Harkins was twice your age and married—therefore his ogling was in especially poor taste. 

“Okay... What about Kang?” 

“He was verbally abusing one of the waitstaff.” 

“Alright, fair enough, but why on earth would you go after sweet old Mrs. O’Malley?”

“She was about to grab your ass.”

Taehyung’s mouth dropped open.

“She’s eighty-five!”

“And still kickin’ apparently.” You shook your head in disgust. “As if I’d whack an eighty-five year-old woman for anything less than non-consensual touching.”

“I- I- mean—surely you must be mistaken,” he coughed. 

“Oh, there’s no mistake. That nasty old crone is a serial offender. She likes to play it off as dementia, but she’s as sharp as a tack. Last year she got a whole handful of Jimin. Honestly, I’d call the police on her, but the commissioner is her grandson so I doubt I’d get very far.”

Taehyung turned to the woman in question just in time to see her totter lecherously toward Jung Hoseok, fingers already twitching in anticipation. 

“Is nothing sacred?” he mused hollowly. 

You shrugged. 

“Many people who accumulate as much as our families have start believing that they are entitled to whatever strikes their fancy.” Your eyes met his with a hint of bemusement. “Surely you should be used to this sort of thing by now?”

“Yes, but I was hardly expecting it from little old ladies!”

The remainder of dinner was a terse affair where you pretended he didn’t exist for the entire meal and he in turn pretended that the spunky young heiress seated to his right was the most darling creature to ever walk the earth. By dessert she was ready to get married and you were ready to vomit. 

Afterward, Taehyung found himself quickly converted to your views on fan usefulness as you began strolling through the crowd intent on strengthening your family’s corporate ties. 

“Kim Taehyung,” you ground out through clenched teeth, “how am I supposed to do business if you keep stabbing everyone I speak to!”

“I don’t know what you’re implying. I’m simply not used to carrying one of these. I may have accidentally grazed a few overzealous individuals—”

“My last three conversations have been rudely disrupted by the blunt end of that accused fan.”

Taehyung crossed his arms smugly. 

“And what of it? Jimin sent me along to keep an eye on you and the gentlemen in question were hardly behaving themselves. No one has to put their hand in my back or lean that close to me when they’re talking business.” 

“That’s because no one wants to get that close to you,” you replied sweetly. “You’re gross.” 

A devastating grin slid slowly over his features as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear. 

“I can think of several women who might disagree.”

He just barely caught the hitch in your breath before- 

“Like who? Miss Blushes-and-Giggles from dinner?”

“Jealous?” Taehyung drawled cockily. 

“Only in your dreams, Kim.” Then, with a deliberate flick of your fan, you turned your back to him. “I’m headed for the ladies room. Do yourself a favor and don’t follow me in.”

It was twenty minutes before Taehyung realized that you slipped out the back entrance of the restroom. 

It took another ten for him to locate you on the balcony flirting outrageously with Min Yoongi. 

The young heir of Min Corp. was just leaning closer to whisper sweet nothings in your ear when a black fan slid right in between the two of you. 

“Lovely weather we’re having,” Taehyung observed cheerfully. His eyes bounced between you and Yoongi with barely concealed fury and you let out a miserable groan. 

“Mr. Kim,” Yoongi cleared his throat significantly. “What an… unexpected surprise.”

Frustration clawed at your chest as your overbearing guardian nodded smugly in response. 

It was time to teach him—and Jimin—a lesson. 

“Yoongi,” you sighed, sliding your hand pointedly through the crook of his arm, “I’m not feeling at all well. Would you perhaps… escort me home?”

Taehyung suddenly looked as if he’d swallowed a live octopus. 

Yoongi grinned, clearly thrilled with the prospect of simultaneously spending more time with you and irritating Taehyung. 

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Jimin is gonna kill me,” Taehyung grumbled as he watched Min Yoongi help you into the passenger seat of his Aston Martin. 

An ugly green feeling he refused to identify twisted sharply in his gut when you smiled coyly at the other man. 

“This is ridiculous,” he snarled to no one in particular before yanking his phone out of his pocket. 

Jungkook picked up on the second ring. 

“Sir?”

“I need you to drive to Ms. Park’s apartment and tell me if she goes in alone or if Min Yoongi goes in with her.”

“You want me to what?!” 

“Just do it!” he snapped, downing an entire glass of champagne before signaling his own driver. 

Fifteen minutes later his phone vibrated from the car seat next to him. 

1 New Message from: Jungkook

Her building has four separate entrances. Which one do I watch? 

Taehyung could practically feel the vein pulsing in his forehead as he scrolled through his contacts. 

You picked up on the fourth ring. 

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“Oh it’s you… Wait—how did you get this number?”

“Jimin. Obviously. Now please answer the question.”

“Oh a ‘please.’ Who knew you had manners?”

“Answer the question, Park. I’m tired.”

The distinct sound of a zipper unzipping carried through the speaker. 

“I’m at home, of course. Where else would I be? I just got here like a minute ago.”

He had a sudden vision of Min Yoongi helping you out of your dress. His grip on the phone tightened. 

“Are you alone?”

You snorted. 

“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”

Taehyung saw red. 

“I’m coming over.”

There was a loud crash and several colorful words in at least three different languages. 

“Wha- No! I’m trying to go to bed!”

“With who?!”

“With myself, you idiot!”

“Prove it!”

“Fine! I will!”

The line disconnected and Taehyung swore loudly. He was just about to direct the driver to your building when his phone went off again. 

1 New Message from: Park Gremlin 

He almost choked on his tongue. 

You were clearly in the middle of undressing and—in your irritation—probably hadn’t looked too carefully at the picture you sent.  

At first glance it was simply a shot of your empty room (presumably “proof” that you were alone) but you neglected to consider the floor-length mirror hanging in the far corner…

A mirror that showed you angrily holding up your phone with your gown pooled deliciously around your waist and the soft round swells of your breasts strapped into lacy red lingerie. 

You were exquisite. 

A fierce, hot sensation gripped him ruthlessly, and this time there was no mistaking it. 

Desire. 

Your phone lit up on the bed where you tossed it after snapping a photo for your tightly-wound man nanny. 

1 New Message from: Kim Grinch 

I didn’t know you liked Van Gogh. 

Your head tilted in confusion. 

There was a Van Gogh print in your room, but he couldn’t have seen it because it was behind you when-

Oh NO.

You gasped, scrolling back up to confirm what deep down you already knew to be true. 

… You just sent Kim Taehyung a topless mirror selfie. 

Several miles away, smiling smugly in the backseat of his town car, Taehyung was sure he could almost hear you screaming. 

“Good morning, sir. Which would you like first; the bad news or the worse news?”

Taehyung groaned from underneath his covers. 

“Don’t you ever knock? I could have a woman up here.”

“You’ve never brought a woman up here.”

“Is that the bad news?” Taehyung yawned. 

“No,” Jungkook tossed a small stack of newspapers and printed digital articles into his lap, “this is the bad news.”

Pictures of you, Min Yoongi, and even himself were splashed over the front pages of all of them. 

PARK ANGEL TRADES ONE CORPORATE HEIR FOR ANOTHER AT MIN GALA

WHO WILL WIN THE PARK ANGEL’S HEART? KIM TAEHYUNG OR MIN YOONGI? LET US KNOW IN THE COMMENTS

NEW ROMANCE ALERT? PARK ANGEL LEAVES JOSEON BALL WITH MIN SCION 

“The Park Angel?” 

“That’s what the media calls her... The public is rather fascinated with her actually.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Taehyung mumbled. 

“Of course not, sir. It’s a great mystery.”

As usual, Taehyung chose to ignore his aide’s lethal snark and pressed on to the matter at hand. 

“This is a flaming disaster.”

“Oh I don’t know. I really appreciated the picture of you staring on forlornly while she and Yoongi climbed into the Aston Martin. Takes a real gift to capture all that drama in a single frame.”

“Which one was that?!” 

“It’s right under the MAN DOWN: PARK ANGEL LEAVES KIM TAEHYUNG HEARTBROKEN headline.”

Tae ran his hand down over his face in exasperation. 

“I’m surprised my mother hasn’t called.”

“She has. Twice.”

“I don’t suppose that’s the ‘worse news’ is it?”

“No.”

“Of course it isn’t. I’m never that lucky.” He collapsed backwards into his pillows with a beleaguered huff. “Go ahead then. Tell me.”

“Park Jimin is on the line for you right now.”

After a small eternity on the phone with Jimin (assuring him that NO Min Yoongi had not despoiled his precious sister and YES he would definitely do better next time), Taehyung was forced to attend an impromptu brunch with his mother. It took considerable effort, but he was eventually able to convince her that you were neither breaking his heart nor expecting his child. 

By the time he arrived to collect you for this evening’s event, Taehyung was already sick of hearing your name (he’d spoken it no less than three hundred times since Jungkook woke him this morning).

You were in much the same boat as Taehyung, having spent most of the afternoon pacifying Jimin and clearing up your own mother’s romantic delusions regarding the Min and Kim heirs respectively. 

Tonight’s gala was a Victorian Christmas Ball thrown by the National Literary Fund and the entire venue had been transformed into a Charles Dickens fever dream. 

Unlike the Min Gala (whose theme was guarded like a state secret every year) the Literary Fund’s tribute to A Christmas Carol was tradition and you were dressed accordingly in a custom corset gown with gorgeous detailing. 

Every second of effort it took to lace yourself into the monstrosity was worth the look on Taehyung’s face the moment you slipped off your cape. 

“Something wrong, Mr. Kim?”

Taehyung was desperately trying to look literally anywhere but your chest, where said corset was serving up your breasts like a debauched buffet. 

Jimin. Think of Jimin. Think of what Jimin will do to you. Think of how much trouble she’s caused-

He peeked again.

I would pay a million dollars to suck those tits. 

“Nothing at all,” his voice cracked. 

The itinerary for the evening included performances by a local children’s choir, a traditional waltz, and—of course—dinner.

You both managed to get along without snapping at each other during the choral performance, but as two of the largest donors to the Children’s Literacy Initiative, neither of you could escape being drawn into the waltz. 

The energetic socialite who Taehyung flirted with over dinner the previous night eventually lured him onto the floor while you graciously accepted an invitation from a lovely older gentleman who chaired the Fund’s event committee. 

For the first few movements, you were thoroughly enjoying yourself. Mr. Lee was charming, respectful, and still an excellent dancer despite his advanced age. It wasn’t until a familiar sound caught your attention that the lightness in your chest suddenly felt heavy...

Taehyung was laughing. 

You heard him do so many times over the years, and in each instance, the carefree magic of it never failed to make your heart flutter. 

But now he was smiling down at the pretty little heiress and laughing for her… and the flutter in your chest was accompanied by something else. 

Something that felt an awful lot like longing. 

“Does he know you look at him like that?” Mr. Lee asked quietly. 

Your eyes flew guiltily to his, but it was too late. The old man had caught a glimpse of the secret you buried deeply for more than a decade; so deeply, in fact, there were times you almost forgot it yourself...

Almost. 

“No,” you whispered, “he has no idea.” 

Disaster struck at dinner. 

Taehyung quite liked dancing with the lovely Miss Something-or-Other. She was sweet and funny and (unlike with you) he wasn’t constantly torn between agitation and raging inappropriate lust in her presence. 

The cold shoulder you offered him when he took his seat seemed even more frigid than usual and he spent half the meal wondering what he’d done to earn your amplified disdain when suddenly—

Your hand smacked down on his wrist, seizing it in a vise-like grip. 

Taehyung nearly choked on his steak and was about to give you a searing set-down over your spontaneous grabby-ness when he noticed your expression. 

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, leaning forward in concern. 

“I-I need—” 

It looked as if you were in some sort of physical pain and Taehyung was rapidly becoming worried. 

“I need your help,” you finally managed to whimper and the next thing he knew, you were dragging him away from the table and into one of the secluded alcoves near the main entrance hall. 

“Is there anyone around? Can anyone see us?” The look on your face bordered on unhinged. 

“No. There’s no one. Park, are you okay? What’s going on I—”

“I need you to unlace my dress,” you hissed frantically. 

At that moment, a bomb could have gone off and Taehyung wouldn’t have blinked. 

You, however, were completely preoccupied with your own distress and therefore oblivious to his. 

“My earring broke during dinner and fell down there and now it’s stabbing me—”

Your eyes were beginning to tear. Taehyung remained frozen, still trying to figure out whether or not this was a lucid dream. 

“—it’s definitely pierced the skin and there’s a possibility I’m gonna start bleeding through the fabric—”

The mention of blood snapped him out of his daze somewhat. 

“A-Alright. Just turn around—brace yourself on that wall.”

You quickly did as you were told and Taehyung began to tug fruitlessly at the ties cross-crossing your back.

“Why won’t this—”

His fingers fumbled over the knots, desperately trying to loosen them, but they simply wouldn’t budge. 

“I can’t—I can’t get it. Whoever helped you into this thing made sure you weren’t getting out of it.” 

You whined in frustration and the earring shifted a bit in response. 

There was only one other way to fix this (and you would almost rather be in pain). 

“Taehyung I—” you turned to face him again, forcing your eyes shut before reluctantly doing what had to be done “... I need you to reach down the front of my dress and get it.”

He blinked. Twice. 

“I’m sorry—What did you just—”

“Please, Tae,” you whispered desperately, letting your lip tremble in a way he had never been able to resist, “it hurts…”

He gulped. 

His eyes dropped to the matter at hand.

This is fine. Everything’s fine. She’s in pain, right? You’re basically a doctor right now. You’re just going slide your hand in between the most mouthwatering pair of breasts you’ve ever seen and then—

Taehyung’s manic inner monologue was interrupted by the sound of his own moan. He immediately faked a coughing fit to cover it and prayed you hadn’t noticed. 

(You hadn’t. You were actively being stabbed.) 

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this,” he muttered, curling his fingers over the scalloped edge of the bodice. 

You bit your lip, desperately trying to hold back any reaction, but when his knuckle brushed the pebbled tip of your nipple, you gasped. 

Oh.

His hand stuttered, lingering a moment too long over the tight little peak as his gaze suddenly shot up to meet yours. Both of you had been studiously avoiding eye contact, yet now it was as if neither of you could look away. 

Taehyung wet his lips reflexively. 

“It’s too tight,” he whispered, “I need more leverage.” 

Then his arm wrapped over the curve of your lower back and he drew you tightly against him, anchoring your hips just enough to fully slip his hand between your body and the corset. 

You were so warm.

So soft...

“I can feel it,” he grunted, “but I can’t get a good grip on it.” 

His mouth pressed into a tight line as he leaned forward, bringing your back up against the wall. You let out a little squeak and his eyes darted briefly down to your mouth before he spoke again. 

“Hold on to me.”  

You nodded and wordlessly slid your arms around his waist.

If you concentrated hard enough, you could almost pretend that this wasn’t one of the most erotic moments of your life. 

You could almost pretend that it meant nothing. 

Your mind was spinning wildly, wondering what he was thinking, wondering if he noticed how strangely you were breathing or how hard your heart was beating...

“I’ve got it,” he murmured. Shivers shot down your spine at the dark timbre of his voice. 

He was so close. You could feel every word he spoke brushing softly against your skin. 

“On ‘three’ I’m going to pull it out… Are you ready?”

You drew in a final steadying breath. 

“Do it.”

He nodded. 

“One… Two… Three—”

Taehyung yanked his hand back and several things happened at once. 

Your breasts bounced almost entirely out of the corset. 

The decorative clasps on the front of your gown tangled with the buttons on his shirt and when he pulled back, three of them went flying off like stray bullets. 

And finally, the corset didn’t relinquish Taehyung’s hand quite quickly enough and, as a result, you toppled forward and crashed down on top of him, smashing your newly bare breasts to his newly bare chest. 

It could have been ten seconds or ten hours that passed by while the two of you lay there, breathing heavily in a pile of confused arousal when—

“... Is… everything alright here?”

You both looked up to find a thoroughly scandalized member of the waitstaff standing over you. 

Taehyung saw his life flash before his eyes—ending (of course) with Jimin murdering him for this. 

He gulped again. 

“I can explain.” 

It was decided—for the sake of appearances—that you would both leave the venue (immediately) in separate vehicles. 

Taehyung dropped a cool three hundred in crisp bills on the unfortunate waiter in order to help him ‘forget’ whatever he may or may not have seen. 

Neither of you spoke another word to each other in the ten minutes it took to bribe all the appropriate parties, gather your coats, and call for two separate town cars. 

Something had happened when he touched you; a subtle shift in the precarious balance of your relationship that you both felt keenly, but could not possibly begin to define. 

Taehyung barely even remembered climbing into the back of a vehicle. His body was firing on auto-pilot after the sensory overload of the last half hour. It wasn’t until he was nearly home that he realized he was still holding onto your earring. 

His mind began to wander as he examined the troublesome bauble in his palm. It was a striking piece; deceptively complex and unexpectedly beautiful. 

Just like you.

He told himself that the heat pooling low in his belly was anger—that the strange anxiousness to be near you was simply a desire for retribution—that it was merely platonic curiosity that left his hands aching to explore the rest of your curves. 

Lies.

… and pitifully transparent ones at that. 

Still, he clung to them desperately out of self-preservation. 

The gentle hum of his phone suddenly disturbed Taehyung’s silent contemplation. 

1 New Message from: Park Gremlin 

I made it home safely. 

Taehyung’s fingers were typing a reply before he could properly consider the consequence of his actions. 

To: Park Gremlin

I require proof… like last time. 

He nearly threw the phone the moment he sent it, running his hands down over his face in disbelief. 

You’re playing with fire, Kim Taehyung. 

And he was burning up already. He had no business sending you texts like that. Maybe you wouldn’t catch it. Maybe he could just-

The phone went off again and it was embarrassing how quickly he scrambled to open your response. 

His heart stuttered in his chest. His breathing ceased entirely-

And he knew—he knew—there was no coming back from this.

At first glance the photo was nearly identical to the shot you sent him last night. Same room, same angle… 

same mirror.

Yet this time, the reflection was quite different. 

The temptress in the glass wore nothing but that sinfully delicious corset and a pair of silky lace thigh highs, each accented with a green satin bow. 

He wanted to rip them off with his teeth. 

 “Oh Taehyung,” he whispered, as a dark wave primitive longing tore through him, “you are in so much trouble.”

Across town (buried beneath a pile of blankets) you were still struggling to process the boldness of your own actions when his response lit up your screen. 

1 New Message from: Kim Grinch

Green is my favorite color. 

“WHERE IS HE—”

Taehyung awoke to a series of crashes and shouts echoing from the floor below him. 

Jungkook was already seated in the corner of the room reading a newspaper. 

“Good morning, sir,” he said without looking up. “Would you like the bad news or the worse news?”

Suddenly the french doors of his bedroom slammed open and one very irate Park Jimin stormed through. 

“I swear I should have seen this coming. The two of you have always been obsessed with each other, but I never imagined—”

Taehyung’s eyes widened guiltily. He quickly schooled his features into a confused glare. 

“Jimin, I’ve only been awake for fifteen seconds. What the hell are you talking about?!”

Another stack of newspapers hit his lap and this time the pictures were mostly of him with his shirt ripped halfway down his chest. 

KIM HEIR AND PARK ANGEL CAUSE AN OLD-FASHIONED SCANDAL AT VICTORIAN BALL

FORGET MISTLETOE: KIM TAEHYUNG DISCOVERED UNDER THE PARK ANGEL AT CHRISTMAS CELEBRATION

NAUGHTY NOEL? PARK ANGEL’S STEAMY AFFAIR WITH CORPORATE PRINCE 

PARK ANGEL TOPS KIM TAEHYUNG’S CHRISTMAS TREE

He winced a bit at that last one. 

“You have ten seconds to explain before I start throwing things.”

Taehyung opened his mouth to do just that, but he was interrupted when his mother marched into the room waving the same articles that Jimin had just thrown at him. 

“KIM TAEHYUNG I raised you better than this! How could you!? That poor girl!”

“Mother!” he squeaked, yanking his blanket up over his chest like a frightened debutante. 

Jungkook began surreptitiously filming the whole debacle from the corner. 

“Indeed,” Jimin added darkly, crossing his arms over his chest, “how could you?”

Taehyung sighed heavily. 

“Is anyone else going to come charging into my bedroom?”

“Just answer me once and for all, is she pregnant?” 

“WHAT?!” 

“NO! Mother! Oh my—”

“Why does your mom think my little sister is pregnant?!”

Taehyung waved his arms wildly in exasperation. 

“My mom thinks everyone is pregnant! You know this!”

Jungkook could no longer contain his hysterical cackling. He very nearly fell off the chair trying to hold it all in. 

“Mr. Jeon,” Taehyung ground out irritably, “if it’s not too much trouble, could you please escort everyone out of my bedroom so I can get dressed!” 

“So you see—I was basically like a doctor,” Taehyung finished emphatically. 

He spent the past twenty minutes explaining to the entire table (which now included both you and your mother) why it was necessary to shove his hand down the front of your dress. 

Park Soomin had shown up at his door looking for answers (and dragging you behind her like a sacrificial lamb) about three minutes after Jimin. 

You had taken one look at Jimin’s murderous expression and insisted that the situation be evaluated over breakfast at the cafe down the street (where there were lots of witnesses). 

Which was how you, Taehyung, Jimin, and both your mothers ended up discussing your cleavage over coffee in a public restaurant. 

Jimin was the first to break. It was a few snorts at first, but he was basically in tears by the end of it, wheezing about how he never doubted Taehyung for a second and holding on to his sides from laughing too hard. 

Taehyung’s gaze met yours for a brief, heated exchange. He conveniently forgot to mention your slightly-less-than-explainable ‘check-in’ texts, but their existence was palpable in the air between you. 

“I think I’ll take a walk,” you muttered, excusing yourself from the complicated atmosphere at the table. 

Taehyung’s eyes lingered on you a tad too long as you wandered away, a fact that wasn’t missed by either of your mothers.

“Just a few more events and you can go back to not seeing her at all,” Jimin chuckled, patting him on the back. 

“Yeah,” Taehyung answered with a tight smile. “That’s… great.”

The cafe had a lovely little balcony area decorated with all sorts of comforting Christmas foliage. It was far more inviting than the awkward conversation and confusing stares you and Taehyung had been trading all morning. 

For the first time in the nearly fifteen years of your relationship (such as it was) you didn’t know where you stood with him… and it bothered you more than you cared to admit. 

Taehyung had always been important to you, whether you wanted him to be or not. He mattered—effortlessly—from the first moment you met him and continued to do so without regard for your sanity. 

Whatever was building between you now would almost certainly bring change… though what kind of change was anyone’s guess. 

It was hard to imagine the years ahead without the strange excitement he always brought to your life, but some things were simply out of your control…

“I never thought I’d see you here.”

A profoundly unpleasant feeling (something similar to falling through the ice on a frozen pond) overtook you. 

“Milo.” Even saying his name felt gross. You sighed. “What is so strange about seeing me here?”

The man in question blushed in a way you once found irresistible. 

“I looked for you everywhere. All your usual places—”

“I avoided them.”

I avoided you. 

Milo nodded. 

“I—I figured.” 

He took a step closer and you instinctively moved back. The hurt in his eyes was unmistakable, but you had long since become immune. 

“What are you doing?” you hissed angrily. “I thought I made myself clear the last time we spoke.”

“Yes, but—” his hand reached out to curl over your forearm and you recoiled, “you didn’t give me a chance to explain—”

“Excuse me.” 

You both turned to see Kim Taehyung with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Milo like he was a roach that crawled across his dinner plate. 

“Your mother sent me to come find you. She wants to leave.” 

You nodded and moved to pull away, but Milo’s grip tightened on your arm. 

“No—please if you just give me a minute—”

“That is enough,” Taehyung snarled, seizing the other man’s hand and forcibly removing it from your person. He angled his body between the two of you protectively. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

Milo’s eyes narrowed. 

“You’re Kim Taehyung. I read all about you in the papers this morning.” His lips twisted into an ugly sneer as he addressed you. “You really think you’re better off with him if that’s the way he treats you?”

Taehyung tensed menacingly beside you, but you laid a gentle hand on his arm to calm him. 

“None of that is any of your concern.” Your gaze rose to meet his defiantly. “Nothing about me is your concern anymore.”

Milo’s eyes fell to where your palm rested on the other man’s sleeve, noticing the way you both unconsciously leaned toward one another. 

“This isn’t over,” he muttered, storming off. 

After he was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. 

“Thank you,” you whispered (though you couldn’t resist adding), “I could have handled it myself of course…”

Taehyung laughed. 

“Oh I know. I was at that party where you knocked out Tyler Jung for grabbing your ass.” 

You grinned. 

“I’d forgotten about that.”

“Well I’m sure Tyler hasn’t.” 

(He neglected to mention that he split Tyler’s lip behind the library the next day, just to make sure it was extra memorable for him.) 

“I wish I could forget about Milo.”

“... Are you still in love with him?” 

The words tasted like ash in his mouth. 

“No.” You smiled softly. “I’m not sure I was ever in love with him actually. It’s more—” you sighed, “—embarrassment… wounded pride.”

Taehyung tilted his head curiously and you found yourself continuing. 

“In the beginning, he was very playful and charming—and obviously handsome. He reminded me so much of—”

you. 

You cleared your throat. 

“Anyway… I was quite taken with him at first. I didn’t suspect any ulterior motives.” You shrugged, trying to hold back the unpleasant emotions that always threatened to overrun you in moments like this. “I just thought he liked me.”

Taehyung’s eyes filled with sympathy and understanding as you spoke. It felt oddly natural to open up to him this way. 

“Jimin is very protective of me—with good reason it turns out. He was suspicious of Milo and hired people to do some discreet digging.”

Your hands wrapped around your body for both warmth and comfort. 

“Milo’s family owns several companies, just like ours, but they’re all struggling. His father sent him to me hoping that he would eventually get compromising information… a sex tape or photographs—something of that nature. They intended to blackmail Jimin into doing business with them.”

Taehyung felt his jaw clench painfully. Fury, hot and profound, rolled through him. 

“I should kill him.”

You shook your head, amused in spite of yourself. 

“That’s exactly what Jimin said.”

“He has good instincts.”

“Scum like Milo aren’t worth it,” you chuckled. “He never got what he wanted… but I was still mortified. I felt like such a fool for believing him.”

“No,” Taehyung’s hands slid up to cup your shoulders, “it’s not foolish to believe that someone cared for you.”

It would be so easy to care for you. 

“Besides…” his eyes fell briefly to your lips as he searched for the right words, “I saw the way he looked at you and—even though he’s clearly a terrible person—I believe his feelings may have been genuine.”

You nodded. 

“That’s what he keeps trying to tell me—that he did have bad intentions, but ended up falling for me anyway.” You shook your head. “As If I could believe a word he says.”

The silence between you stretched comfortably. Taehyung sensed you had more to say, so he waited until you were ready to voice it. 

“I think that’s why I’m so sensitive about handling things on my own lately… and just now even. I want to prove to everyone—to myself—that I’m not a liability.”

“Hey,” he whispered, tipping your chin up till your gazes met, “no one thinks you’re a liability. And even if you are capable, no one should have to fight their own battles all the time—especially when they’re emotionally compromised…” His thumb gently brushed away the small tear that escaped down the curve of your cheek. “That’s the benefit of having people who care about you.”

“... Like you?” 

The words left you so softly, you could almost imagine they were still in your head where they likely should have stayed. 

Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise. His gaze became even more intent and you ceased breathing altogether. After a moment his lips parted as if he was about to speak- 

“What’s going on, guys?”

You both jerked back at the sound of your brother’s voice. He was standing in the entrance to the balcony, gaze darting suspiciously between the two of you. 

Taehyung was a bit dazed, but you were always quicker on your feet. 

“I ran into Milo… Tae was calming me down.”

Jimin’s eyes hardened immediately. 

“Where is he?”

“Long gone,” you mumbled, ambling over to the familiar warmth of his arms. “I just want to go home.” 

The Black and White Ball was one of the most coveted invitations of the holiday season. 

The dress code was quite strict (all black or all white—no exceptions) and it was one of the few events where people actually arrived in limousines. 

Taehyung loathed limousines. He felt absurdly pretentious pulling up to your building in such a gauche ride, but traditions and appearances meant too much in his world to simply disregard them. 

His ensemble for the evening was a beautifully tailored black suit with hand-stitched baroque detailing. Oddly, he found himself wondering what you would think of it... 

“You look like a vampire.”

Taehyung turned at the sound of your voice and was struck, yet again, by how incredibly beautiful you were. 

You had chosen to wear white, donning an exquisite gown with delicate pearl beading and a daring sweetheart neckline that molded perfectly to your frame. 

If he looked like a vampire, you were surely an angel. 

Still…

Angel or not, he couldn’t let that comment pass. 

“I think I’m offended.”

“I can’t imagine why. After all, loads of women are attracted to Nosferatu.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed. 

��There are so many sexy vampires in popular culture, but you just had to lump me in with the creepy bald one...”

You shrugged playfully. 

“I wouldn’t want you to think I was going soft.”

A wicked grin danced over your lips as you strolled past him regally—just as you had many times before... 

This time, however, he let his eyes linger a little longer on the view. 

Lord have mercy. 

“Of course not,” he coughed. 

“You’re what?!”

You rolled your eyes.

Tonight had been going rather well. 

The two of you formed a mutual unspoken agreement to pretend that your last encounter on the balcony (and on the phone) had never happened and (despite the heated glances you occasionally traded) the bickering and playful banter characteristic of your relationship had all but returned to normal...

Until Taehyung learned of your participation in the evening’s main event. 

“I told you, I’m part of the date auction this year.”

“Does your brother know about this?!”

“I didn’t see any reason to bother him with it.” You were suddenly preoccupied with your nails. 

“Woman,” Taehyung sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “are you trying to make my life difficult?”

“No, I’m just naturally gifted in that respect.”

You turned and began making your way to the front, but Taehyung was hot on your heels and clearly not ready to let the matter rest. 

“I cannot believe you’re actually going through with this! It’s not 1810, you know. We shouldn’t just auction off women for dates—”

“You’re absolutely right, Tae Tae.” You brushed a condescending pat over his cheek. “Nowadays we auction off the men too.”

Then you sauntered off to join the rest of the participating women—and men—backstage, leaving Taehyung to stew about the entire situation from the crowd. 

“As you know, all proceeds from tonight’s auction go to fight childhood hunger right here in our city. For legal purposes, I must advise all bidders that you are only bidding on the company of the individual in question.”

Taehyung shook his head. “Jimin is probably going to kill me for this.”

“If you place the winning bid, then you and your date will receive two VIP tickets to the Governor's Winter Wonderland Gala which comes with a variety of amenities including; a luxury limousine service, one of the private and famously romantic Winter Wonderland dinner experiences—”

His eyes fluttered shut. “Jimin is definitely gonna kill me for this.” 

“—unlimited free drinks, ten complimentary tickets for each of the grand prize raffles, photos with the Governor and his family, along with many more surprises!”

Taehyung grabbed a champagne flute from a nearby waiter and downed it in one go. 

“And now for our first date of the evening! Mr. Jackson Wang!” 

Jackson went for a cool six grand because no one was brave enough to outbid his girlfriend. 

After him, the beautiful Manoban heiress and her handsome cousin Kim Namjoon went for twelve grand each.

Jung Hoseok started a frenzied bidding war between two young socialites and Mrs. O’Malley. He ended up going to the lovely Ms. Ana Fallon for a staggering twenty thousand dollars. 

Taehyung’s own cousin, Kim Seokjin, paid a jaw-dropping twenty-one thousand dollars for Lin Yuna, the young CEO of Lin Cosmetics. (Taehyung made a mental note to ask him about that later.) 

Then it was your turn. 

“The next lady on our list needs no introduction. The lovely Park Angel has graciously agreed to a date with one lucky bidder tonight! Who will it be? Do I hear ten thousand?”

“Ten thousand.”

Taehyung swung his head toward the first bidder and breathed a sigh of relief. 

Tam Martin, one of your best friends and very gay. 

“Eleven thousand.”

“Twelve thousand.”

“Fifteen.”

“Sixteen thousand dollars.”

“Seventeen thousand.”

“Eighteen.”

Taehyung was having trouble keeping up with all the bidders. His ears were starting to ring again and a strange unpleasant nausea was building in his stomach. 

“Twenty thousand.”

“Twenty-five thousand.”

“Thirty thousand!”

At the sound of the last bidder’s voice, you noticeably paled. Your eyes flew to Taehyung’s and immediately he knew exactly who it was. 

Milo.

Before he could even react to the new information, another voice joined the fray. 

“Forty thousand.”

Min Yoongi smiled smugly from the other side of the room and even had the audacity to throw you a wink. 

You smiled shyly at the young heir’s boldness and Taehyung felt something downright unholy rise up in his chest. 

No. 

Milo was still bidding. 

“Fifty thousand dollars.”

Not her. 

“Sixty,” Yoongi countered.

She’s mine. 

Suddenly Taehyung was on his feet. 

“One hundred thousand dollars!” 

The silence in the backseat of your limousine was deafening. 

Tension charged the air like an electric current as the significance of the last hour weighed heavily between you. 

The spacious luxury vehicle allowed you to sit facing one another. Taehyung’s eyes were focused on his hands, but you were looking at him—letting your mind run wild with speculation. 

And hope. 

Part of you was still there, on the stage, watching him stand up and bid a fortune for the pleasure of your company. 

His gaze was so fierce when he spoke, like an ancient emperor calling out his decree for the people to obey. 

You dreamed about him bidding on you when you signed up for the auction (even before Jimin bullied him into accompanying you). You let yourself imagine him speaking out again and again till the others stepped back—

Yet you never dared hope for it. 

However, the last several days marked an unexpected turning point in your relationship. 

For years, you and he were like magnets with a too-similar charge, but something had shifted irrevocably between you, and somehow your stubborn similarities became opposites that could not resist their attraction. 

Kim Taehyung was one of the wealthiest men in the city…

But he didn’t need to buy your heart. 

It had always been his, even if you didn’t want to admit it. 

He had claimed you tonight—and every single soul in that ballroom knew it. 

The next move was yours and you intended to make it. 

“Mmm,” you hissed a bit, bringing your hand to rest just below your breasts. 

Taehyung’s gaze flew up in concern. 

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, it’s just that scratch from the earring,” your fingers rubbed gingerly at the spot, drawing his focus to it, “it still stings.”

“Oh… I—” he shook his head, “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

“Do you want to see?” 

Taehyung’s eyes rose slowly to yours. 

You watched the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he considered your words. Anticipation vibrated through your blood like notes struck on a piano—

Then he nodded...

And you both were lost. 

Trembling fingers slid the zipper down the side of your gown. The dress itself was a marvel of physics designed to support you without the need for a bra. 

Taehyung drew in an impossibly deep breath as the fabric drifted to your waist, baring the perfect mounds of your breasts to him entirely. 

“Here,” you whispered, pointing to a small red mark just under the curve of your left one. 

He bit back a moan. 

“I—I see. That looks… painful.” His fingers dug into the seat beside him. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

You nodded. 

“Kiss it better.”

Taehyung felt the air knock out of his lungs like a sucker punch. 

This must have been how Adam felt when Eve offered him the forbidden fruit all those millennia ago. 

He knew he shouldn’t—

but he could never deny you. 

“Of course.”

You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He looked like a man possessed and you reveled in the power of it. 

It was for you. 

He wanted you. 

Your back arched up the slightest bit, beckoning to him—offering him a taste of what he was so desperately craving. 

Touch me… please. 

Large palms landed on either side of your thighs, bracing him on the seat beneath you. The tip of his nose teased the delicate line of your collar bone and he swore violently under his breath. 

Then his lips were on your skin and your mind went blank. 

“Taehyung—“ you moaned. 

Hot open-mouthed kisses spread over the soft swell of your breast and you gasped— shuddering helplessly as a fierce wave of pleasure tore through you.

Sweet merciful heavens. 

Over the years you imagined a moment like this thousands of times in your head—only to discover now that you had pitifully underestimated both his passion and his skill. 

You had dreamed of a quiet fire—but he had unleashed an inferno. 

The lewd sounds of his mouth nipping and sucking at your tender flesh filled the small space around you as he poured himself into each obscene contact—stopping briefly to flick his tongue over the taunt peak of your nipple. You trembled breathlessly at the sharp snap of sensation, letting your head fall back against the seat as you buried your fingers in his soft curls. 

“T-Tae—”

Finally his mouth fastened over the tiny scratch, and the kiss deepened. You knew what he was doing, what the result of his efforts would be—

He was marking you. 

And you wanted it. 

Oh how you wanted it. 

Suddenly the car took a sharp turn, causing Taehyung to lose his grip on the seat. His arms wrapped around your torso for balance, dragging you fully against him.

“Does it feel better, Angel?” he growled. 

You nodded frantically and he nipped at the underside of your breast. 

“Speak up.”  

“Yes, Taehyung,” you whimpered, “it feels so much better.” 

“Mmmm,” he hummed, brushing his mouth along the sensitive column of your neck. “Who knew you could be such a good girl?”

Then his hand came up to grip your chin, turning it so your lips were almost against his—

“Madame. We’ve arrived.”

The driver’s voice cut over your senses like a shard of ice. 

Taehyung jerked backward and immediately buried his face in his hands. 

Your fingers hastily yanked your dress up and you stumbled out of the car in a daze, letting your feet carry you forward until you collapsed on top of your bed. 

Did we just...

You hadn’t even begun to collect your thoughts when your phone buzzed from inside your purse. 

1 New Message from: Taehyung 🙄🥴🙈

I need to know you made it safely to your room. 

You grinned. 

Greedy boy. 

Back in the limousine, the boy in question was nervously tapping the corner of his phone against his chin as he waited for your reply. 

1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅

Oh? But you saw me walk in… and I’m already in bed.

Taehyung growled in frustration. 

She would be a tease. 

To: Angel 🤬🥵😅

I tend to worry. Put my mind at ease. 

He shook his head. 

I have officially gone insane. 

The phone buzzed again. 

1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅

Well… We can’t have that can we… 

Taehyung literally felt the whine tear out of him as he opened the picture. 

Your gorgeous body (the body he’d had his hands and mouth on for one glorious minute) was nestled decadently atop a pile of fluffy blue blankets and wrapped in nothing but a tiny silk robe. 

The neck gaped open just enough to show off the pretty red marks he left on the delectable curve of your breast. 

He groaned, biting down hard on his bottom lip.

To: Angel 🤬🥵😅

That's all I get after I made the pain go away? Good girls send real proof, Angel

The screen lit up again almost immediately. 

1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅

Guess I’m not such a good girl after all...

Jimin came tearing through the Kim Manor front gate at precisely 7 AM—only to find Jungkook camped out at the entrance with several outdoor space heaters and a giant mug of hot chocolate.

“He told you not to let me in, didn’t he?”

Jungkook took a long satisfying sip of his cocoa. 

“I hope you don’t feel singled out, sir. I’m not allowed to let his mother in either.”

“I need to talk to him.”

“Of course, Mr. Park, let me just pull up his schedule—”

“I need to talk to him now.”

“I’m afraid Mr. Kim is booked solid for the morning.”

Jimin stomped his foot like a petulant child. 

“I know he’s up there.”

Jungkook grinned. 

“You’re welcome to climb the trellis and check. I promise not to stop you if you make it all the way up.”

“COME DOWN HERE AND FACE ME YOU COWARD!” Jimin shouted at the top of his lungs. 

Jungkook took another long pull of his drink. 

“Might I inquire as to the reason for your visit today, sir?”

“The reason for my visit,” Jimin yanked out his phone and angrily began typing into the search bar, “is that your boss paid ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS for my sister at a date auction last night and I want to know what the hell is going on between them!”

The article Jimin pulled up (DEVILISH KIM TAEHYUNG BUYS HIMSELF A $100,000 ANGEL) featured an image of the two of you entering the Black and White Ball. Your head was thrown back in laughter and Taehyung was grinning down at you as if you’d personally hung all the stars in the sky for him. 

A genuine smile crept over Jungkook’s face as he studied the photograph. 

“That’s quite a headline.” He handed Jimin’s phone back. “Have you asked your sister about it?”

“No, I swung by earlier, but she wasn’t home so—” His eyes widened. “Oh my—is she—”

Jimin suddenly took off running for the trellis, and Jungkook scrambled out of his chair to chase him. 

“KIM TAEHYUNG IF MY SISTER IS IN THAT ROOM—”

He was already three feet off the ground when Jungkook yanked him back. 

“I thought you said I could climb the trellis!”

“Yes,” Jungkook wheezed, “but I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” That trellis is a hundred years old! A few more feet and I’d be scraping you off the antique brickwork!”

Jimin scowled and crossed his arms. 

“Are you by any chance open to bribes?”

“Normally yes, but Tae promised to double my Christmas bonus if I didn’t accept them today.”

Jimin continued to eye the trellis speculatively, clearly willing to take his chances. Jungkook sighed and rubbed his forehead. 

“Mr. Park, I promise you… He came home alone last night. In fact, they both returned earlier than usual because your sister had a 7 AM finance meeting.” He paused significantly to glance at his watch. “Which is probably where she is right now.”

“Oh… Well.”

Jungkook bit his lip to hold back a snort and Jimin’s eyes narrowed. 

“He has to come down eventually.”

“One would think.”

The young Park heir glanced toward Taehyung’s window again just in time to see the man in question dart back behind the curtains. 

"I KNOW YOU'RE AWAKE, KIM TAEHYUNG, YOU PHILANDERING SLEAZE BAG!" 

Jimin made another jump for the trellis and this time Jungkook caught him in mid-air. 

“Sir, I’m sure it was just the maid!”

“It’s not the maid! I’d know that raggedy mop of his anywhere!”

Jungkook was out of breath at this point. Park Jimin might be small, but he was fierce. 

“Perhaps it’s best if you took a moment to collect yourself,” he grunted. “There’s a lovely new spa down the street and they sent Taehyung two free deluxe packages.”

Jimin stopped struggling. 

“Oh?”

Five minutes later, Jungkook sighed deeply and fished his phone out of his back pocket. 

“He’s gone, sir.”

“Excellent work, Jungkook. I never doubted you for a second.”

“However…”

“... However?”

“I had to give him your spa passes.”

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

“Are you headed for a gala or the guillotine?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t pay extra for commentary.”

“It’s complimentary, sir.”

The Kim heir tugged absently at the material of his absurdly expensive evening wear. 

Why do these events always have to be so uncomfortable? 

“Seriously, Tae… you seem,” the young aide searched for the right words, “unusually tense.”

Taehyung’s mind flashed back to three nights ago when he had his mouth wrapped around your breast. 

“Not at all,” he coughed, loosening the collar of his shirt. 

Jungkook bit his lip.

“Is this about Ms. Park, sir?”

The cufflinks Taehyung was attempting to fasten suddenly went flying across the room and hit a lamp. 

Both men winced. 

“I think that was your grandmother’s.”

Taehyung sighed. 

“I admit there have been… some developments.”

Jungkook nodded nonchalantly, trying to disguise the fact that he was internally frothing at the mouth for details. 

“... Such as?”

Taehyung gulped. 

“It started out rather innocently I suppose…” he cleared his throat, “but there may have been some suggestive photographs.”

“There may have been? Are you not sure?”

Taehyung colored guiltily. 

“Well—”

“Do you need me to check for you, sir? I have an art history degree.”

“Absolutely not.”

Jungkook grinned. 

“That’s what I thought.”

Taehyung yanked his tie out of the younger man’s hand. 

“Things have… escalated a bit.”

“Escalated how?”

I licked her tit in the back of a limo.

“Physically.”

It was everything Jungkook could do to maintain a straight face. 

“That’s… shocking.”

“Then why don’t you seem shocked?” Taehyung grumbled. 

A small smile played across Jungkook’s lips as he pointedly ignored the elder man’s observation.

“So what are you going to do, sir?”

Taehyung was silent for a long moment. 

“I honestly have no idea.”

Watching you walk toward him was an experience.  

Taehyung wondered absently if this was how it would be from now on; if for the rest of his life just the sight of you would be enough to scatter his mind and his pulse and even the way he breathed. 

Your dress tonight was deadly. 

It was a decadent red satin halter that clung to every curve. The truly wicked detail, however, was a daring slit that ran the entire length of your leg. 

Taehyung was certain he was going to trip over his own tongue at some point if he looked directly at you for too long. 

Oh help. 

Memories of your previous encounter flooded his senses. Every second you were getting closer and he didn’t know what to do—what to say. 

So he didn’t say anything at all. 

Not a word when you reached the bottom of the stairs. Nothing but silence as he opened the door of the limo for you. More silence and no eye contact as he settled into the seat across from yours—

And you tolerated that for about three minutes. 

“I never thought I’d see the day when Kim Taehyung didn’t have a comment about something. Perhaps I should mark this down on my calendar.”

The words were lightly spoken, but you were shaking on the inside. The last time the two of you were alone together he had your dress around your waist and you were moaning his name. Now he wasn’t talking and you were torn between panic and irritation. 

Taehyung, however, latched onto your passive barb like a lifeline. 

“Is that a hint of sarcasm I hear from the benevolent Park Angel?” He grinned. “Surely not.”

“Red is not a particularly angelic color. Perhaps I’m feeling feisty today.”

Taehyung leaned back in his seat and indulged himself in a thorough examination of your outfit. The urge to run his hands over the satin-covered lines of your body was nearly unbearable. He curled his fingers into fists to keep them from doing just that. 

She is definitely trying to kill me. 

“Should I be worried?”

Now it was your turn to grin. 

“I guess we’ll find out.”

The Governor’s Winter Wonderland Gala was by far the most extravagant event of the holiday season. Tickets cost a small fortune and sold out almost immediately. 

But it was well worth the price of admission.

Thousands of lights sparkled overhead as you made your way through the great hall of Governor Kim’s mansion. 

It was like stepping into a fairytale. 

Taehyung couldn’t take his eyes off you. The sheer wonder in your expression was breathtaking. 

You were breathtaking.  

“Governor Kim, it is such an honor to finally meet you.”

The Governor was a handsome man in his early fifties with a smile that was every bit as lethal as it had been twenty-five years ago. 

“The honor is all mine, Ms. Park. I trust my nephew is treating you well.”

Your eyes widened. 

“N-nephew?”

Taehyung shrugged. 

“I don’t really talk about it much.” 

The Governor chuckled and you cleared your throat to cover your nervousness. 

“Yes, he’s been a very capable escort.”

“Is that so?” Governor Kim smiled charmingly. “Well if it doesn’t work out, my son Seokjin is still single—”

“Thank you, Uncle. It was lovely to see you as always.”

You squeaked as Taehyung placed his hand firmly on the curve of your back and practically dragged you away. 

The Governor just shook his head and laughed. 

“Oh kid, you’ve got it bad.”

Everywhere you looked there was beauty. 

Whoever planned the gala this year had truly gone above and beyond. Surrounded on all sides by glittering trees and snowy vignettes, it was easy to be swept away in the festive magic of the evening. 

All in all (despite some initial awkwardness), you were having a fantastic time...

Until she showed up. 

“Kim Taehyung! Is that you?”

Every single hair on your body stood on end, but before you could determine the source of the shrill squealing, you found yourself being nudged aside by a blinding golden gown and some very high heels. 

“Aubrey,” Taehyung grunted as five-and-half feet of gorgeous wrapped herself around him like a clinging vine. “Long time no see.”

“Not since that vacation in Aspen,” she giggled. “We had quite a time, didn’t we Tae Tae!”

Suddenly you had the most unholy urge to slap the spray tan right off this woman. 

Instead, you plastered on a vibrant smile and placed your hand on Taehyung’s sleeve.

“Um. Excuse me, Tae Tae, perhaps you could introduce us?”

Taehyung looked as if he’d just been served raw fire ants for dinner. 

“Yes. Of course. This is—”

“Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine,” she interrupted with a smug little smirk. “Taehyung and I go way back.” Her expression grew just the slightest bit tighter. “And you are?”

“His date,” you deadpanned. 

“Aubrey,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “I’d like you to meet Ms. Park she’s—”

“Oh my goodness! You’re Jimin’s little sister aren't you!” Aubrey slapped her hand over his chest and he winced. “That is so precious of you to take her around like this!”

Your eyebrows raised right up into your hairline and Taehyung groaned. 

“Yes, he was kind enough to sign me out of the nursery for the evening.” You offered them both a painfully vacant nod. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I see one of my play-dates near the buffet.”

Then you turned on your heel and sauntered off without another word. 

Taehyung moved to follow you, but Aubrey curled her fingers into the crook of his arm and pulled him back. 

“Oh let her go, Tae. You and I have so much catching up to do.”

Taehyung pointedly removed her hand from his elbow. 

“Some other time perhaps.” 

Aubrey pouted prettily. 

“You’re not running off after her are you? She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.”

Taehyung crossed his arms and fixed her with a knowing look. 

“Funny... that’s not what you were implying a moment ago.”

“A moment ago I didn’t have you all to myself. Now I do.” She had the decency to blush. “Perhaps I got a bit jealous.”

“You don’t say.” His eyes continued to search the crowd for any sign of you. 

“It seems I had good reason to be,” she murmured quietly. 

“Aubrey... Listen I—”

She cut him off with a finger to his lips.

“Don’t bother Tae Tae. I’m petty, but I’ve never been pathetic.”

He grinned. 

“Never.”

The lady sighed and gave him a heated once over.

“What a shame.”

Then she strolled off with a rueful smile. 

“You know what I don’t understand?”

You turn to find Min Yoongi leaning casually against a nearby column. He looked absurdly handsome as always, but his grin was just the slightest bit mischievous. 

“What don’t you understand, Mr. Min?”

The question was clearly a bait, but you were still fuming from your earlier encounter with Ms. St. Valentine and therefore desperately in need of a distraction. 

Yoongi pushed off the column and lazily made his way toward you.

“I don’t understand how a man pays a hundred thousand dollars for an evening with the most beautiful woman in the city, and then leaves her all by herself.” He leaned forward with a playful grin. “Perhaps you could enlighten me?”

Oh he’s good. 

You made a show of tapping your chin thoughtfully. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that one.”

Yoongi sighed and shook his head. 

“Couldn’t be me.”

You laughed then. He really was a delightful man. In fact, if you still had your heart, you might have considered letting him take a shot at it. 

Alas. 

You tilted your head speculatively. 

Surely there was no need to brush away good company...

After all, no one else is interested in spending time with me. 

“Since my escort is otherwise occupied, perhaps you could join me for dinner?”

Yoongi held out his hand. 

“I’d be delighted.”

Taehyung wandered around the mansion for nearly forty-five minutes looking for his date.  

Panic was just starting to build in his chest when he finally spotted you

—at his private dining table with Min Yoongi. 

It was everything he could do not to storm over and yank the other man out of his seat by the lapels. 

Alright, Angel. If this is the game you want to play… then let’s play. 

Taehyung felt his anger rise with every step, but he ruthlessly suppressed any sign of it and instead adopted a charming smile. 

“Min, I didn’t expect to find you here. What a… delightful surprise.”

Yoongi’s expression was just a shade too satisfied. Taehyung could already feel his blood pressure beginning to skyrocket. 

“Yes, Ms. Park believed that you were otherwise occupied and invited me to share the meal with her.”

“I see,” Taehyung practically snarled. “However,” his gaze landed heavily on you, “since I paid for this table, I hope you won’t mind if I join you as well?”

You avoided looking at him up to this point, but now you were choking on your wine

“Easy there, Angel,” Taehyung murmured as he pulled up a seat extremely close to yours—so close that your thighs were nearly touching. 

Oh boy. 

Over the next several minutes Yoongi continued to flirt openly and you continued to smile prettily and pretend Taehyung wasn’t there (which naturally infuriated him). 

You should have known he wouldn’t let you get away with such behavior so easily. 

This was Kim Taehyung, after all, and if there was anything that could be counted on when it came to your shared history, it was that one (or both) of you was always ready to escalate. 

You had just offered the young Min heir yet another flowery compliment when you felt Taehyung make his move. 

Two warm fingers slid under the silken slit of your dress, coming to rest possessively over the soft flesh of your inner thigh. 

You squeaked and nearly spat up your drink. 

Taehyung leaned forward in fake concern, wrapping his arm around you as if to offer aid. 

“Are you alright?”

His hand continued to move significantly beneath your gown, but his face was the picture of innocence. 

You glared. 

“Just fine, thank you.”

A slow grin crept across his features as he began to trace soft intimate patterns over your skin.  

On the other side of the table, Yoongi tilted his head in genuine solicitude. “Are you sure?”

You nodded sharply. 

Satisfied, he resumed speaking about whatever it was he’d been saying—though you couldn’t understand a word of it at this point because the torturous strokes Taehyung was leisurely drawing over your thighs were moving closer to your center with each passing second. 

Yet you made no move to stop him. 

You should have. 

You should have slapped his touch away—rebuked him for his boldness—

But you didn’t. 

So he just kept nodding and smiling while Yoongi spoke, even as his fingers teased you with the maddening persistence of a man who knew very well what he was doing. 

You gasped aloud when he finally brushed the pad of his thumb over the thin cotton of your panties. 

“T-Taehyung—” 

“Hmm?” he turned to you, seemingly surprised by your attention (it was—after all—the first time you’d addressed him since the beginning of the meal).

“Could you pass me the salt,” you sputtered (hoping to cover the fact that you moaned his name involuntarily). Unfortunately, Taehyung seemed wholly aware of your ruse, offering you the salt shaker with a superior smirk.

You seriously considered stabbing him with a fork. 

However, before you could carry out any bloodthirsty plans, he pressed his fingers directly over your clit and your eyes rolled back in your head

“Oh my g—” you bit your lip stubbornly, “this lamb is just so good.” 

Sweet mother of macaroons, he is too skilled at this. 

You shoveled another bite into your mouth to cover your whine as Taehyung began to rub tight little circles over your sweet spot. 

Across the table, Yoongi nodded in blissful unawareness. 

“Yes, I agree, the lamb is excellent—very tender.”

Taehyung took advantage of the momentary distraction to slip beneath the fabric of your undergarment. 

Your fork clattered to your plate and your hand came up to cover your mouth as he began running his fingers up and down your soaked slit.

It was everything you could do to hold back your depraved whimpering. 

“I can’t wait to taste it,” Taehyung replied, flicking your clit in a way that guaranteed he wasn’t referring to the lamb. 

At this point Yoongi seemed to notice you were in some sort of distress. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and leaned forward. 

“Ms. Park, are you well?”

Taehyung chose that moment to sink his finger into the welcoming heat of your pussy. 

“Yes,” you almost sobbed, “I’m-I’m very well—thank you.”

“Excellent,” Yoongi smiled as he rose to his feet. “If you’re feeling up to it, perhaps you could favor me with a dance?”

Several attendees were already making their way to the center of the floor and the orchestra was beginning to play.

Your entire body, however, was vibrating like a plucked harp string and Taehyung was still brushing back and forth against your clit, driving you toward a release that promised to be explosive. 

There was no way—simply no way—that you would be capable of hiding it. 

“Yes! I would love to dance with you,” you squeaked, grabbing hold of Taehyung’s wrist frantically. The feel of him pulling out of your sopping core was nearly enough to have you coming right there. 

Thankfully, Yoongi remained utterly oblivious to the debauchery unfolding beneath the table. He took your hand and helped you to your feet with an eager smile (and it was a good thing too because your legs were still shaking). 

When the two of you reached the dance floor, you turned back for the briefest instant—

just long enough to meet Taehyung’s heated gaze as his lips closed over the finger he buried in your cunt. 

Emotions were a funny thing. 

They impacted your judgement, affected your body, altered your behavior… 

And occasionally eroded your common sense. 

Sitting alone in the corner of the Governor’s ballroom, Kim Taehyung found himself experiencing a full spectrum of emotional side-effects. 

His hands clenched as he watched Min Yoongi spin you around the floor. 

His heart pounded every time he caught a flash of your shapely leg peeking through the slit in your gown. 

His blood boiled when you threw your head back and laughed at something the other man said. 

It was difficult to pinpoint which emotion was to blame for each of these reactions. There were certainly a number of them boiling over in his subconscious. 

Frustration—

I didn’t even want to talk to Aubrey! How are you acting like anything she said was my fault?!

Rage—  

Why is challenging people to duels illegal? I would fight Min Yoongi at dawn. I would fight Min Yoongi now. 

Jealousy—

You asked her to dance while my fingers were in her pussy. We are not the same. 

But perhaps the most persistent—the most overwhelming— emotion twisting through him was longing. 

You and Taehyung spent nearly four years apart, and he was so desperate to be near you—even then—that he resorted to childish pranks in order to remain a part of your life. 

He hadn’t recognized his actions or desires for what they were. He hadn’t realized what you meant to him...

But now, after spending the last several days with your hand on his arm and your laughter in his ear, he could no longer imagine spending another moment without you. 

Everything seemed to crystallize as he watched you laughing and dancing in the arms of another man. 

Uncertainty became clear. Complications became simple. 

And when he saw Min Yoongi’s hand slide dangerously close to the perfect swell of your backside—

Emotion became action.

“Mind if I cut in?”

It wasn’t a question really. Taehyung was already shouldering his rival out of the way and pulling you into his arms. 

“Taehyung,” you hissed, shooting the bewildered Yoongi an apologetic look over his shoulder, “what are you doing? This is so rude—”

“You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, sweeping you through the couples on the floor with practiced ease. “It is unpardonably rude to steal someone else’s date. He’s lucky all I did was steal you back.”

Your mouth dropped open. 

“Oh? So you finally remembered that I was your date?”

Taehyung’s grip on the curve of your waist became a shade rougher as he pulled you through the next turn. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means—” you stepped forward vigorously, nearly smashing your body into his, “—that you spent forty-five minutes with Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine when you were supposed to be having dinner with me!”

Taehyung growled and yanked you flush against him. 

“I spent forty-five minutes looking for you while you were giving away my table to Min Yoongi!”

The two of you sailed through the next several movements glaring at one another before you snapped again. 

“None of this would have happened if you had just told Aubrey St. Spray Tan that you were with me—”

“I did!”

“Instead, you let her call me a baby!”

“What let? Aubrey is a grown woman!”

“But—”

“And—you stormed off before I could say anything, so how would you know what I let?”

“You didn’t come after me!”

“Yes actually I did—but she grabbed my arm!”

“Really? Well what else did she grab?”

Taehyung abruptly realized how silent everything around you had become. 

People were staring—and not even discreetly— just full on staring with their mouths hanging open. 

Well that’s great. 

Taehyung’s hand closed around yours and you suddenly found yourself being marched across the dance floor at a breakneck pace.

“What are you doing?”

“Continuing this discussion in private.”

“We can’t just go somewhere private in the Governor’s mansion!” you sputtered, struggling to keep up with his larger strides. 

“You mean in my uncle’s house? Yes—actually we can—and we will.”

Taehyung proved to be a man of his word, dragging you past two security guards and into the roped off section of the manor with nothing more than a nod. 

The residential wing of the Governor’s home was beautifully decorated with traditional Korean artistic touches—all of which you were unable to appreciate while Taehyung was speed walking you through the halls. 

After a surprising amount of turns and archways, he yanked open an ornate wooden door with the words Reflection Suite written on a plaque above it in beautiful calligraphy. 

You almost giggled when you got a look inside. 

On the surface it was a tastefully furnished guest room with a simple cherry wood desk and a cozy double bed set in an elegant matching frame.

However—

The ceiling and one full wall were nothing but massive mirrors. 

Reflection suite indeed. 

The door slammed shut and Taehyung rounded on you with a stormy expression—though you weren’t waiting on him to fire the first volley.

“This is definitely going to get us in trouble.”

“I told you, I can go wherever I want in this house. It’s fine.”

“Then why did you take us here?”

“Because you were shouting—”

“I was shouting?! You were shouting I just—”

Suddenly your back was against the wall and Taehyung’s mouth was on yours. 

He hadn’t brought you here for this. When he grabbed your hand, he was only trying to get away from the crowds. He told himself that he needed privacy so you could talk—so he could clarify things. 

But the minute the door closed and you flared up again in all your magnificent rage, he was lost. 

He had to kiss you then. 

You were so lovely. So fierce. So wildly irresistible and he was too utterly smitten to fight the need to be near you—to be with you in every way that he could—for a single second more. 

The shock of Kim Taehyung pressing his lips to yours lasted about two full seconds—and then there was nothing but ravenous insatiable need. 

Finally. 

Everything was him. 

Everything was this—this sweet indescribable ignition of a desire that spanned years. You moaned eagerly against his mouth in wanton delight. After a decade of sparks, you were more than ready to burn. 

“Taehyung—”

His name poured out of you like a prayer. You needed him everywhere and miraculously he seemed to understand—

Not that he was prepared to be polite about it. 

“Where’s that smart mouth now, Angel?” he growled, tangling his hands in your hair to expose the tender column of your throat. “Nothing to say?”

Your only answer was a desperate whine as he spread hot-open mouthed kisses down the soft skin of your neck all the way to your collarbone.

Now was not the time for patience. He would be tender with you later. You absolutely deserved soft sweet caresses and slow leisurely love making and he was absolutely going to give them to you—every day if you’d let him. 

But not today. 

The minute his mouth encountered the barrier of your dress, he gripped onto the sides and yanked it down to your waist.

“You knew just what you were doing in the back of that limo, you little brat,” he hissed, taking one swollen nipple into his mouth and tormenting it with his tongue.

“Tae-ahhh!” Your back arched involuntarily in ruthless pleasure. 

“I spent hours—days even—wanting to get my hands on these perfect tits.” He licked the other nipple obscenely, squeezing the soft mound till it bulged through his fingers. “And you offered me the barest taste with that coy little grin, knowing it wouldn’t be enough—” 

He reared back and landed a firm slap on both breasts and you screamed.

It was so so good. 

“Look at them now,” he murmured, “so swollen and needy and mine.”

If any other man had said those words, you would have cut his heart out with a butter knife. 

But you had always belonged to this man body and soul, and to hear him acknowledge it so primitively felt like the sweetest vindication. 

“Yes!” you sobbed.

The affirmation only inflamed him further. He teased and fondled the tender flesh till you were shaking.

Your fingers curled into the soft waves of his hair as he indulged himself. He looked so ridiculously good sucking your nipple, moaning lewdly with his eyes pressed shut in cathartic bliss. 

“This is all your fault, Angel,” he groaned. “You just don’t know how to behave.”

His hands gripped the curve of your backside, lifting you right off the floor and into his arms. Your mouths fused together heatedly as he carried you to the bed, and you giggled against him when his words finally processed. 

“You’ve been saying that for years.” 

“It’s been true for years,” he muttered, pulling one of your legs up around him so he could grind against your cunt while you kissed. 

Your fingers tugged at the buttons of his shirt, tearing them off when they didn’t unhook fast enough. You waited too long to be with him like this to care about anything other than the feel of his skin against your own.

“Impatient, are we?” he chuckled, bringing his lips around to nip at your ear. 

“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, yanking the ruined garment right off his shoulder just so you could sink your teeth into it. 

Taehyung moaned loudly, snapping his hips against yours with an involuntary jerk.

“You really are such a brat,” he hissed, fisting his hands in the satin length of your skirt. “Let’s see how fierce you are with my tongue in your pussy—”

His words were so filthy and raw, yet they stoked a frenzied need in your belly like nothing you had ever encountered. 

“This dress is evil,” he snarled, fumbling with the zipper for a moment before switching to a more destructive tactic. “It has tormented me all night and now it’s in my way.”

The stitching proved no match for his resolve, and—after a few vigorous tugs—he ripped it apart from the slit on up, leaving you covered in nothing but the thin cotton underwear he had breached earlier that evening. 

After disposing of your shredded gown, Taehyung paused for a moment just to take in the sight of you. 

“What a perfect little angel,” he taunted playfully, snapping the band of your lingerie against your hips with a cocky grin. 

Then he brushed his nose right up against the sopping fabric and inhaled deeply. “You smell just like heaven,” he growled before licking you right through the cloth, “and you taste even better.”

The sensations twisting through your body were merciless. You needed more or you were going to shake apart. 

“Taehyung please,” you whined, pressing against him shamelessly.

“Oh a please?” he chuckled, throwing your own words from the first night back at you. “Who knew you had manners?”

You would have screamed in frustration, but he cut you off with an open mouthed kiss right over the wettest part of your panties.

“Perhaps I can make a good girl of you yet,” he chuckled, as you opened yourself wider to encourage him. 

You nodded frantically, letting out another moan when he yanked the flimsy little scrap of lace down your legs—smearing a line of arousal over your thighs.

“So messy,” he tsked, tapping his finger right above your knee where the naughty little streak ended. “What am I going to do with you?” 

Then he pressed his tongue over the shiny trail of slick and licked it right off. 

You gasped loudly and his lascivious smirk was almost beautiful enough to make up for all of the shameless teasing. 

Almost. 

"You want my mouth, pretty Angel?” he whispered, letting the words brush maddeningly against your folds. “You want me to feed on this sweet little cunt?”

Every cell in your body cried out for release. He already edged you under the table at dinner and now he was determined to unravel you entirely. You would say anything—do anything. 

"Please—" you whispered.

"Please who?" 

Normally you met his arrogance with a cutting riposte, but an entire evening of methodical torment had left you beyond desperate. 

"Please Taehyung,” you begged needily. 

He grinned. 

“That’s right, Angel. Kim Taehyung. Not Min Yoongi or any other pathetic trust fund prick that’s panting for a taste of this pussy.” His eyes fastened on yours significantly. “You belong to me.”

Then his tongue licked a flat stripe over your glistening slit and you sagged onto the bed in relief—only to be thrown back into oblivion when his lips closed over your clit. 

Your body arched involuntarily as a ruthless wave of pleasure tore through you. Your eyes and mouth flew open in a silent scream and it was in that moment you remembered exactly where you were. 

Underneath a giant mirror. 

The passionate woman staring down at you was nearly unrecognizable. Her body was littered with her lover’s marks. Her hands gripped feverishly into the sheets beneath her—-

And Kim Taehyung was kneeling between her thighs, suckling on her weeping cunt with obscene satisfaction. 

It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your life. 

Your hands reached down to tangle in his hair, using it for leverage as you ground against his face. 

Then suddenly his grip on your legs tightened and his tongue plunged roughly into your trembling core. 

“Tae—ahh oh my—I can’t—”

The sensation was so intense that your hips bucked violently. You could not keep still. You were charging towards an explosion and your body was shaking itself apart. 

The noises tearing from you were incoherent. Everything around you focused in on the juncture of your thighs where Taehyung was licking inside of you again and again until—

You shattered. 

And the force of it nearly bent your back in half. 

Delirious sobs poured from your lips as he worked you through it, letting the obscene flood of your cum soak his face. 

The sight of him slowly lapping at the release between your folds, was unspeakably erotic. He ran his hands in soothing circles over your skin while you twitched and fluttered back down from your high. 

Then he was kissing you again. 

It was softer this time, but you felt truly depraved—and instantly obsessed—with the taste of yourself in his mouth—on his skin.

You could barely understand this ravenous hunger. You’d just found relief, yet you were already reaching for more. 

Your hands snaked down and wrapped around his still covered cock and he hissed in ragged pleasure. 

“So eager,” he gasped, as you pushed him back against the headboard—but you didn’t have time to bother with his teasing.

You were gonna blow Kim Taehyung into space. 

He bit his lip when you yanked down his pants and boxers together, freeing his arousal with stunning efficiency. 

It was almost unfair to discover that his cock was every bit as beautiful as he was.

“Of course,” you muttered. 

The sultry smirk he shot you in return had your cunt flooding all over again.

“You think Min Yoongi has a cock like mine?”

“I don’t think about Min Yoongi’s cock,” you retorted, wrapping your hand around his length, “you’ve always been the biggest dick I’ve ever met.” 

“I knew you thought about my dick,” he groaned as you began to work up and down the swollen shaft. 

After a moment, his hand slid over your chin to grip your hair, drawing you forward till your lips were almost touching. 

“I wonder what this pretty mouth can do,” he whispered. 

You gasped against him and he smiled. 

“Do you know how often I pictured your lips around my cock, Angel?”

You mewled shamelessly and he growled, cupping your cheek as your hands continued to service him. 

“Do you know how often I imagined this perfect throat stuffed full of my cum?” 

His palm slid down to lightly grip the soft flesh of your neck and you shuddered against him with a needy whimper. 

“I know you could suck me so good, Angel. I’ve wanted it for so so long...”

Your mouth actually watered with anticipation. 

The desire to be good for him—to give him whatever he asked for—consumed you. 

Taehyung let his head fall back against the headboard with a groan at the first brush of your lips along his shaft. His hips rutted involuntarily as your tongue wrapped around the tip and you hummed with pleasure at his enthusiastic response. 

After a moment you slid him into the welcoming heat of your mouth, taking him in as far as you could in one stroke. His jaw dropped open and his entire body jerked forward. 

“Yes, that’s it, Angel—feels so good.”

His praise was addictive. 

You loved that you could bring him to this. You loved to see the haughty Kim Taehyung coming apart as you sucked him. 

It made you feel beautiful—powerful even—and you reveled in every second of it. 

Your eyes were starting to tear. His length began to throb and pulse against your tongue and you knew he was close—so close you could almost taste him—

Yet suddenly he was pulling you back and you whined pitifully at the loss. 

Taehyung chuckled, dragging you toward him till your dripping core slid across his cock.

“I’m not coming before I get inside that pretty little pussy,” he swore, working your hips over his sex till it was drenched in arousal. 

The crass words filled you with the fiercest, most incredible want and you clenched reflexively against him in response. 

“Is that what you want?” Taehyung whispered as he bore you back into the mattress, pinning both your wrists above your head. “You want me to fill your empty little cunt?”

You did. 

You wanted it so so bad. 

“Please.”

Taehyung gently lowered himself closer to you, resting his forehead intimately against yours as he lined up his cock at your entrance. 

“Are you sure, Angel? Because there’s no going back after this... If you give yourself to me, then you’re mine—and I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you.”

“Taehyung, you idiot,”—a tender smile spread over your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck—“... I’ve always been yours.”

He swore violently—letting the slight tremble in his voice betray just how deeply your words affected him. 

Then his fingers tightened on the soft flesh of your hip and he filled you to the hilt with one delicious thrust. 

There was a moment—the smallest space in time—where your eyes locked together and everything seemed to suspend; a strange perfect calm before a monumental storm. 

Then your world caught fire. 

Taehyung drove himself into you with passionate fury, letting years of denial fuel the insatiable rhythm of his strokes. 

Every time he told himself no. Every time he held himself back—

Every bit of it burned away as you screamed his name. 

The feel of him was indescribable. 

You imagined it too many times to count, yet your dreams fell pitifully short of the visceral reality. 

He was bloomin’ magnificent. 

Your fingers clawed up and down his back, desperate to hold on to something while he pounded into your g-spot like an animal. 

“This tiny cunt is the tightest thing I’ve ever had around my cock,” he gasped and you whined needily at his praise. “Like it was made for me—” his hand came up to grip your breast, “like you were made for me.”

“Yes—”

Taehyung’s need seemed to amplify with every whimper and moan that fell from your lips. The feelings you sparked in him were fierce and unapologetically primitive.

He would go to war for you—build a fortress for you—fight a dragon if one dared come close. 

You were his. 

And he felt like a savage every time you cried out for more. 

Suddenly an unexpected movement in his periphery caught his attention.

He’d been so consumed with the extraordinary rush of claiming you that he’d forgotten—

This guest room was thirty-five percent mirrors. 

And now… he couldn’t look away. 

The sight of your bodies tangling together in headless bliss played out before him like a scene from his most debauched and forbidden fantasies. His reflection grinned back at him in fascinated ecstasy while his beloved nemesis lost herself in the pleasure of his cock.

Something dark and wild began to burn in his chest as he studied the lovers in the glass. 

“Look at you, Angel,” he whispered softly, “you really are perfect.”

Then he pulled out of your core and you whined bitterly in protest, chasing his body to rid yourself of the sudden unacceptable emptiness. 

“Still so needy,” he taunted, gripping your hips and flipping you on your stomach before you could even think to protest.

“I want you to watch that pretty angel in the mirror come on my cock,” he groaned, plunging back into you from behind. 

The new angle was somehow impossibly deeper and your body shook as another wave of pleasure overtook it. 

Your fingers clawed into the mattress for purchase as he pistoned into your trembling mound. 

Only Kim Taehyung could rail you like a whore while he worshiped you like a queen. 

He gave you a moment to adjust before drawing your body back against his chest. His arm wrapped over your stomach as he slowly eased your legs apart, unfolding the lewd tableau of your bodies joined together for the voyeuristic gaze of the glass.   

“Look at yourself, Angel,” he growled, mesmerized by the way your breasts bounced with every thrust. “Look at how well you're taking me.” 

Then his fingers slid down to rub your clit and you screamed. 

“Tae! Ah-ahh!”

The pleasure building within you now was violent. You were coiling too tightly, too fast—

“That’s right Angel. Take it all.”

Your eyes locked with his in the mirror for the briefest instant.

And then you flew apart. 

Taehyung threw his head back with a carnal moan as you clamped down around him. His body was hurtling toward its own release with reckless speed. 

“I’m close,” he panted, “where can I come?”

“Come inside me please,” you begged, and Taehyung’s eyes widened in frenzied lust. 

“That’s what you want? Huh?” his thrusts became rougher as he chased his relief, “You want me to fill this puffy little pussy with my cum?”

“Yes, I want it so bad—“ you sobbed. 

“Sweet Angel,” he groaned, gripping at your breasts as he pulled you tighter against him. 

Then he met your gaze in the mirror again. 

“I want everything with you; a home—a family—your body in my arms every morning when I wake up—” his voice trembled, “I want it all.” 

The raw vulnerability in his eyes nearly broke you.

“Tae,” you gasped softly, too overcome with joy to manage anything else. 

His mouth pressed hungrily against the curve of your shoulder. You could feel his cock throbbing in your core as he bent you forward, pounding into your sex with exquisite precision. 

"Stay with me, Angel,” he whispered. His thrusts became erratic as he neared his high. “I don’t want to live without you anymore.”

The glorious thrill of his words tore over your senses with euphoric brutality. Your walls tightened greedily around his cock and the taunt cord of pleasure finally snapped. 

He came with a broken groan, flooding the welcoming heat of your womb with his release. 

“KIM TAEHYUNG!”

The sound of his name being shouted by the absolute last person in the world whose voice he wanted to hear woke Taehyung from a dead sleep.  

His eyes widened in panic as he began yanking pillows and covers from all over the bed in a frenzied attempt to hide—

The doors to his bedroom flew open with a resounding crash. 

“Jimin,” he squeaked, trying to look as casual as possible next to a giant pile of bedding. “What uh—what brings you here at—” his eyes darted to the clock on the wall, “—7:30 in the morning?”

Then he frowned. 

“And how the hell did you get past Jungkook?”

Jimin’s murderous expression broke momentarily to allow for a smug grin. 

“Kendra.”

Kendra Jackson was Jimin’s executive aide. She was fierce, capable, intelligent—

And insanely gorgeous. 

Taehyung groaned. 

Poor Jungkookie never stood a chance. 

To the surprise of absolutely no one, yet another newspaper landed on Taehyung’s lap.

KIM HEIR BRINGS NAUGHTY ANGEL HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

Underneath the headline was a picture of you and Taehyung (dressed in clothes you stole from Jin’s childhood bedroom) kissing passionately against the side entrance of the Governor’s mansion. 

One of your legs was wrapped around his waist and he was clearly grabbing your ass. 

“Ah… well you see the camera distorts everything from this angle—and-and the lighting is bad so it’s not really what it looks like—”

“Is that so? Cause it looks like you’ve got your tongue down my baby sister’s throat!”

“Okay—okay,” Taehyung massaged his forehead nervously, “so maybe it’s sort of what it looks like but—”

“I’ll kill you.”

“No wait—” he held up his hands to delay an already advancing Jimin. 

“Why should I wait?!”

“Because—”

“—I trusted you with the most important person in the world to me—”

“The situation is just not that simple.” 

“—and you grabbed her ass in public!”

“Admittedly not my finest hour.”

“So you tell me right now—”

“But you don’t understand it’s—”

“—Why the hell would I wait?!”

“BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH HER!”

For a moment there was absolute silence. 

Then your head popped out from the massive pile of bedding. 

“Really?”

Jimin’s mouth fell open. 

Taehyung groaned again. 

“As usual, your timing is impeccable.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment.

“Are you really in love with me?”

“Of course I’m in love with you! What part of I want you to have my children did you not understand?!” 

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jimin choked. 

“That’s not the same thing!”

“It is for me!”

A radiant smile lit up your face. 

“I’m in love with you too.”

Taehyung’s expression softened. 

“Angel I—”

Then you were kissing and Jimin swung around with a horrified shout.

“Oh! No no no—Come on!”

He stumbled out of the room, hands firmly clamped over his eyes. 

“This is not over, Kim Taehyung!” the scandalized young Park heir howled in exasperation… but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

Back in the bedroom, Taehyung shook his head at Jimin’s ridiculous caterwauling. 

“No, it’s not over,” he laughed, pulling you deeper into the comfort of his arms. “It’s only just begun.”

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. 

This baby took FOR-EVER to write. I started it in November and literally worked on it a little every day. 

If you enjoyed it— even just a tiny bit—please consider taking a moment to leave me some feedback. It is so incredibly uplifting and rewarding to hear reader thoughts and reactions to my work.

I promise to treasure every word like gold. It took a lot to bring this story to life. Your kind words would mean the world to me.

[that-yandere-life]

I was wondering, what would Yandere Bucky and Natasha’s reaction would be someone killed their s/o right in front of them, after they being kidnapped?

[Warnings: Yandere Themes (Obviously), Death, Graphic Torture Scenes, Murder, Sad as fuck...]

Natasha-

Natasha watched with absolute anguish as your lifeless body fell to the floor, blood running from the corner of your mouth.

The man who had kidnapped you had stabbed you through the heart, not caring at all about you just wanting to get to her.

When you died, a huge piece of her died with you, a piece of her that she would never be able to fill.

All fleeing bits of sanity she had left snapped as her vision faded to red, trying desperately to acquire their target.

Leaping full force, wrapping her legs around his neck, ignoring the man's feeble attempts to stab her during the action.

Unable to tell that her thigh was grazed in the encounter as she ripped him and herself down to the floor.

Desperately grasping her legs to create a tighter grip around the kidnappers neck, holding him in place until he passed out.

Sure she could have ended it all right then and there, but she wasn’t going to let him get off that easy.

All the guy had done with killing you was signing his own death warrant, one that was going to be a long harsh drawn out process.

They were going to suffer, the way she was now going to suffer having to spend each moment of the rest of her life without you.

Sorrow didn’t even begin to describe what her heart was feeling, she was utterly destroyed, the only thing keeping her going was revenge.

Part of her just wanted to lay down next to you and hold you until she too perished, but you wouldn’t want that.

Tying him to a chair tightly as she couldn't care less if she cut off the circulation to his limbs, she was making damn sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

Dumping a bucket of freezing water over the asshole, startling him awake, letting him adjust to his surroundings wanting him to see how fucked he was.

Circling around him like a shark after her prey as it soaked in that he had clearly messed with the wrong person.

Gripping his hair in her fist, ripping his head back forcing him to look at her while she spoke, pieces starting to come off from the harsh tension.

Spitting in his face before releasing it yet again letting it bounce up and down moving to stand in front of the chair.

Thoughts of you racing through her mind, barely willing herself not to cry and show any weakness.

Rearing back, punching the side of his head several times, alternating her fists to the sides, a satisfying crunch under her knuckles with every impact.

Later her hands would hurt like a bitch but right now, it was a burn that made her feel alive for the first time since the light left your eyes.

Pulling out the same knife he had used to end your life she was ready for the main event, it was showtime.

Slowly plunging the knife into muscles around his entire body, knowing exactly where each major artery and organ was so she made sure to avoid any fatal areas.

Wanting them to feel every inch of the blade penetrating their flesh, the warm oozing of the blood rushing from the wounds.

Their cries of agony were music to her ears, like the chorus of her humanity slowly leaving her body.

Spreading the punishment out over several days she finally was beginning to grow bored of waiting for him to perish from the collaboration of her attacks.

Grabbing some piano wire from her collection of torture devices she wrapped it around his neck from behind.

Using all of her strength to strangle him to death, tearing his head back so she could watch every last moment of it.

Holding them long after the struggle had left their body, she had to be sure they could never hurt anyone ever again.

Finishing the job, she dropped to the ground sobbing wracking throughout her entire body begging to the air for forgiveness for not protecting you.

Feeling like she couldn’t have failed worse if she had tried, despite her intentions to keep you safe since the day she met you.

Now she had nothing else to live for, you were gone, the one who did it was gone, and she was left alone.

That was the day she gave up ever trying to be happy, those dreams laid to rest with you, the love of her life.

Bucky-

Bucky felt like a grenade had gone off inside of his chest when he watched you be dropped from the top of a tall building by the person that had taken you.

Diving off the side after you praying that he could reach you in time to protect you with his own mass but it just wasn’t possible.

Landing on the ground next to you, only he was fine where you never would be again, your eyes stuck open staring at him blankly.

In that moment he was no longer Bucky, the soldier which had long remained dormant inside of him was now all that was left.

Stalking back into the building and up the stairs to where he had left your murderer, since there was no where for them to go.

Having disabled the elevator there was only one way out, and no way to get around him; that was one thing he was damn sure of.

Ripping the door to the roof off its hinges sending it careening down the stairs, the noise filling the entire area.

Fear was the only expression on the perpetrators face, as they debated whether they themselves should chance jumping off instead of the soldiers' wrath.

Bucky wasn’t going to give them a chance to take the easy way out, he was going to destroy the man until his last breath.

Shooting the man in the leg with the pistol he had strapped to his ankle at all times, causing them to collapse to the ground in pain.

Gripping them by the throat with his metal hand lifting them up in a near instant, so fast that if you blinked you had missed the action of him moving forward.

Slamming them into the ground, not giving them a chance to catch their breath before he did it again.

The force of each impact cracking various bones, bruising various organs, and causing internal bleeding.

Still not enough to actually kill them however, he was merely incapacitating them to the point where they couldn’t get away with any amount of speed.

Throwing the guy over his shoulder, carrying him down, the ability to fight was no longer an option for him giving into his sordid fate.

Having no clue what he was really planning on doing to him, it was far worse than imagined that much was soon to be clear.

Going unconscious due to the various trauma’s waking up to being splashed by a large amount of water.

So much that it surrounded the man entirely, Bucky standing outside of the range of it biding his time.

Meeting his eyes, the mercy long having left his own cold steel blue ones, all that was left was revenge.

Motioning to the killer to look down there lay three car batteries hooked together by jumper cables at their feet, half covered up with water.

A smirk on his face as he walked over to the wall a lever attached to it leading to the main power supply.

Waving goodbye Bucky flipped it watching as electricity arched through the entire building in multiple places.

Leading up to the convulsing body sat in a metal chair, surrounded by water, the current killing off every last living cell within.

Finally having enough he turned off the power, the person who had torn him apart no longer breathing.

Something he now wished he himself had in common with the two of you, because he just felt empty now.

Sure he was used to losing everything he cared about, it was what his entire life had been filled with… but he never thought in a million years that he would lose you too.

Thinking back to all the times he promised you he would keep you safe, a promise he never intended on breaking but he didn’t get a damn choice.

Letting go he began to weep, dropping to his knees and holding his hands in his head begging the universe to tell him why you…

Suffering wasn’t new to him, but now he would never know another moment's peace, forever mourning the life the two of you once had at your fingertips.

Until the day he is reunited with you in the afterlife he will never be the same, a hollow shell of the man you once knew and loved.

[This was a hard one to write, because it is just angst, pure utter angst... I might have cried a little but I do like how it turned out! I hope that you all enjoy, and that it was what you were looking for! <3]

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Demons Within

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Request: Angst fic where Elijah accidentally kills reader bc he’s lost control? (Red door Elijah?) -Anon

Word count: 2K

Warnings: Chatacter death, angst, canon typical blood and gore.

Author’s Note: Welcome to day two of may madness! I hope after yesterday’s fic that you guys are still looking forward to the next month’s worth! Here’s an angsty fic that I know you guys have been waiting for! Day two and going strong! 

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

Y/N was running for her life. Not the on the run from Mikael, running for life. This time, it was different. Y/N was running from the one person she never thought she ever would run from. 

Fear wasn’t supposed to be coursing through her, but in that moment it had. She shouldn’t have been afraid of the person that was after her. She should have been able to stand her ground and fight, just as she always had. She should have been able to break through to the man that was after her. But after several failed attempts, there was nothing else she could do. 

It didn’t matter how fast she ran or how far she went, she knew there was no getting away. She could hear the way his own feet met the ground. The crunching of the leaves under the weight of his shoes loud in her ears as she ran. She didn’t dare a glance back. She knew he was right there, almost within reach. She should know, this was her husband she was running from. 

There were many things that Y/N had known in her existence. She watched as the world changed around her and her loved ones as they went on with their lives. People they had once known long gone, either by their own hands or the passage of time. Being a vampire, an original at that, meant the lives of the people you knew were gone in the blink of an eye. 

As the years passed like simple hours, there were things they survived. Things that they faced, enemies they fought and bested. And even those that are immortal are faced with darkness that even they don’t know the depths of the darkness that lay within them. It was that darkness that was deeply rooted in her husband’s subconscious that caused her to run for her life. 

Esther’s magic had done as intended. The facade that Elijah hid behind throughout the majority of his existence, had been destroyed. The red door left wide open with slightest of triggers that enabled the darker side of himself to breach the surface. 

Y/N should have been able to break through to him. She should have been able to reach the man that she knew was currently buried underneath the darkness. For the few times she had almost lost him to that darkness, she had been able to pull him back. She had watched as her words of love and care had caused the coldness in his eyes to disappear and return to the warm, inviting brown that she had grown to love. But it hadn’t worked this time around. 

The soft touch of her fingers running along his face as the veins under his eyes played should have made him recognize who was in front of him. The way they trembled slightly as they moved down to his neck, should have recognized that she would still be there for him while he fought it. But it was the way his hand had grabbed a hold of her arm and twisted it in a way that a sickening snap could be heard before she cried out in pain that told her, he was deeper in the abyss than he had ever been. 

Her few simple steps back caused him to take a step towards her with each one. The darkness within his eyes every indication that he had no recognition of her. That the woman he loved was currently a stranger, a threat that needed to be dealt with. 

It was the reason she ran. The only reason that she decided to turn and run from him. She needed to give him time. Time to hopefully get through the darkness that was surrounding him. To hopefully come to his senses before he could get a hold of her. Y/N knew that he could and that he would.

Y/N may have been Elijah’s wife, but she had turned a handful of years after he had turned. She was strong, but not as strong as he could be. She had to at least out smart him for the time being. To keep herself alive for as long as she could, because even she knew that in a fight against her husband, she would lose. 

It was when Elijah’s footsteps went quiet that she stopped running. The woods that surrounded them thick enough for her to hide in plain sight. She turned quickly in search of him. But her eyes couldn’t spot him. Her mind screamed that he must have come to his senses, that he wasn’t going to hurt her. 

Her ears trying to pick up anything. The slightest movements of anything that would indicate where he was. But she couldn’t hear anything. Even her breathing had been silenced knowing that Elijah would be able to hear it in some form or another. She knew he was out there, she just didn’t know where. 

As her eyes moved along the trees in her eyesight, her head tilted as she took in a tree not too far off. There was something familiar about. It was the way some of the branches had been broken to one side. The leaves barely hung on as the slight breeze made its way through. 

It was then that realization had hit her. Elijah had been steering her in the direction that he wanted. She was supposed to be the one in control of this situation. But the tree proved that she had currently been going in circles. A game of chase that she knew Elijah was all too familiar with. 

That was when she felt his hand grab a hold of her arm and spun her around before pinning her to the tree beside her. A startled yelp passed her lips as he had done so. Not by the action itself but the way Elijah had now looked as he stood before her. 

The clean suit he had on some time ago had now been covered in blood. Blood had covered his lips and trickled down his neck. The blood pooled at his collar of his white button up. His eyes still filled with murder.  She lifted her hand up to cover her mouth as she looked him over. She knew that for the few moments she had lost him, he had found someone else to prey on before he returned for her. 

“‘Lijah.” She said with a slight shake of her head as she dropped her hand. Y/N knew she needed to get through to him. “It’s me. You know me. You’ve known me for centuries.”

Their eyes never left the others. Even as Elijah kept her pinned against the tree, he never looked away from her eyes. Deep down within Elijah he knew her eyes were familiar. That they were something that had always brought comfort to him. But all he could see was a threat that needed to be taken care of. 

She was to be another body that he had kept locked away behind the red door. For as his mother had once said to him, the women he loved were butterflies. Ones that he loved to tear the wings off of them. And in his darkened thoughts, Y/N was a butterfly ready to be dewinged. 

Her voice, while familiar, hadn’t brought any recognition to his mind once more. Even when he heard her words earlier that day, they hadn’t meant anything to him now. Not even as she explained who she was before he brought his hand up to her throat. 

Y/N placed her hand on top of his trying to pull his hand away from her. But the harder she fought to get his hand away from her neck, the tighter his grip became. Y/N gasped as she tried to at least break any of the bones in his hand to get some reaction out of him. Just before she expected to hear the sickening crack of a bone breaking, he had pulled her away from the tree by her neck, before slamming her back against it. 

Her hands fell to her sides as she looked Elijah in the eyes. Her mind racing for something, anything that could be done. “You know me, Elijah.” Her voice strangled against his hold. “I can show you.”

She lifted her hand once more, bringing it up slowly to his face. If she couldn’t get through to him with words or touch, she was going to try through memories. He watched as she raised her hand up to his face slowly. His eyes going back and forth between the two before her fingers brushed along his face. 

It was enough to begin a small connection. One that Y/N had barely been able to show how they met before a loud cry of pain left her lips, causing her hand to fall from his face and the connection lost. Her eyes looked down to see Elijah remove his hand from her neck, only to see the other shoved into her chest. 

The way his hand gripped on her heart told her he could feel every beat of it. Every chance it tried to pump the blood through her veins, he could feel it. He was literally holding her life source in his hand. 

Tears of pain and sadness began to flow out of her eyes as she watched him. He was studying her for a moment. It was strange to both of them. It was if there was a part of him that was fighting to save her, or even kill her. It was the way his head tilted as his hold on her tightened. 

Another scream passed her lips. She was afraid to move. Afraid to try anything. The pain that radiates through her overpowering anything else she was trying to get through her mind. She knew if she tried anything else, all Elijah had to do was pull and that’d be the end of it. 

It was then that her mind had made a decision. The thought itself had caused the tears to rush down her face a little more before she nodded her head. Her eyes took in his face one last time. She wanted to see it. She wanted him to see that it was going to be okay. 

“I-it’s okay.” She found it becoming harder to speak. Even as she spoke she felt the way his hand moved even the slightest bit, causing her to groan. “I’m not scared. I promise. It’s n-not your fault if you do this. It’s going to be okay. Just know that I love you.”

It was as she went to place her hand on top of his arm, as a comforting touch, she felt the tug of her heart. With one last cry of pain, Y/N went slack against the tree. Her heart in Elijah’s hand as he took a step back, watching as Y/N’s body fell to the ground a moment later. 

The cold unrecognizable eyes were still dark as he dropped her heart by her body. For the threat he acknowledged earlier had been subdued. The threat to his family and even to himself had been taken care of. His actions are no longer hidden behind the red door that haunted him for centuries. It became easy to walk away from the body that was now ashen gray. 

But deep down, the part of him that was drowning in the darkness knew that he had just lost the woman he loved to the very monster his parents created. Where she was the light in his life, the darkness that surrounded him smothered her and he was once again left with nothing.

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[thetargaryenbride]

You Are Worth It [Levi x Reader]

Summary: You were ready to do anything for this man and if that meant defending him from your own comrades, then so be it.

Set before and during the No Regrets OVA

This is for @vennilavee  ‘s Writing Challange. I had fun writing~ 

This scenario is actually a part of my OC’s story BUT I decided to change it up a bit here and there and make it into a Levi x Reader instead. Enjoy!

Word Count: 7646

Warnings: Violence, Vulgarity, Profanity, some gore, some harassment

Pairing: Levi x Fem!Reader

Feedback is deeply appreciated~!

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❅

The Underground.

It was a foul place – lawless – full of thugs, drunkards and creeps. Unfortunately, it was also the home of women who most of the time had no other choice but to sell themselves, it was the home of sick people who only wished to glimpse the sun, and it was the home of malnourished orphans who died like flies in the dirty streets. And nobody was doing anything to help those in need.

Nobody but you.

You remembered the first time you set foot in the Underground. You were just but a little girl, holding tightly your step-mother’s hand as she made her way through the muddy streets, not caring whether her dress would get dirtied. You smiled fondly at the memory. Your step-mother’s friend had lost the rights to her citizenship and was hurdled into the clutches of the Kingdom of Shadows, being forced to work as a prostitute. But the two women kept being friends and your step-mother frequently visited to bring her food. You went only once but it was more than enough to break the pretty picture you’ve imagined – of a place safely tucked below the Inner Walls, with glowing crystals and beautifully shaped stalagmites. It was a hellhole.

You still thought of yourself as a little, naïve girl. You blamed your parents’ coddling. You were supposed to be more aware of the real world as a teen and almost young adult. You wanted to know the truth and the horrors that accompanied each day. That was one of the reasons you also wanted to join the Survey Corps. But you had promised to yourself that you’d join after you face the hell that is the Underground and after you offer some help to those who need it. After all, how could you fight and protect people from the Titans, if you couldn’t even protect them from fellow humans?

“Listen now, little lady, I know that you wanna do some charity shit down here but we also have work to do instead of escorting you. Just because your father is the Deputy Commander-,” grumbled the Military Police soldier from behind you but you didn’t pay him any attention. Instead, your ears strained to hear another sound – a child crying. You hushed the soldier and before he had the chance to give you some scathing remark, you walked away from him and towards the sound. The alleys were too narrow and the repugnant smell of piss and alcohol was heavy in the air but you tried your best to ignore it and kept walking. Turning right, then left, you came to a dead end. And there it was – the child – crouching on the ground with his knees pressed to his chest and little hands rubbing at his eyes.

You approached slowly and knelt down, your gown puddling all around you, the light blue fabric immediately getting mudded and dirtied.

“It’s all right. I’m here. No one is going to hurt you. I got some food too,” you spoke gently as to not startle him as your hand took out an apple from your bag and handed it to the child. He looked at you with big eyes and you offered an encouraging smile. That smile fell off your face the second you heard the clicking of a gun right behind your head. It pressed against you roughly, almost ruining your perfect bun. The child simply stood up and ran away.

“Now, don’t move, pretty thing. We don’t want to accidentally blast your head, do we?” came in a man’s gravelly voice, sending shivers down your spine. You dared not move as you felt him getting closer, his breath tickling your neck. “Ya better get those money ready, lass," he hissed out and you willed your body to stop shaking. It was impossible. Were you going to go out like this? Murdered by some thugs? Were you going to rot in this very same alley? Before you got the chance to see the outside world?

There was a swooshing sound. You closed your eyes, anticipating the worst, but then strangled grunts and coughing was heard, making you snap your head in the direction of the sound. Your eyes widened as you saw the two men fall dead on the ground, clothes soaking with the crimson blood that leaked from their throats, some managing to drop onto your cheek. Your eyes focused on a third man who was cleaning his knife. He didn’t pay you attention as he pocketed it and turned his back on you, ready to walk away.

“W-wait!” you called out and he halted. Let me at least see your face. Let me at least learn your name. “You saved me… I-“ you stuttered out but he interrupted you roughly, turning around to look you in the eyes. He was the most handsome man you’ve laid eyes on. The pampered, powdered noble boys couldn’t hold a candle to his rugged looks and the aura he was giving off. He had raven hair, locks falling around his eyes, pale skin and sharp eyes the color of a stormy sky. His clothes were a little bit baggy but even like this you could tell his body was built nicely so you assumed that he was a thug as well. Speaking of clothes, his were way too clean and pristine for someone living in such a filthy place.

“Don’t waste your breath. Go back upstairs to your gold and fine porcelain. You don’t belong here,” he spat out and your eyebrows furrowed as you slowly stood up, coming face to face with him.

“I’m sorry but you can’t say where I do or do not belong to. Maybe I don’t really fancy the world you speak of,” you told him firmly and his gaze lingered on your for awhile.

“You’re a lunatic then,” were his last words before he walked away.

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You didn’t listen to the man. One bad experience and some rude words weren’t enough to convince you otherwise. In fact, that made you more stubborn and you soon found your way in the Underground once again. This time you carried a knife. Your grandfather had taught you how to throw them and you regretted not bringing one last time.

The day passed by in a blur. The heavy bag full of bread and left-over pastries from your family’s bakery was now empty and you were ready to head back home and take a long bath. But you stopped when you heard a commotion. You bit your lip. You didn’t want to risk getting caught up in something again. But your heart was beating faster and your body felt warmer the closer the sound got and you supposed that there was some supernatural force that was pulling you towards it. Soon enough, you found yourself in the midst of a brutal brawl. The same guy who saved you a few days ago was being ganged up on. He was surprisingly holding his ground, sending lethal punches and kicks his enemies’ way. But you should’ve known they would fight dirty as one of the members sneaked behind the guy and prepared to shoot him in the back.

Your body moved before you even ordered it to, hand grabbing the knife hidden in the pocket of your dress and throwing it. It embedded into the head of the thug and he fell. Everything stopped for awhile. You could see the two members of the group looking at you with both shock and rage. You could see the surprised expression on the guy’s face, his arm up in mid-punch. Then there was a bang and you felt a searing pain in your middle region. Your vision blurred and the last thing you saw was the guy who saved you pummel the remaining members of the gang to death and scream something at you.

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When your eyes fluttered open, they saw an unfamiliar ceiling. Your first instinct was to stand up and run but your body was too tired and the only thing you managed to do was shift and move your head.

“Finally awake?” came in a voice and you gasped as you saw the same guy. Had he saved you? What exactly happened in the first place? You wanted to ask him multiple questions but the one you settled on was:

“Are you all right?”

He shot you an incredulous look.

“You were the one who got shot, dumbass. Worry about yourself,” he grumbled, furrowing his brows and you let out a weak chuckle.

“You are right… You know, we’ve saved each other’s lives so many times already and yet I do not know your name.”

“It’s Levi,” he answered your silent question and you smiled as bright as you could.

“Nice to meet you, Levi! My name is Y/N! Y/F/N!”

His eyes widened a fraction as he stared at you, a spark of what seemed to be recognition, relief and even fondness could be seen deep within. He uncrossed his arms and walked out of the room. You counted the minutes awkwardly, fiddling with your fingers or clenching and unclenching the sheets, before you finally decided to sit up. It was a struggle. The bullet had got you in the upper stomach but apparently he had nursed you back to health. You noticed that your torso was neatly covered in clean bandages as the blankets slid down a bit, making you shiver at the bareness of your arms. You blushed at the thought of him seeing you like this but nothing could be done. And you didn’t care that much about dignity and nudity when it came down to saving lives – others’ or your own.

Your thoughts were interrupted when he walked in the room, carrying a plate with peeled and sliced apples. For a moment, he stood by the doorframe simply watching you, before he made his way towards you and sat on the corner of the bed, placing the plate on your lap and outstretching his other hand. Your eyes fell on what he was holding and you gasped as memories from years ago flooded you.  

The day when you had been so curious you had begged your step-mother to take you with her. She had agreed and you had made your way to the Underground. You had stuck close to her as she walked into what you now knew was a brothel.

❅ 

“Carol! It’s so good to see you!” exclaimed your step-mom and the other woman chuckled as she gave her a hug.

“You didn’t have to bring so much food again. I’m so grateful to have you.”

You smiled as you watched the two women converse but your attention was stolen by a figure in your periphery vision, making you completely turn around. It was a boy. He didn’t seem to be much older than you. He was wearing a ragged shirt that reached his knees and some worn out pants but his hair looked clean and neatly cut. He watched you shyly, interest sparkling in his eyes as he took in your appearance. He had probably never seen a noble in such a place. You smiled and waved at him and he mirrored you after his hesitation worn off. You took a few steps forward and smiled brightly at him.

“Hi, there! What is your name?”

“Levi,” he uttered and you put your hands on your hips. You probably looked ridiculous – a child with lots of baby fat, trying to look and give off a motherly aura.

“You are very thin, Levi. That just can’t do!” you exclaimed in disapproval as you reached into the bag of food your step-mom had brought, taking out a few apples and placing them in your white apron. You neared the boy and beckoned him to take them. “Here, take these! Dad always says that an apple a day keeps the doctor away!” you grinned.

He gulped and his hands trembled a bit when he took the fruits from you, eyes gazing into your own with such gratitude and respect. And because you were so focused on his features, you noticed some smudged dirt on his left cheek. You clicked your tongue as you grabbed a handkerchief from your pocket and proceeded to wipe his face since his arms were busy balancing the apples from falling out of his grip.

“You got some dirt here. It’s very important to stay clean, you know,” you told him gently and he nodded.

“My mother says the same,” he whispered and you smiled as you tucked your handkerchief in his pocket.

“Then you keep this and make sure to stay clean,” you smiled at him before your step-mom called you and you had to bid him goodbye.

“Wait!” he called out and you looked at him over your shoulder. “What’s your name?” he asked timidly and you grinned at him again.

“Y/N! Y/F/N! It was nice meeting you, Levi! I hope we can meet again!”

❅

But you never met him again. When next time your step-mom had returned from her visit and you had asked about the boy, she said he was nowhere to be found but there was a rumor that one of the women working there had passed away and her child had disappeared.

“We meet again,” you sent him a watery smile as tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. You didn’t know why, they just did. You never pegged yourself as an overly emotional person but life was a mysterious companion.

“Yeah,” drawled the man quietly and for the first time since you’ve met, that permanent frown was replaced by a small, soft smile.

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Since that fateful meeting, your visits to the Underground became more frequent. You didn’t only want to do charity but you wanted to visit Levi. He told you to not come back. That it was dangerous. But you didn’t listen. You wore simpler dresses – not the big, intricate gowns. You tied your hair in a simple ponytail or bun – not the stylish hairstyles screaming that their bearer was a noblewoman. You usually never wore jewelry with the exception of the earrings your step-mother had gifted you, but you took them off during your visits, trying to blend in the best way possible. Of course, you were a woman, therefore it was only natural to attract creeps. But you managed to deal with them. You just wanted to help children and see Levi. Was it that much to ask?

“Eeh! There is a body of water this huge? And full of salt!? I cannot believe it!” exclaimed Farlan.

“It’s true! It’s written in a book that’s been banned by the government! Why do you think they banned it if it wasn’t true!?” you shot back.

“So, you mean to tell us that there are also fields of sand and multicolored lights in the sky in North?”asked Levi while he was focusing on polishing his knife.

“I know it may sound too incredible to believe but I know it’s the truth! I just know it! And I’ll go beyond the walls and see it for myself!” you grinned enthusiastically and Levi’s eyes moved from the knife and onto your form, one eyebrow raised in both question and challenge.

“Hooh? And how are you going to do that? By going on lavishing balls in Mitras?”

“By joining the Survey Corps!” you declared and the silence became so heavy that you could cut it with a dull knife. And suddenly, all hell broke loose.

“What?! Are you insane!? You actually want to join them and go fight titans?!” shouted Farlan as he stood up from his chair and you mirrored him, crossing your arms.

“I’d pick the titans ten times over the political wars we’re waging in the capital and all the hypocrisy and backstabbing!”

“You’re gonna get eaten! Do you really want to face such a death?!”

Their shouting match was interrupted by Levi’s almost frighteningly low tone, making them sweat and gulp.

“Oi, brat... Tell me you’re not serious… Tell me you’re just…in a phase or something,” he said as he put the knife on the table, his attention now fully on you. You sighed as you slowly sat back down on the sofa, a sad smile gracing your features as you looked at the two men. You contemplated but in the end you decided that you had to tell them.

“I’ve been serious ever since I saw my mother get eaten years ago,” you confessed and their eyes widened.

“What?” stuttered out Farlan as he slumped back down on the chair.

“I haven’t told you, have I? I was…five when mom…snapped, for a lack of better word… She told me that she wanted to see the outside world and I… I was so excited!” you gripped the fabric of your dress so tight that your knuckles turned white. “We sneaked outside the walls and… I was saved just on time by a Survey Corps soldier… My mom on the other hand,” you uttered, biting the inside of your cheek until it bled. “Shiganshina will always be my hometown. I can’t stay in Mitras. I can’t! My place is not inside the walls.”

“I thought you were… noble,” murmured Farlan and you chuckled.

“That’s half the truth. My father IS the Deputy Commander of the Military Police. Even before that, he was rich and powerful, coming from a family full of soldiers and nobles. The most respected family… One day he met my mom in Shiganshina. He was already married at the time but… One thing led to another and…here I stand,” you explained. “He would send money but I never saw him until…that day,” you gulped but the pain and bad memories were replaced by determination and bravery.

“I’ll join the Survey Corps. I’ll see the outside world. And I swear to you, once I am capable, I’ll get you two citizenship. I won’t let you rot in here,” you stated firmly and the men could only stare at you with both concern and fondness.  

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In the end, you did exactly what you wanted. You joined the Survey Corps after graduating top of your class. At first you were placed in Ness’ squad but after your first expedition and after you showed incredible skills and potential, you were moved to Erwin’s squad. You proved how great of a strategist you were and you showed them your political skills when it came to dealing with the Royal Assembly. That gained you lots of respect from the higher ups within the Survey Corps. You also built a name for yourself as Humanity’s fastest because all fellow soldiers who’ve seen you fight, including veterans, have said that there was no one faster. You didn’t brag though.  

Now, a year later, you were a squad leader yourself and there were rumors that you would be promoted to Captain. You smiled at the thought. You pushed your body and mentality way over the limits to prove yourself worthy as fast and as efficient as possible in order to gain a title – to gain power – because thanks to that it would be easier to save them.

Just hang on for a bit more, Farlan, Levi. I’ll soon be able to get you out of that hole.

Flagon’s fist hit the table as he growled in irritation, interrupting your thought process.

“Quite frankly, this is humiliating!”

“I couldn’t agree more,” nodded another Section Commander by the name of Deckan Caddel. His demeanor seemed calm but his eyes were glinting with a murderous intent. You never liked him. Sure, he was great soldier. But he joined purely out of revenge and bloodlust – because his father was eaten. He didn’t care about protecting Humanity. In fact, he always had such disregard for people, especially those who weren’t from Wall Sina like himself.

“Are you honestly telling us, who have always held formality in high regard, to accept a bunch of criminals?”

You had half a mind to tell him to chill the fuck out but you bit your tongue. Flagon was a good guy beneath his prejudices.

After discussing the newly recruited members and the formation that Erwin suggested, the meeting was over and everyone left. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Deckan ogling you before he walked off. You narrowed your eyes but brushed it off as you made your way to the private quarters aligned with your office and prepared for bed. Tomorrow morning the said criminals would be introduced to the others and it will be decided in which squad they would be put on.

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You were…shocked. The criminals everyone were talking about were none other than Levi and Farlan accompanied by a younger girl. Your mind didn’t even comprehend Commander Shadis’ words or the trio’s introduction. You were too busy staring at them, still unable to process that they were here, donning the noble uniform of the Survey Corps. You gulped down the tears threatening to spill and patiently waited for the introduction to be over. While Flagon was busy with subtly expressing his disdain of the three being placed on his squad and sending sharp glances Erwin’s way, you finally managed to gather the strength to come closer and into their line of sight.

The moment Levi’s eyes clashed with yours, you felt like crying and running to embrace him. Your heart started beating faster and your body warmed up after feeling so cold for literal ages. You didn’t know how this man; why this man; had such an effect on you…but you loved it.

His eyes widened and he subtly elbowed Farlan whose attention shifted to where he was looking at. He wasn’t as subtle as Levi though and his reaction was quite open as he pretty much gawked at you. Both men’s eyes shone brightly with fondness and relief.

Even when everyone were dismissed and allowed to go back to their own business, you didn’t. You quietly followed after Flagon as he walked the new recruits to the barracks.

“You two men will sleep here,” you could hear Flagon instructing them from your place in the hallway. “You lot have been living in the dumps of the Underground but do try to keep this place clean,” your eyes widened comically and you almost choked on thin air. Just as you supposed, Levi’s outraged “huh?” followed right away and he neared Flagon threateningly, breaking his personal bubble.

“W-what’s with that look?” stuttered out the man and you decided to intervene before it had gotten out of control.

“Now, now, Flagon, you used to sleep in those barracks too. But you’ve probably forgotten that they always have been dirty,” came in your voice, making everyone’s heads snap to your direction. Farlan’s lips twitched in a smile but Levi’s face was composed. Flagon clicked his tongue.

“And what are you doing here, Y/L/N?” he asked with a sigh and you shrugged, fully entering the room.

“I just came here to make sure you don’t start a fire or something,” you shot back teasingly and he rolled his eyes before turning his back on everyone.

“I’ll leave you to it. And next time don’t try to approach a commanding officer with such attitude. Maybe Y/N will be able to teach you some manners,” snapped Flagon and Farlan tried to salute respectfully.

“Yes, sir!”

“Your hand’s upside-down! You begin training early tomorrow! I expect you to be punctual!”

The moment Flagon was out of sight and earshot you didn’t hesitate to throw yourself at the two men, hugging them tightly. Farlan was quick to return the embrace but Levi froze for awhile, hesitating, before he awkwardly patted your head as you sobbed.

“It’s you! I can’t believe it!” you pulled away and took a good look at them. “You seem healthy. I’m so happy to see you! I still can’t believe that it’s you who Erwin recruited. He must have seen incredible potential! We have so much to talk about-“ your rambling was interrupted by a coughing, making you face the redheaded girl.

“I think we haven’t officially met! My name’s Isabel Magnolia! Nice to meetcha!” grinned the girl and you smiled at her, shaking her hand.

“My name is Y/F/N. It’s pleasure meeting you! You are probably confused as to how we know one another but I’ll tell you everything!” you hooked your arm around hers and tugged her towards the door. “I’ll show you to the girls’ barracks and,” your gaze flickered to the boys, finding Levi’s and holding his for awhile. “I hope I’ll see you two shortly.”

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You had talked to Isabel until the late hours, telling her about your background, about how you met Levi and Farlan, about your life in the Training Corps and then as a soldier in the Survey Corps. There was so much to talk about and you really wanted to make friends with her since she seemed to be someone very important to Levi and Farlan.

The next day had rolled fast and before you knew it, everyone were up and about – training. The three newbies were to be evaluated today – their skills tested.  

Levi was walking amongst the horses, mind wandering off to the mission at hand. If he wanted it to be successful, he had to play by the Survey Corps rules and one of them was to learn how to ride. Isabel had no problem with it. She seemed to be natural. Then again she has always been an animal lover so he wasn’t surprised at how fast she grasped horse riding. Farlan had some troubles with the horse he had chosen, the mare too feisty for him to handle. And Levi? Well, he still hasn’t chosen one.

“I think she likes you,” came in your gentle tone and he sighed, grateful for the momentary distraction. You came to stand beside him and before he could ask, you pointed ahead, making him focus his vision onto the beautiful black mare that was intently staring at him.

“You know, it’s not only you choosing the horse. The horse has to choose you too,” you told him as you both approached the mare and Levi slowly outstretched his hand, allowing the animal to sniff him before licking it. He smiled when she nudged his hand, beckoning him to caress her.

“Her name is Danika. I raised her,” you smiled and he lifted his eyebrows. “And this is Astaroth. My partner,” you grinned as you pointed to the horse right next to Danika. He was the biggest horse Levi has seen amongst all Survey Corps horses and the only one with such unique coloration.

“He seems a bit…different than the rest,” he mused and you hummed in agreement.

“They had found him outside the walls a bit before I joined. When I tell you he was wild, I mean it. They hadn’t been able to tame him never mind how many times they tried. Then I came and tried. My way. And it worked. He became my partner since then. He’s the strongest and fastest horse in the SC history. Trust me, it’s not easy riding him into battle sometimes but I’ve grown used to it,” you explained and he huffed.

“It’s not only about growing used to it. You yourself are probably a great rider. A natural,” he commented and you shrugged.

“Maybe…Say, do you want to ride together?” you asked and he nodded.

“Sure.”

That’s how you found yourselves riding the horses deep into the forest and away from all the ruckus in the training grounds. You wanted Levi to truly feel and experience the riding and bond with his horse which took some time instead of immediately jumping onto the animal and rushing it into gallop like what most did. And while the silence was comforting, you decided to break it.

“One of the perks about being a part of the Survey Corps is that you get to live surrounded by nature. Just look at it. Look how beautiful and peaceful it is. Fields upon fields and forests upon forest. So much greenery and beauty,” you sighed dreamily and Levi hummed in agreement.

“It’s not bad.”

“At the same time if you get tired of the peace and quiet, you can just roam the halls of the castle or the training grounds and sink into the pleasant noise of soldiers chattering, laughing, eating and training together,” you smiled as you looked at the man. The green shadows the trees cast upon him and the flickering-through-the-trees light bathing him made him look so beautiful, so relaxed…so gentle. Then your thoughts wandered off to a place deeper and darker.

“I still can’t believe that you’re here. That you chose to join the Survey Corps… I’ll be honest with you. I don’t think you guys are ready to be soldiers. Not yet. You need so much training and the expedition is too soon and,” you realized you were rambling so you took a breath and exhaled slowly. “I just…I just feel like Erwin’s offer and your decision will bring some catastrophic consequences. I trust my intuition. It has never failed me.”

“A bit too late for that now,” huffed the man and you bit your lip.

“Why didn’t you wait a bit more for me? I’m sure you calculated almost three years in the Training Corps and then one or so more until I get a higher rank-“

“I thought you were dead,” he interrupted you with a soft, heavy tone that surprised you.

“Eh?”

“There were a few times when I would overhear the MP soldiers talking. They spoke of failed expeditions and death. They mentioned you too. Humanity’s Fastest, huh?” he shot you a wry smile and you blushed but held his gaze as he kept talking, the smile turning into frown. “Not long after, I heard them talking about a particularly nasty expedition that resulted in lots of death. That even you weren’t fast enough to escape.”

“Oh, Levi…It’s…It’s my fault for not finding a way to contact you. Trusting someone blindly and waiting for years is just…not possible or rational,” you looked away and squeezed your eyes, your grip on the reins tightening. Levi shook his head.

“I don’t blame you. It’s not like you could’ve come visit personally or sent letters. So you don’t blame yourself either, brat.”

The following weeks were a pure bliss. You spent all your free time with Levi, Farlan and Isabel, filling them in on everything that had happened throughout the years and helping them adjust to the world above.

But dread came. It came too soon for your liking – in the form of the 23rd Expedition.

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

Your squad was mostly responsible for support and defense. Whenever someone shot a black or a purple signal, your squad was to go and assist the squad that had shot the flare.

That’s how you had clashed with Flagon’s squad and you had to combine your strength in order to kill the horde of titans that had appeared suddenly. It was overbearing and a member of your squad was nearly eaten by an abnormal. It was an aggressive abnormal, like nothing you’ve encountered before. Despite the warnings of your squadmates, you had jumped into action, slicing off its hand and entering its mouth in order to grab the girl’s ankle and haul her out. The tongue had been so slippery from the leaking saliva that you had slipped and half of your body had fallen into its mouth. When your arm ceased holding its mouth at bay, it clamped down – not hard enough to snap you in half but hard enough to cut into your meat. Levi had been the one to save you, slashing at the titan and then catching you as you fell once the monster had released you.

Now he was standing awkwardly to the side, fists gripping tightly the handles of the swords, yet shaking, as you were sitting on the ground, back leaning against your horse who had crouched down to serve as your pillar, with the female soldier you had saved wailing and fumbling with the bandages.

“Calm down, dear, it’s not that deep. I just need you to tie the bandages very hard, ok? Like you’re tying a corset,” you encouraged her weakly but her hands seemed to shake even more. Levi tsked as he grabbed them from her hands and shooed her away silently. He grabbed your arm and carefully helped you up, turning you so your back was facing him.

❅

“Wow, Levi, you sure know how to treat gunshot wounds,” you commented as you observed the way he had nursed your injury. It had been a few days since the incident and you were already able to move. The man shrugged.

“Used to it.”

“I have to return home. My family must be worried,” you muttered as you looked apologetically at him. “Do you think you can help me put on my dress? The corset is a pain and it still hurts when I stretch.”

“Tch, come here.”

“Ouch! That’s too tight!”

“Just bear with it.”

❅

He pulled sharply at the bandages, the sound of fabric rubbing harshly against fabric and skin almost sickening as well as the way your waist and belly seemed to become flatter and flatter due to the force and how tight he was tying the bandages around your abdomen. You kept silent. The only thing you allowed were small grunts of discomfort slipping through your lips.

“O-oi, isn’t that too much?” snapped Flagon but you shook your head.

“It’s better than bleeding out. Besides, I need to go to Erwin and the Commander,” you grunted and Flagon furrowed his eyebrows.

“Elaborate.”

“I don’t like this weather. I have a bad feeling about it. It wouldn’t be wise to keep fighting if it starts pouring. It wouldn’t be a problem for the titans but it will be a major hindrance if we cannot see clearly. I’ll go to the center and talk to the Commander,” you explained while Levi finally finished with bandaging you. Your eyes locked and you exchanged gratitude silently. His gaze stayed longer on your form, eyebrows slightly furrowed in concern before he got onto his horse.

“You do have a point. The weather will be very problematic but on the other hand, we cannot cut the expedition so soon. We just left the walls,” reasoned Flagon and you sighed as you climbed on Astaroth. When he felt you on top of him he finally rose to his legs.  

“We can go back and wait until the weather is better, then continue. We are not going to lose anything if we just wait for a bit in Shiganshina.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think that the Royal Assembly will be understanding regarding this matter. They are already up our asses, threatening to defund us at every turn. This will be a good opportunity for them to spit on us yet again,” he growled and you sighed. He had a point, but still…

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about the Royal Assembly. I can deal with them. But I won’t risk the lives of my soldiers and comrades,” you declared firmly and your squad smiled as they looked at you with love and admiration. You were a great leader and you were already thinking and behaving like a Captain. That’s why you were so deserving of this title.

“Let’s go,” you commanded and everyone turned their horses, ready to gallop towards the center.

“Y/N,” Flagon’s voice halted you and you half turned to face him. He had a solemn look on his face. “You can’t save everyone.”

“I can try.”

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

Flagon had been right. So right about you not being able to save everyone. You realized that as you stared at Farlan’s body – bitten in half and lying in the mud with his intestines hanging. Or Isabel’s head at Levi’s feet. Flagon and his squad’s bodies were distorted and strewn throughout the field alongside their horses. It was a nightmarish sight to see. Even more so than usual. Who would have known that there would be more aggressive abnormals? You wanted to throw up right here and now but you were too focused on Levi. Levi whose raw, pain-filled, raging screams you had heard just a few minutes ago. Levi who was trying his hardest not to cry, yet his tears were still there mixed with the remnants of the rain droplets. Levi who screamed at Erwin, confessing that his true goal was to kill him before falling to his knees, seemingly giving up on life.

After Erwin spoke to him and left alongside his squad, Levi didn’t move from his position, eyes hidden behind his bangs, but you still knew that they were focused on Isabel’s head, probably flickering onto Farlan. Your squad members looked at you worriedly. You were too still and unresponding. They weren’t used to seeing you like this.

You gulped as you took a few hesitant steps forward, kneeling in the mud beside the broken man. The same man who you now, after this gruesome expedition that almost cost you your life, finally came to realize you held feelings for – feelings stronger than what someone would hold for a friend.

You gently took his bloodied hand and his eyes snapped to you when he finally lifted his head.

“Let’s go home,” you whispered as you sent him a small smile and he lowered his head again. Despite all, he allowed you to hold his hand and help him stand up and lead him to his horse.

The journey back to the walls was silent. Levi was to ride with your squad. You wanted to watch over him. You were at a total loss. You didn’t know what to expect from him. Therefore you didn’t know what would be the best way to comfort him. One thing was for sure. You had to be ready for him acting like a cold dick and trying to push you away. You supposed that with personality like his, that behavior was to be expected.

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

And you had been completely wrong. He didn’t do anything like that. He didn’t push you away. He wasn’t cold. In fact, it was the total opposite. He accepted your comfort. He accepted your affection, albeit hesitantly. He allowed you to be near him and make him company. You didn’t talk much. Just being near one another was enough.

He thought that you were the only person he had left now. Like hell was he going to push you away. He wanted to be strong and go through this alone. He didn’t want to burden you with his pain. He knew you were suffering too. Yet deep down he bitterly admitted that he needed you to be there for him. He needed you to hold him. He needed your reassuring words and your company that soothed the aching throb in his soul.

❅ 

“Do you believe in reincarnation, Levi?” you asked him one night as the two of you were seated on the rooftop, staring into the skies.

“I don’t know anymore,” he whispered.

“I do. I believe that this body is just a shell and when it crumbles, our soul leaves and finds another one, either on this world or on another. Just look at the sky! It’s so huge! And I’m sure that there is more behind it, the further you go. Worlds upon worlds,” you smiled breathlessly and he raised his eyebrows, looking at the stars intently, as if trying to see beyond them the worlds you were speaking of. “I like to believe that all my friends who die get reincarnated into a world beautiful and free of titans and get to live normal and happy lives. That’s why I think that there is a certain beauty and relief to death, even if it hurts so much.”

“It doesn’t sound half bad,” he breathed out and you gave him one of those warm smiles that poured light into his heart. The type of smiles that almost had him smile back.

❅

He was probably exaggerating but from now on, you truly were…

His everything.

He didn’t care about anyone else. Why should he? It’s not like they cared either. In fact, they kept calling him a criminal. They kept being rude and condescending, mocking him at every turn. Hange, Erwing and Mike were the only exceptions so far, willing to befriend him and actually putting an effort in doing so. And you of course. The rest of the higher ups kept quiet so he didn’t know how they felt about him. But out of all, there WAS one bastard that just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He always went overboard with his insults and disrespect that even some of the cadets who used to hate Levi thought it was barbaric and had a change of heart regarding the matters.

Yeah. His name?

Deckan Caddel.

But you? You were brilliant. Every time Deckan would insult Levi openly, you would jump in his defense and insult the bastard just as fiercely which would make him glare dangerously at you before storming out. Levi always berated you.

“Tch, I don’t want you getting in trouble, dumbass. It’s not worth it.”

But to you it was more than worth it. So you fought. You fought for Levi.

And everything was good until one night, after waking up from a particularly nasty nightmare, you had rushed out of the comforts of your personal quarters and down the hallways. You wanted to go all the way to the male barracks and seek Levi’s comfort but a figure had halted your journey, making you stumble and almost fall down the stairs if a large hand hadn’t grabbed your arm roughly, shoving you against the stone wall.

“And just where is the little slut going?” taunted Deckan and you wriggled, trying to get out of his grasp.

“Let me go!”

“Nah, I don’t think so. Just who do you think you are, huh, little girl?” his voice sent shivers down your spine as his hands held your wrists so tight you swore you heard the bone crack. “I don’t care whether that sewer rat is your lover or your fuck buddy. You aren’t a Captain yet. So if you continue to oppose me and publically humiliate me just to defend him… I’ll make sure to break the life out of you, you hear me?” he growled as his knee slammed into your abdomen, causing you to groan in pain and cough out bits of blood. Said knee then slid down and came to rest between your legs, pressing onto your crotch and making your eyes widen in panic as your struggling became more fierce. “I’ll break you in every single way,” he drawled and his other hand went to grab your chin, squeezing it tightly. “And then I’ll make sure to suspend you from the Survey Corps,” he spat out and your eyes widened. “Or better yet. Now that I think about it, an accidental fall down the stairs might just do the job for me,” he smirked deviously and you gulped, anticipating his next crazy move.

Before any of you could do anything, a hand shot out from the darkness. It grabbed Deckan’s collar and harshly pulled, causing the man to steer off balance and lose his footing. You watched with a combination of relief and horror how everything happened as if in slow motion – him outstretching his hand in order to grab onto something, his body going further away from you before hitting the stone and proceeding to roll down. A thud was heard some seconds later, followed by a painful groan.

Then the sound of someone’s kick connecting with someone’s jaw echoed through the hallway, finally snapping you out of your stupor as you looked down to see Levi crouching down next to a beaten and bloody Deckan who was barely conscious.

“Touch her again and during the next expedition I’ll personally shove you into a titan’s mouth. I’m done with being silent and taking your shit, you filthy swine,” growled Levi and Deckan could only look in fear through his swollen eyes, barely nodding his head. Levi tsked before he climbed the stairs once again, taking your hand and quickly leading you into your office.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered as he closed and locked the door.

“So I should’ve let that mongrel push you down the stairs?” he spat out and you shook your head. “He deserved what he got. I don’t regret my decision.”

“No, but-“

“Don’t! Just…don’t…” yelled Levi before his voice settled into a pained groan, almost cracking as his head lowered letting the bangs cover his eyes, his body slouching against the door. You knew that look. The vulnerable look. “Please, don’t get hurt…not because of me,” he mumbled. “It’s not worth it.”

You frowned as you approached him. Without hesitation, you took his face into your hands and kissed his forehead before you settled his head onto your chest, arms engulfing his form.

“How many times do I have to say it? I’ll die for you if I have to. Because it is worth it. It is worth it if it’s for your sake,” you whispered into his ear as one hand went to stroke his hair and he relaxed in your embrace, sighing softly as his own arms went around your body, pulling you even closer.

“Live for me instead.”

❅

❅

❅

[dr3amofagame]

so... the red banquet, huh?

im not going to lie, i was cheering on the eggpire the entire time (/lh) - what can i say, something abt the demon possessed resident evil crew just speaks to my heart. theyre FUN, ok? 

anyway, a lot of people were theorizing abt what c!dream showing up at the banquet could look like - and, well, i thought i’d write my version of it. this takes place in the “guard dog au” developed primarily by a gc im in on twitter (@stabbysideblog being the main originator of it, do check sunny out !!) - the basic premise is post-getting the revive book from c!dream, c!quackity continues to get his, uh, “use” out of him by basically treating him as a bodyguard/guard dog as he goes around the server - which should probably give you a pretty good idea of how this is going to go :] 

tws: death, grief, implied torture, starvation, abuse, blood, murder, unhealthy relationship, dehumanization, possession, trauma, mental illness, violence, dark content, dark imagery, emotional distress, mental instability, pandora’s vault/prison arc, c!quackity critical (not really, but a very dark portrayal of him) 

A strangled sob claws its way up Puffy’s throat as she watches Foolish fall.

He drops in a spray of golden ichor in the crimson, brilliant green eyes trained on hers, jaw slack in horror, pain, dipping to the ground and whiting out before he’s even fully collapsed. The others’ screams hardly even meet her ears; all she can see is her son, falling, her son, dying, her son, that same sunlit kindness still held in the curve of his lips in this room that knows nothing but pain and betrayal, gone gone gone gone-

Because of her.

Ant’s still staring at her, pupils thinned to needles from the brightness of the lava at their backs, ears alert but stance entirely calm as he twirls his sword, still dripping gold. His mouth is moving but she cannot hear anything above the ring ring ringing in her ears, the world swirling and blurring dangerously from the tears gathering in her eyes and spilling over her cheeks, Ant’s eyes polished rubies where there had once been a cloudless sky. Bad gestures at the crowd, pushed back towards the lava’s fire in their fear, leaving her to stand in the middle of the room as one desperate dying scream, the egg, standing as a silent witness to it all-

“Bad-” a flash of blue, and there’s someone standing in front of her, shoulders pulled back, a diamond sword glittering their right hand, “Stop it.”

“Quackity.”’

Bad snarls, tail whipping back and forth; Puffy takes a step back, then another, shoulders still shaking in grief for her son, for her friends, for everyone who’s about to lose their lives in this twisted realm of crimson and hellfire. There is no fear on Quackity’s face though he stands unarmored, and for the first time in this awful day something like worry flashes over Bad’s face. There’s history here, she realizes - what did Bad say about Quackity attacking? - but none of this is making sense, not the self-assured way Quackity is carrying himself, wings relaxed and folded at his back, not the simmering unease making itself known in the foreign cadence of Bad’s voice.

“Oh my gosh, look at what you’ve done,” Quackity says, voice almost patronizing, like a parent stumbling in on the mess their child has made out of their bedroom, “this is impressive, I’m not going to lie, this is quite impressive.” Puffy swallows thickly, hears the shuddering gasp of someone behind her - Fundy, probably, or Sam - as Quackity’s voice drops. “You have to stop right now.”

“Stop?”

“This whole Egg thing is just getting out of control - you just killed a man,” Quackity stalks across the netherbrick floor like he has all the time in the world, ignoring the crossbows that the Eggpire has trained on his back, guarded only by the off-white shirt he’s wearing, an untied tie hanging limply around his neck. She sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth - my son, they killed my son, she means to say, but the words stick to the walls of her throat and only escape her lungs in another series of wracking sobs. “Is that what you wanted to do, Bad?”

He laughs - laughs, of all things, and there is something here that Puffy is missing, that isn’t clicking through the muddied fog of grief hanging grey and suffocating around her head, but Quackity is speaking again and she can’t think about it all, not now, “-and I’m not gonna have it anymore, Bad.”

He slips over by the crowd, eyes glancing all of them huddled in one fearful mob over the tables, eyes dark and daring and cold; the Eggpire keeps their eyes trained on him, Bad’s eyebrows furrowed, Ant’s muzzle twisted in a snarl. Puffy watches, their words passing over her like water skidding against the surface of a rock splitting a stream in two, heart thudding in her ears, marking out the heartsick beats in this poisoned melody - one-two, her-son, her-son, her-son-

He stops in front of her in the middle of monologuing, eyes trained on her own like he’s trying to tell her something. His eyes flick down and she follows their gaze to his other hand, the one not clasped around a sword handle, watches as he gestures vaguely in the direction of the Eggpire. She frowns, confusion cutting through the grief - what is he trying to say? - and Quackity sighs, index finger slashing in the air in the shape of what might be an A as he spins on his heel to walk back towards Bad and the others.

“So how about we just stop playing?”

Quackity smiles, teeth white and glittering from the lava’s glow even as the Eggpire surrounds him, pushes him back against the wall. Bad seems to hesitate, hand clasped around the trigger of a crossbow he keeps pointed at the other’s head; when he speaks, he almost sounds mournful.

“I can’t,” he mutters, quiet, stepping forwards as his shoulders straighten, pushing Quackity back in a motion that the others are quick to follow. Puffy watches, an awful sinking feeling falling through the hole left in her chest by the sight of her son, falling, her son, dead - watches as Quackity’s wings open, shine golden in the lava’s light - what is he planning?

“You know why I can’t stop.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh through his lungs, “Bad- you and all your buddies here, drop your weapons, and leave. Let all of these people go.”

“Or what?” Ant’s voice is sharp, but Quackity barely pays him a second thought, swinging a glare at his head and cutting him off.

“I’m not talking to you,” he laughs, dismissive, “I’m talking to Bad.”

“No-” Puffy watches as Bad’s hand tightens on his crossbow, punctuating the word with a step forward. “You put your weapon down. If you wanted to stop us?” He’s too close to Quackity for Puffy to make out either of their faces, crossbow bolt aimed and ready to send straight through his skull. She stiffens, sees from the corner of her eye as the ones beside her look away, and resigns herself to the inevitable spray of blood on brick - not again not again don’t make me watch again - “You should’ve brought more than just yourself.”

Quackity laughs.

“I did,” his voice is dangerous in its levity, making Bad, then the rest of the Eggpire step back as his wings spread open further, watching with bated breath and wide eyes as a swarm of white descends from a hidden hole in the wall, “Or, well, I did the next best thing. I brought my worst enemy.”

“What?”

“Alright Quackity, where’s this Egg thing?”

Technoblade jumps down into the room in a familiar purple-black blur of expertly enchanted netherite armor, form impeccable despite the seeming exhaustion in his voice. At his feet, a pack of wolves gather, pace, muscles coiled and clearly ready to strike; he rolls his shoulders back, signature fireworks loaded into his crossbow, and the crowd behind Puffy immediately breaks into shocked murmuring and soft cheers.

On Quackity’s other side, someone else flips into the room, wearing a suit of all things, crisp and well-pressed; Purpled grins, entirely too gleeful as the Eggpire presses back further, held off by the dogs swarming and growling at their feet.

“Purpled- we hired you!”

“To be frank with you, Bad, a sword appears in Purpled’s hand and he flips it casually, blade thin and gleaming, “Quackity just had the better price.”

“We- we still outnumber you!” Bad’s voice is a near-scream in its desperation, his tail lashing back and forth as he shifts his weight forward, “It’s four against three- we’ll still win-” Despite herself, Puffy’s mind spins; either way, they’re still at a disadvantage from sheer numbers alone, never mind Quackity’s lack of armor. Maybe if they all work together, they’ll be able to sufficiently stop them, but there’s no way she can see this ending in anything less than a bloodbath-

“I didn’t want for it to come to this, Bad,” Quackity’s voice drops low and sweet, the sincerity in his tone belied by his glittering eyes and jagged grin. The shift in tone sends a shiver down her back, has even his allies shifting uncomfortably in what seems to be confusion - Puffy catches something like a murmured no from Sam, behind her, before Quackity whistles, loud.

It all happens too fast for her to follow; one moment, the Eggpire is standing, weapons raised and ready to fight; the next, and there is a new netherite-clad figure in the middle of the room, signature sparks of purple from a pearl still glittering around them, axe buried into Antfrost’s chest. The room devolves into shrieks as his body dissolves, Bad gasping sharply and something dark bubbling in Puffy’s chest - good - as the newcomer in the room moves over to Ponk, bloodstained axe swinging in a downward arc, only barely stopped in time by a diamond sword catching on the crook of the blade.

“Go!” Quackity’s voice rings out above the chaos, and Techno and Purpled - seemingly shaken from their shock - fly into motion, fireworks bursting in flashes of red and black that send Puffy blinking out stars from her eyes, Purpled moving to match blows against Hannah and Techno’s army biting at the ankles of the Eggpire leader. Around her, people scream in relief, cheering as the Eggpire, clad in eggshell-blue, are pushed back one by one, hindered by a shifting wave of teeth and claws and clashing blades and netherite moving smoothly over the uneven floor - Bad screams, “RETREAT!”, and they disappear into the wall.

Purpled curses; “I’m going after them.” Puffy watches, still reeling, as he dives into the corridor that Bad had revealed, a flash of purple and blue melting into the shadows; the mystery figure - still hauling a heavy, bloodstained axe, nearly dragging against the floor - moves forward as to follow.

Quackity snaps his fingers, and the figure stops, turns, immediately moving to the winged man’s side. Behind her, Puffy can make out cheers, gasping, hysterical sounds of relief; she can’t join them, feels nothing but the shuddering weight of her grief pressing further on her lungs as the adrenaline fades, head dizzy with Foolish’ sharp gasp in pain, Ant’s yowl of agony. Her eyes flick to the side, catch on Sam pacing, muttering under his breath; when his eyes meet hers, they widen in something like - alarm?

She shakes her head; she can’t think about all of that, right now. Her hooves stumble over the vines and rot strewn over the floor, carrying her forward to the glitter of gold on red, to where her son had fallen and she could do no more but watch with a scream caught between her teeth.

A hand lands on her shoulder- “I’m sorry we couldn’t make it in time.”

She whirls around; Quackity’s looking down at her, face twisted in sympathy. Behind him, the armored stranger looms, hair long and tangled, helmet keeping their face in shadow and hiding their features from view. There’s something distantly familiar to them, in the way they shift from one foot to the other, something that makes her eyes narrow and throat tighten-

“Who are you?” The words tumble from her mouth, making Quackity freeze, jaw snapping shut, the figure behind him tensing almost imperceptibly under their armor. “Who-”

Quackity’s eyes are dark, piercing; she can’t read them, the flat line of his mouth as confusing as it is frustrating. His eyes flick up to somewhere over her shoulder before moving back to her own

“How rude of me,” He smiles, gold tooth glinting, “I didn’t even introduce our special guest.”

His right wing presses against their back, and they drop, immediately, to their knees, making her step back in shock. Quackity’s hand slips easily under the edge of their helmet, ripping it off with little care and letting their hair fall in a wave of dusty browns over their face; he pulls the strands back roughly, revealing the paleness to their skin, the hollows in their cheeks-

“Dream?”

Her breath shudders in her chest, eyes snapping up to Quackity, still smiling, hand still pressed against the back of his skull. Dream’s face is pale, thin, clawed with new scars that highlight the jut of his cheekbones and the dullness of his eyes. He looks up at her, eyes glassy, skin almost grey, and for a moment she’s looking at Foolish, eyes unseeing in death, the luster of his skin stolen like the air from his lungs, and she nearly screams.

“Puffy, Puffy,” Quackity murmurs, almost kind, “It’s alright, see? Everything’s fine now.”

“He- he’s supposed to be in prison,” she hisses, not missing how he flinches, not missing how even that is hindered by the hand braced against his head. He looks strangely small kneeling at Quackity’s side, dwarfed by the netherite he’s wearing; even with an axe strapped to his back, the blade still wet with crimson and reeking of iron and decay, he hardly looks like the villain that had terrorized the server, the son she could no longer recognize in the midst of the bridges he burned.

“Oh- don’t worry about him,” Quackity shrugs, wings fluttering, “It’s all being done with the Warden’s permission, Puffy, I know what I’m doing.” As if to prove his point, his hand tightens on the other’s hair, tugging his head back by the roots; Dream hardly even reacts, simply letting himself be manhandled, throat bare and exposed to the air, similarly criss-crossed by scars. “He’s perfectly well-behaved now, you see?”

Her throat closes, the pit in her gut torn open by the sight of her son with a blade skewered through his heart only growing wider, hungrier, by the dullness in the eyes of the other. Foolish’ death had happened too fast for her to react: one moment, he was staring at her, eyes mournful in goodbye; the next, he was a tumble of gold and green and blue against the floor, half of his name still not having left her lips. Dream’s head swivels to hers, face entirely blank; there is nothing quick written in the gauntness of his face, more scar tissue than skin, in the shadows under his eyes or how they seem to stare, unseeing, in the long, knotted strands of hair twisted over Quackity’s knuckles. He looks like he’s been dying, slowly, for months, and the screaming cry of YOU FAILED ringing in her head in Ant’s voice only grows louder.

“What did you-” the words scrape roughly against the inside of her mouth, “What did you do?”

Quackity shrugs, letting go, and Dream’s head tips forward to stare at the floor. “What had to be done.”

He clicks his fingers again, and Dream stands, falling behind Quackity with his shoulders pulled up to his ears. Quackity hands him back his helmet, keeping his hand stretched out, palm up, even after Dream takes the netherite and fastens it back over his head. Puffy watches, heart stuck in her throat, as Dream fiddles with something by his throat, pulls out a thick coil of iron chains, pressing the end to Quackity’s outstretched hand - the other side, she realizes, fastened around his neck.

Her breath stutters when he looks back at Quackity, gut roiling at the familiarity - it’s an imperfect copy of the way he used to look at her, a skittish shadow at her tail, all awkward smiles and fidgeting hands. Only now, his eyes don’t dance with the same light, his lungs shivering in fear instead of wheezing laughter; she watches as his head follows Quackity like he’s the only person in the room, a duckling imprinted on the nearest person and ready to follow to the ends of the world and further, and her heart shatters all over again.

“Anyway,” Quackity’s eyes soften, lips curled in sympathy, “My condolences, Puffy, for your son. It really is a tragedy.”

She watches him leave with tears in her eyes, a sob once again caught in her throat. The images overlap - Foolish, smiling under the sun’s glow, sitting on the roof of his summer home - Dream, grinning in the treetops, eyes as green as the leaves surrounding him - Foolish, falling in a spray of ichor and a gasp of pain, Dream, grey-eyed and silent, dead as the crimson rot surrounding his beaten body-

My condolences for your son, Quackity’s words echo in her skull, and not for the first time, she laughs miserably, tears falling from her eyes.

Which one?

[starlightshadowsworld]

Son of none

Based off this post: Aka Percy Weasley was abandoned by his family and I don’t think they realised just how much danger an 18 civilian blood traitor son would be when stuck behind enemy lines. Well never fear, a fic is here as if I don’t have any other drafts...any whoooo

@transparentfreakpursepanda

Warning for blood, torture, self loathing. Mentions of bullying and neglect. Cursing.

(Also while writing this I was listening to Polaris by Natewantstobattle and...yeah if you want more angst while reading this listen to them and think of Percy :)  )

Percy deserved this.

Knowing that didn't change things. It didn’t make it easier to make it duck past the office that had once belonged to Barty Crouch Sr without feeling dread and greif. As harsh as the man could be and that he had not bothered to learn Percy's name... Percy still mourned his loss. For all that he was, Barty Crouch Sr had been a good man.

Life at the ministry taught him quickly, that kind of wizard was few and far between.

He wondered if the look Barty Crouch Sr had shared with his son before his death wax the same his father had shared with him the day he left.

Maybe it wasn't wise to compare yourself to a deranged murderer, but if that's the kind of wizard his family thought he was...

"Weasley"

It was stern, drenched in spite that was not unlike his old potions professor. But sadly even Snapes treatment of him in class did not hold a candle to what was happening now.

Percy lifted his head, it felt heavy. Infact all of him felt that he was on fire. The figure infront of him came into focus, not that Perch could quite recall his name. Edward? No that didn't seem right. Not Edward was his wand in hand and looked very annoyed, his dark mark was on full display.

Percy became very well aware in that moment that he couldn't move. He was bound to a chair in a room that looked very much like a cellar. He was still in his ministry robes, though they were dirty and tattered and stained in something.

It took Percy longer than he should've to realise it was his own blood. Not that he knew where he was bleeding from. "You Gryffindors and your bloody stubbornness" sneered Not Edward, he was a broad man, towering over Percy.

"You're wasting my time, and yours of you don't hurry up and tell me where your family is hiding." Percy shook his head, defiantly even if his body protested at the sudden movement. "Like I said before, even if I did know, I would never tell you." 

And than Not Edward would shout profanities all the while using his subordinates to use Percy as target practice till he passed out. That had been the cycle for... Well he wasn't sure for how long. Apart from the first time when Percy had weaved a convincing story about the family heading to Romania to hide away with Charlie...a whole false hunt that ended with the brand he now had on his arm. 

But this time was different.

Not Edward smirked "thought you'd say that, no matter. We've found out how to get there attention, and they'll hand themselves over." Percy laughed, it was a strangled and it sent another wave of pain through his body.

Not Edward was still smirking, in fact if anything his confidence grew. "And better yet, you're going to the bait that brings them here." And that stopped Percy laughing at once, he was quieter. "What makes you think they'd come" the words were barely above a whisper that echoed throughout the room.

Not Edward (Percy really needed to learn this man's name for his own internal monologue's sake) rolled his eyes "don't pull that on me, you Weasely's are more attached than a bunch of grapes. Rest assured, they'll be coming one way or another."

With that he left. Percy tried not to think about the fact a death eater had more confidence in his families arrival than he did. His mind wandered to the day he left, guilt pooled in his stomach. No amount of head trauma would erase the disgust and rage in Arthur’s eyes, Percy knew at that moment he had lost all right to call the man father. 

He could never look him in the eye again, he couldn’t even look himself in the mirror without seeing him staring back. His mothers eyes haunted him, she’d been the only one to try to reach out but he had slammed that back in her face. Not that Percy should have been surprised, he’d always been a parasite. 

If anything they must’ve been relived to be rid of him. 

They wouldn’t come, he knew that. Than why did his heart race, did tears threaten to fall and his stomach churn at the thought? Percy thought of his siblings, young and old...they wouldn’t have given him a second thought. Fred and George would mourn the loss of their favourite target, but they would move on they all would if they hadn’t already. 

For Percy though, this was the end of the line. 

_______________________________________________________________

Weasley family dinners were always something else, Bill knew this better than most. He smiled to Fleur who sat at his side, amusement on her face as they both watched Molly do as she does best. It was organised chaos at its finest, and while Shell cottage was a far cry from the Burrow, somehow it all came together. Harry was laughing at a story Ginny and the twins were telling, Charlie and Hermione were actually helping Molly along with Arthur. 

But even with how familiar it was, it was missing a certain brother rolling his eyes at the story and telling the true ending to the annoyance of the twins. Who would than direct the others to helping out with dinner to there mothers amusement. 

Percy. 

Ever since the watch, a muggle watch at that had arrived on his wedding day, with no name for the sender but only Bill’s name signed by an all too familiar handwriting...Bill hadn’t been able to take his mind of his little brother. His absence at his wedding and just seeing him around the house stuck out like a sore thumb to Bill. He wasn’t the only one either, he could see how his Mum would pause her eyes searching before looking down and moving onto something else.

Much like now when she put down the plates and realised that she’d left a little extra to the side. “Mum, I get that you miss him but you can’t keep doing this. Percy’s not coming back” the first to say it was Charlie, his voice soft like he was talking to an irate dragon. “Good riddance” that came from Ginny, in that whisper that wasn’t even trying to be quiet. 

Instantly Molly became much like a dragon. “Ginevera Molly Weasley, don’t you dare speak about your brother like that!” She yelled, hot tears burning in her eyes. “Molly...” Interjected Arthur, putting a calming hand on his wife’s shoulder “you can’t blame her for her anger. Come on, let’s dig in.” And that should have been the end of it but Molly turned to him, her own temper boiling. 

“Don’t you start, Arthur. Don’t you tell me I should be sat eating dinner while my son is out all alone.” She spat. “Mum, it’s fine Percy’s probably having high tea with the new minister, talking about the importance of  cauldron bottoms” snickered Fred, “pfft yeah, just sat around telling the dark lord about his book report” agreed George. Bill frowned, as did Fleur but that was nothing compared to Molly. 

Her gaze hardened and the twins shut up instantly, they’d never seen her this mad. “I dont care if you hate him, I don’t care if this isn’t my home...you speak of my son following HIM, get out of my sight now.” She said, slumping into a nearby chair. Bill stood up, putting his own hand in his mums which she took gratefully. “Percy may be the most ambitious lion around, but he wouldn’t join you know who. He left to join the ministry because that's what he believed in, death eaters isn’t even in the equation.”

And Bill meant those words. More than he ever thought he would. 

“Though is there any difference between the death eaters and the ministry anymore?” Asked Harry, the place was filled with them after all. “Yeah? Might be but they’ve kept the employees, not that I know what’s going on in there anymore.” Said Arthur, adding his 2 galleon’s into the mix. “And there not going to take kindly to a Weasley” Said Hermione, making everyone look down as if they hadn’t just realised that. 

It didn’t matter if Percy had disowned himself, his family was very much publicly fighting the people he was now stuck with. 

And that was when fate decided to be extra cruel and the radio burst into life. 

“Greetings from the Ministry. Our daily transmission has already been received today but we have an exceptional treat for the wizarding public. We will be instead hosting an interview with one of our newest employees, give a hand folks to Percival Ignatius Weasley.”

Everyone in the room froze, and yet Ron who was the only one of the family minus Fleur not to speak, ran to the radio and put the volume as loud as he could. 

“Say hello your family, Percival.” Taunted the voice, it was very gleeful as it spoke. No response was heard. “Oh, silly me I forgot how many hours you young people work, not to worry let’s get him up boys.” 

A splash was heard and a shuddering scream. “Morning Percival, sorry do you prefer Percy? Don’t care, lets start the interview. So Percival, how are you finding the ministry?” Everyone sat with baited breathe.

And yet it was there Percy who, through shuddered breaths managed to whisper a “fuck you...fuck you and your ministry”

“Well that is very rude, and here I thought your mother would have taught you manners” “don’t...don’t you talk about her.” Said Percy, Molly broke down into tears and Bill held her close. Unable to tear his gaze from the radio, no one could. 

“What do you want to say them? I’m sure they’ve missed you. In fact, just for you we’ll be hosting a party. And there all invited to the ministry, so long as they bring a certain Mr Potter.” 

There was a silence before “don’t come...don’t. Whatever you do, don’t... it’s fine. I’m fine, I love it here.” He laughed, everyone cringed at the sound he made, as if he was choking. “It’s fine, don’t come...parties are overrated yeah.” The transmission started cutting off, Ron frantically along with the twins tried to get it working. 

They heard “too busy. Don’t come, Harry don’t...stay where you are!” Before the  transmission cut off.

No one could speak, horror was etched into all of there faces. The twins were scrabbling over themselves with wand in hand to track where the transmission had come from. 

The Ministry. 

“We’re going...now” said Molly, standing up. Her tears were gone, grabbing for her wand and coat. “Molly...be rationale, we need to plan this.” Said Arthur, Molly spun on her heel and glared. “I am not going to sit here while those...monsters torture MY son! Planning will take to long, did you hear him Arthur?! Did you hear your son crying out in pain...he doesn’t have long left...” Arthur looked down, unable to respond. 

Molly looked at the rest of the family, her gaze saying it all: You can come with me or you can stay. The first to stand was Bill, closely followed by Fleur who met his thankful gaze with a determined smile. Charlie and Ron were next, grabbing there wands with Harry and Hermione following. Ginny and the twins exchanged guilty looks but stood. Arthur couldn’t look at any of them, he simply picked up his wand. 

“Harry, I understand if you wish to stay” said Molly, he shook his head. “I might not know him well but Percy’s family 2...I cant sit here while you guys go even with the danger.” He replied, and somehow that was all it was, Percy was family...enough said. 

And so the family of lions got up and left, to find the one they left behind. 

_______________________________________________________

Percy was terrified.

A part of him argued that he should be grateful they came at all for him. Maybe it was out of pity, out of ensuring that he wasn't able to be used against them.

Yes, that's all it was. He was nothing afterall, he was merely a civilian in a war.

And yet hearing Molly tearfully and frantically whisper his name. Hearing Hermione yell the counterspell to his imprisonment to Ron who did so perfectly. Seeing the light of spells cast by Ginny and the twins to stun Not Edward... (Who was apparently called Edgar... Eh close enough.)

Feeling Charlie carry him in his arms, mumbling curse words. Smelling Arthur's cologne.

It all felt right. It was warmth that he couldn't remember experiencing. It was enough to lull him to a facade that everything was fine.

But when his wounds were healed and he saw them all looking at him... Percy knew he had to shelf that dream. "I told you not to come" was the first thing he said, averting his gaze. (Couldn't look them in the eye)

"And you must've lost a few screws if you thought we wouldn't" said Bill, meeting Percy's gaze. "You shouldn't have" is all he replied. "And what, let you be killed by the ministry?" Gaped Ginny. Percy shrugged "wouldn't have made much difference, you've only gone and put yourselves in more danger."

"Are you... Are you fucking with us right now?" Asked Fred, incredously. "No, im too busy ranting about cauldron bottoms to do that." And if Fred paused, Percy didn't see it.

Seeing as no one was getting anyway, Bill sat beside Percy who immediately felt on edge. "Thanks for the watch" he said simply. Everyone blinked in confusion and than realisation as no one has known where Bill's new watch had come from. Percy smiled faintly "You're welcome, reminded me of you."

"Although, I do wish you could've gave it in person" continued Bill, testing the waters. Percy surprised him by shaking his head "no you wouldn't have. It was your day, I wasn't going to ruin it." Bill frowned "is that what you think?" Percy shrugged again "it's what I've been told."

"You are way to chill after being tortured" said Charlie, Percy looked at his bandaged arms and snorted. "Eh? It's nothing new. That guy was just there for the theatrics, sadist if you ask me." Charlie raised an eyebrow "nothing new?" Percy nodded "yeah, what you think the ministry that's so far up Voldermorts ass would allow me to work there without some 'interviews'."

Everyone paled.

"But than why stay there?" Asked Arthur, Percy froze. Steeling himself, switching from calm to panic to calm in an instant but they all saw. "I've got business there, things I need to get done and ensure are done. Speaking of which, thanks for the rescue but I should be off."

He didn't belong here. Not anymore.

"Percy, you can stay." Said Molly, already standing up to get his room prepared. "No, I can't. I have work, I have a duty... And I'm no longer part of this family." When he said that, Percy felt like the wind was knocked out of him but stood his ground. "Percy... That's not true.."

Percy met Arthur's gaze, his father's eyes. "Really? Than pray tell why did no one tell me you were all in hiding... Or a warning? And don't say it was impossible because I managed to send a parcel to a location I didn't even know about nor knew existed."

No one could answer that.

"I'll be off, and don't worry I won't tell them anything. Just do what you do best, and leave me alone." Arthur managed to grab Percy's wrist though he hissed in pain and pulled his arm back like he'd been burnt. "Don't.. Touch me, Arthur Weasely."

Arthur recoiled, Percy looked away. "I spent my whole life wanting to be someone you could be proud off...I listened to all the critism and yes I was a prat. But the moment I made my own choice you already made me aware I didn't belong in my own house. I’m sorry...that I’m not athletic like Ginny, I’m not smart like Ron or as successful as Bill and Charlie, I’m not a hero like a Ron or fun like Fred and George. That I’m just plain ol prat Percy.”

He began to walk away. Just like he did before.

"That choice was against following Dumbledor, turning against the light." Said Molly, wanting him to understand. Percy laughed, with no humour at all but glaring hard. Rage emanated from him.

"I'm sorry if I choose not to stand behind an old coot who routinely sends an abused boy to his abusers, who nearly got 3 11 yearolds killed because he wanted to weed out a possibility. Who nearly got thousands of children killed and did nothing to save Ginny with the chamber. The man who wouldn't give an innocent man a trial and got him sent to the worst prison for 12 years... Who put teenagers in a death game and let an underage kid join because why not. That man is a monster and I refuse to follow someone like that. But no that means I'm blindly following authority." He sneered, staring at them all.

"And the ministry? Because as corrupt and fucked up as it is I know I can do something. That changes can be made in the systems to benefit everyone, Dumbledor is someone who breeds child solider’s and let's a known abuser teach at his school and somehow I’m the only one who isn't okay with that."

And with that Percy left, no one knew what to say. They simply sat in silence, absorbing everything they just heard. Ginny thought about how Percy had profusely apologised after she was free from the chamber, how he’d made time for her since than. Ron thought of all the times they’d have an adventure and Percy would watch over them like a mother hen. 

Bill and Charlie recalled when Percy would still come to them for help before he started Hogwarts. When they found him bruised and broken from bullies except this was because of them. “He really thinks that doesn’t he...?” Said Fred, George nodded. Neither could smile, guilt pooled in their hearts that they didn’t think he felt like that. 

Molly sobbed for her son who was once again lost and Arthur wondered where he had gone wrong to lose his son all over again. 

________________________________________________

Meanwhile Percy entered a muggle flat in London. Alone again just like he belonged, laying on his bed and looking at the brand on his arm.

'Son of none'

And if that didn't hurt most of all.

Suffice to say they all things to think about for when they’d meet again. 

[mca-attack21]

Distraction part 1

This is a mini series that is Scott x Reader. And before you ask, yes I am still writing the Stiles Sis Fic series the next part will be out relatively soon. I've been busy planning out the later seasons so I could make sure to time everything correctly. Anyways, for more of my writing here is my Masterlist.

Friday

It started as a normal day, you woke up and prepared for school. It was not long before your phone lit up with messages from your boyfriend. It was something along the line of ‘Good morning beautiful’ ‘I can’t wait to see you at school’ ‘I love you’. Every message caused the smile on your face to grow. You loved Scott. He was the guy who had seen you at your worst but would only talk about you at your best. He had a unique ability to make everything better. It was like as long as the two of you were together, nothing could ever stand in your way.

You were about to leave your house when your phone buzzed again. This time the text was from Lydia. ‘Ready for this weekend?’ she sent. ‘Totally, my bags are already in the car’ you replied. You, Allison, and Lydia were going to leave right after the Lacrosse game and go up to one of her family’s cabins. She had decided that you were in need of mandatory girl time. After all, you hadn’t spent much time together with all of the supernatural chaos.

It was a normal school day. You were greeted by Scott and Stiles. You sat through all of your classes, met up with Lydia at lunch, and talked to Scott during your shared free period. After school was over you hung out with Scott until he had to start getting ready for his game.

“I wish you didn’t have to go with Lydia” he pouted jokingly.

“It’s not that big of a deal Scott I’ll be back Sunday night,” you replied.

“I know but that is two whole days without you,” he answered.

“Exactly, it’s two days” you laughed, “You’ll be fine” you added.

“We can text, right?” Scott asked.

“Well as much as I would love to, Lydia would kill me, and there is no signal up there anyways,” you answered.

“This is about to be the longest 48 hours of my life,” Scott groaned.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s a good opportunity to have some bro time with Stiles, maybe you can finally watch Star Wars,” you remarked as you started to get up.

“Not so fast,” Scott said as he pulled you back down onto his bed and kissed you.

“Scott” *kiss* “I” *kiss* “Love” *kiss* “you, but” *kiss* “we have” *kiss* “to go” *kiss* you managed to say before he pulled away. You tried to look away from him knowing you were blushing hard. “Good luck tonight, not that you’ll need it. I love you and I’ll see you Sunday if not before then,” you said hugging him.

“I love you too Y/n, I’ll see you at the game,” he returned.

You went to Lydia’s house and went through the plan one last time. She went through a checklist to make sure that neither you nor Allison had forgotten anything. After that, it was time for the three of you to go to the game.

You watched the game and cheered for both Scott and Stiles. The team won 5-3. You were getting ready to go when Allison realized that she forgot to put her bag in Lydia’s car. Lydia was going to take her back and grab the bag. You decided to use the time to catch your boyfriend before leaving. You were weaving through the crowd when someone’s hand went over your mouth. “Nighty Night Y/n,” you heard an eerily familiar voice before feeling a pinch in your neck and seeing everything fade to black.

‘Hey Lyds, I’m really sorry but my mom called. She’s in the hospital. It’s not serious, but I’m staying here with her.’

Lydia text you back, ‘Do you want us to come with you, we can reschedule’

‘No don’t do that. Go have fun. We can hang out next weekend’

‘Are you sure? It’s not that big of a deal,’ she replied.

‘Don’t worry Lydia, it’s fine, just enjoy yourselves, I’ll see you Monday’

‘Okay, see you Monday’ She answered as she and Allison started to leave.

“What’s up?” Allison asked.

“Something came up and Y/n can’t come with us,” Lydia answered.

“Awe, that’s too bad, you still want to go?” Allison questioned.

“Of course, let’s do this, phones off” she replied, turning off her own phone.

Scott was dragged to a party with Stiles. It was for a friend of Stiles’, Heather. Scott didn’t really want to go, he couldn’t get drunk and he wouldn’t know anyone other than Stiles. But Stiles had insisted that it would make the time without you and Lydia more bearable. As Stiles entered he was greeted with a passionate kiss from none other than the birthday girl herself. He was quickly whisked away to the wine cellar. Scott reluctantly moved into the living room, grabbed a drink, and pulled out his phone. He smiled as he saw he had a text from you. ‘Hey babe, I’m leaving with the girls, turning my phone off now. Love you, see you Sunday!’

That was the last text sent before your phone was shut off and thrown in the dumpster behind the school. “That will buy me some time,” your kidnapper replied before driving away with you unconscious in the back seat.

Saturday

The day started off pretty normally for Scott. He went to text you before he remembered that you wouldn’t have service. He was glad that you were able to get away and relax with the girls. He had decided to go to the field with Stiles to practice Lacrosse. But he couldn’t shake a gut feeling that something was wrong. Stiles explained to Scott that there was a body found and that he was waiting on his dad to see if it was anything supernatural. Scott couldn’t help but be slightly uninterested. He was tired of death and the supernatural world, he was just a kid, and for once he wanted to act like it. Scott stared out the window of Roscoe, and wondered what you were doing right now.

........

You woke up and were caught completely off guard. It was dark and you were sitting knee-deep in water. There was a light above you. You must have been in a well. But you couldn’t remember how you would have got here. You went to reach for your aching head and realized that your hands were bound. You tried standing up splashing the water around which sent a shiver through your body. You wondered how long you had been missing. You weren’t that worried though, you were supposed to be with Lydia and Allison. They wouldn’t have left without you. And once Scott found out, he’d come for you. But then again, you were trapped in water, which meant he’d have a hard time following your scent. And you didn’t know how long you’d already been down here. You started to worry, trying to break your hands free so you could attempt to climb the wall. But that would take hours.

Meanwhile:

Scott and Stiles were at Stiles' house about to start their movie marathon when Stiles got a text. “Woah dude, you remember that body they found earlier?” Stiles asked, rereading the message in disbelief.

“Yeah, what about it?” Scott asked, wishing he could have one night off.

“It wasn’t just your average dead body. There was a significant blow to the head, his throat was slashed, and he was strangled by a garrote,” Stiles explained.

“Okay Stiles, but that doesn’t exactly sound supernatural, can’t we let the police handle this one?” Scott tried.

“Yeah I guess, but talk about overkill,” he answered, though he was planning on looking into it more after his best friend went home. Nothing was ever as it seemed in Beacon Hills, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t prepared for the worst-case scenario.

The two of them ate pizza and started to watch the first movie, however it wasn’t long after Scott finished eating that he fell asleep. Stiles took this time to do research on the latest murder.

Later that night:

You had finally managed to unbind your hands after what felt like hours of scraping them against the brick. You wanted to climb up the wall but it was now so dark that you could barely see your hand in front of your face. You decided that it would have to wait until morning. You sat back in the cold water, trying to find a safe position to sit in. The water was so cold. Your throat was sore from the screaming you had done earlier. You started crying as you realized the severity of your situation. You could die down here. You were going to die down here if someone didn’t find you soon. You thought about Scott. The only comfort that you felt was in knowing that he was out there looking for you. After a while, you drifted out of consciousness.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Extreme Aggressor: Part One

Pairing: Eventual Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, woman gets killed in an alley, talk of strangling and stabbing a woman

Summary: Jason Gideon is called back from a six-month leave from the Behavioral Analysis Unit to profile a killer. Meanwhile, the team flies across the country to Seattle when another young woman goes missing at the hands of "The Seattle Strangler," another serial killer.

Author’s Note: Here is it finally! After hard work, it is finally ready for your viewing pleasure! Please, feedback is always appreciated so let me know what you like about it and what you didn’t! 

I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

So without further ado, please enjoy!

"The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary. Men alone are quite capable of every wickedness." - Joseph Conrad

Not everyone knows this but each and every person has an aura around their body as if it hovers to remind people like you that they have things to hide. Not many people can see and do what you can do, but then again, you don’t want them to. All your life, you have been able to connect with people on a much deeper level than the average human. Those auras contain energies that you are able to connect with, therefore see more than what the normal eye can.

This ability that you have has gotten you in places you should never be. It’s gotten you where another dare not to venture. It’s allowed you to see the true intention and personality of a person no matter how high and thick their walls may be. Now, some people are better at hiding their true selves than others, but you always manage to figure out what makes them tick.

Your abilities have captured the attention of a really great friend, Jason Gideon. When he figured out the thing you could do, he knew you would make a great addition to his team. Granted, he was on a “summer break” so to speak, but he would be more than happy to give you a recommendation. It’s not that you didn’t want to work for the FBI, you just didn’t know if you would be good enough.

Never have your abilities let you down even if they didn’t always give you want you wanted. No one really knew what you could do, not even your family. It made you feel like a freak, like you never belonged anywhere since all you could do was see on the soulful plane. Maybe the BAU would benefit from having you on board, but would you benefit from having the BAU on your side? Your father always told you never to join any kind of government work, and at the time, he gave a good enough reason to keep you away. Something about them always taking jobs right from underneath everyone’s noses, and you believed him when you were a kid.

Now, not so much.

It was hard to when all you saw was death wherever you go. You didn’t ask for this ability, but you got it, and it was your responsibility to help as many people as you could with it until the day you die. That was the only reason why you were considering taking Jason up on his offer. There was still some hesitation on your shoulder, and you thought a walk would do you nice.

The crowded city rushed on without you, but you only had one thing on your mind. It was the busiest part of the city, but you liked walking through there once in a while. Everyone’s thoughts and feelings came to light when they were in a rush. It bombarded you and often overwhelmed you, but nothing overcame the sickening feeling you got in your stomach when you stepped on Jefferson Rd.

The energy in the air swirled around you, but it wasn’t energy from the people around you; it was from the dead. Even spirits leave energy behind when they pass which allow people like you to snatch it up to figure out their story. The way it works is that you become so overwhelmed with the emotions and the energy that you begin to see some of the last moments that spirit went through before it passed. You are allowed to see it based on how well you connect with it.

Some people have called you being psychic while other people called you a witch. Being an empathetic person helped you see the picture clearly. Not always will you get a clear one, and sometimes, you may not even get a full body. It’s whatever the spirit left behind and wanted you to see. They laid down the stepping stones, and it was up to you to be able to pass them.

Standing still in the middle of the sidewalk, you looked to your left to see a woman appear out of thin air. She was a bit transparent which is how you were able to spot the difference between an energy source and a real human. She was maybe in her mid-twenties, and she was jogging with headphones in. She passed by you without a second glance, and everyone around you seemed to disappear since the only person you were able to focus on was her.

She jogged for a few more seconds when a black apparition came out of the alley not far from you. The black shape grabbed at the woman, but you needed to replay that scene over if you wanted to connect with his spirit. Sometimes, when a picture isn’t clear, you have to replay the mini silent movie over and over again until you can either get a clear picture or you knew that you weren’t getting anything more.

As if you had a remote in one hand, you pressed it which rewound the action. The woman jogged backwards past you to where she first emerged, and you hit the play button. Just like before, she jogged past you, minding her own business when the black shape came at her. This time, he was a bit clearer. Repeating this process over and over again, you watched the woman get kidnapped about twenty more times before you could see the exact details of the man’s face.

He grabbed her and pulled her into the alley, but you couldn’t seem to move. The clearer the picture, the stronger the energy. The stronger the energy meant the event you watched happened recently. The longer the event goes unsolved, the less amount of energy you are able to connect with.

Something happened in that alley, but you dreaded going anywhere near it. However, this woman’s story was untold, and her spirit won’t rest unless someone tells it for her. Taking a deep breath, you looked at the busy street and suddenly remembered that you were in the middle of a city with a bustling amount of people around you.

Pushing past the crowd, you made your way to the alley until you were completely alone as the rest of the world left the single girl who was in the alley alone. There was one particular spot that drew you in, and you took a few steps towards it before getting another vision. The man jammed a knife into the woman’s abdomen, and you gasped when you felt her emotional pain. Being an empath is really hard work since you had more than yourself to worry about.

The woman dropped to the ground with a loud thud, and the man kept stabbing her over and over again until she was way past dead. Once he was satisfied, he took the murder weapon with him and fled the scene, running right past you to do it. It took everything in you to look away from his eyes despite your body telling you to do so.

The noise of the busy city drowned out the sound of a body thumping on the ground, and you crept to the area where she was stabbed. Instead of a body, there was a thick blue tarp covering the ground. It looked like a body was underneath it, but it could be trash. Please let it be trash. Please let it be trash. Picking up the end of the tarp with your gloved hand, you peeked underneath it to see wide soulless eyes staring at you.

The shock overwhelmed you, and you dropped the tarp in shock. Tears threatened to escape your eyes, but if it wasn’t for you, this woman probably would have never been found—or, at least, not right now. From what you could gather, the body was still fresh with only sight signs of decaying. If you called the police now, they might be able to find her killer.

Taking out your cellphone, you dialed 911 and put in an anonymous tip before getting the hell out of there. It didn’t take long for first responders to arrive on scene, and you watched from the deli across the street as they uncovered her. She was found because of you. She is going to get justice because of you.

That was all the evidence you needed to make your decision.

Taking out your phone once more, you called your dear and beloved friend. It took him three rings to pick up.

“Jason, it’s me, Y/N. I’ll take it.”

Gideon was sucked back into the BAU on a case after he needed to take some time for himself. He was involved with a bomber that took out one hostage and six agents, so you could understand why he requested for your help. He trusted you to aid this team in finding a killer, especially when he saw what you can do first-hand. It was hard to explain your abilities to someone who couldn’t possibly understand, but you knew you had to since he had a jet full of his other teammates.

It didn’t take long to get to the airport where the jet was waiting, and before you ascended the stairs, you could feel everyone’s emotions—impatient, curiosity, calmness, and eagerness. They were all waiting for you, and you needed to show them that you belonged on their team. Walking on the jet, all heads turned at the new presence. Gideon stood up and approached you with a welcoming smile on his face.

“It’s good to see you again,” he stated.

“Well, you needed me. Here I am,” you nodded, looking at everyone else on the jet.

The person you noticed first was what you assumed to be the second person in charge. He had almost black hair and a hard gaze since he didn’t really like newcomers. The next person was a black male who emitted impatience since he just wanted to get in the air. The last person was a scrawny young male which is where the curiosity was coming from.

“Y/N, this is my team. Agent Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, and Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“Spencer Reid?” you asked, and the young man perked up at the sound of his name. “Sorry, but I’ve read everything you have ever written especially Identifying Non-obvious Relationship Factors Using Cluster Weighted Modeling and Geographic Regression. You have a very intelligent mind.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, clearly impressed that you read his work.

“Guys, this is my good friend Y/N that I’ve asked to help us on this case.”

“Is she FBI?” Hotchner asked.

“Not exactly.”

“I am what’s known as an empathetic psychic. If ‘witch’ makes you sleep better at night, then call me that. I see things that most people are not able to see. I connect with people’s energies, especially the dead. Believe it or not, I see events that lead up to someone’s death due to the energy and the spirit they leave behind. The more recent the event, the stronger of a picture I get. It doesn’t always give me what I want, but it always provides me with what I need. I’ll be a valuable asset to this team.”

“I already approved it with the board. She has her firearm qualification and she passed the academy with flying colors,” Gideon sided with you.

“We need to get going. We’ll see how you do on this case,” Hotchner nodded.

With that, the plane was off. It wasn’t until the pilot let you know it was safe to move around the cabin that everyone start to talk about the case.

“His first victim was Melissa Kirsh—stab wounds and strangulation,” Spencer read from the file.

“Wait, wait. Back up. Back up,” Derek interrupted. “He stabbed her and then strangled her to finish her off?”

“Other way around,” Gideon cleared his throat before turning to you, the hopefully newest member of the team. “Why do you think he started using the belt with the second murder?”

“Strangulation with your bare hands is not as easy as one would believe,” you said, earning a few stares from the others. You knew it would take some time for them to get used to you, especially when they didn’t even know you. The fact that you’re with them is because you’re friends with Gideon. “He tried and probably found that it took too long so he stabbed her instead and realized it would be hours cleaning up the blood.”

“Next time, our boy's got a method—the belt,” Derek added.

“He's learning and perfecting his scenario. Becoming a better killer,” Gideon stated.

“So, Y/N, where did you learn about profiling?” Hotchner asked, taking a break from the case.

“I have a PhD in Criminal Justice with a sole focus on profiling. Another one in Psychology which better helps me connect with others. I thought Gideon told you all of this,” you asked, looking at your friend.

“How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” Spencer asked.

“Twenty-three. Well, I turn twenty-three in a few months.”

“Wow, I’m impressed. How did you get two PhD’s at your age?”

“How’d you get three at yours?”

“I’m a genius with an eidetic memory.”

“Yeah, well, I worked my ass off to get where I am so just know that you’re not letting just anyone on this jet with you. I’d be happy to prove myself to you guys. I’ve been doing it since I could read.”

“There’s a few more of us you still have to meet,” Hotchner stated.

“Lucky you, Reid,” Derek grinned. The young doctor stared at his friend in confusion. “You’re not the youngest one here anymore.”

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