#I WONT HESITATE. MY HEART IS FILLED WITH VIOLENCE

[ellaa-writes]

I should really be working on my other fic's but I just need to get this out of my head. Not proof read (when is anything)

Cw: dubcon/cnc. Drugs, smut, blood, death, and violence. 18+, MDNI

Another boring party, a gathering of people you didn't care much for. They are your boyfriends friends and associates, they scare you. Being around a bunch of drunk idiots, lines of coke and who knows what spread out on the coffee table.

You should have broken up with him a long time ago. But the sex was decent and he liked spending his money on you. Luxury vacations, a new car, a penthouse in the city and all the best designer clothes. You became complaint in this mess.

Stumbling away from the dwindling party goers, trying to get away from the noise and to find your boyfriend Sergi. You always hated this house, so isolated in the woods. Acres of nothing but wilderness surrounding you, mocking you. The hallways always a maze, trying to find the door to the bathroom.

Staring at yourself in the mirror, surrounded by marble, quartz and gold fixtures. Your eyeliner was smudged, lipstick long gone. You looked like you fell down a flight of stairs. Wiping away the mess and making yourself look less depressing. Fresh air, that's what you needed.

Walking back out, everything was eerily quieter than before. A few people still sprawled out on the white leather sofa, in different stages on undress. You avoided looking, not wanting to see what comes next. Wandering down another white empty hallway, following the sound of hushed voices. Finding your boyfriend, and two of his closest friends gathered around a desk. Talking about the next shipment and distribution. His eyes snapping to yours, a quick flick of something nafarious behind him before he smiled big, beckoning you inside.

"Come darling." he motioned for you to enter, you hesitated. "I'm going to go get some air." you mumbled, stumbling towards the back entrance that led to the pool and patio. Hearing your boyfriends footsteps catching up to you. His arms encasing you from behind, pulling you into his chest.

"You ok?" he asks, a small hint of genuine concern. "Yeah, yes. I- just needing air. That's all." you struggled to say. His lips peaking you in the side of your head as he let you go. Giving your ass a hard smack, a small yelp leaving your throat. "Don't be gone for too long." it was a warning, one you wont take lightly. Giving him a small smile as he walked back to the office.

Soon as you stepped into the crisp night air you sucked in a deep breath. Allowing it to fill your lungs and blowing it back out. Taking a seat on one of the lounge chairs, closing your eyes and indulging in the silence.

Glass, the sound of it shattering disturbing your small slice of peace.

"What the hell was that?" you asked yourself, sitting up in the lounger, side eyeing the house. That's when the screams started to come in. Turning your blood into ice, you shot up from your spot. Racing to the door your came from, and towards the office. The door was closed and locked, you started to bang on it before hearing gun fire coming from the common area.

Your heart was racing, what the hell was going on. Before you could gather yourself one of your boyfriends came running around the corner. His clothes covered in blood, his eyes locked on you as he ran up. Taking a hold of you as he continued to run back down the hallway towards the back entrance.

"We gotta get the fuck out of here." he was yelling right into your ear but he sounded so far away. Your mind was locking up, struggling to understand how dire your situation has become.

"What-.. What the fuck is going on?" you asked the man, trying to remember his make. Leo, it has to be. "It's a fucking sting, we need to get far away." he dragged you down the stone steps leading towards the front of the house. Coming to a stop, armoured vechiles were blocking the driveway.

"Fuck." he whispered, looking around for another option. "Where's Sergi?" you asked Leo, your boyfriend where the hell is he?

"Hiding that mother fucker." Leo hissed quietly. He finally looked at you, his head tilted has he looked you up and down. Suddenly becoming very self conscious of your barely there dress. You yanked you hand from his grip, taking a few steps back. His face twisting into anger.

"Where the fuck you think your going." he hissed, stomping towards you. You bolted, running back into the house. Turning the corner and being met with a blood bath, three bodies filled with bullet holes and oozing blood. You had to shut your eyes to stop the vomit from rising. "You stupid fucking bitch." Leo roared from behind you, you ran past the living room and to the stairs. Taking two at a time as you climbed them, Leo's heavier footsteps not far behind.

Taking sharp turns down the maze of endless white hall ways, opening the master bedroom and slamming it closed behind you. Using you body as weight while trying to secure the lock, Leo throwing his into the door. Screaming and cursing from behind the secure door, you began stepping back from the door. Watching as it shook from his impact, a loud shot ringing out. You barely missed the bullet as it prentrated through the door. A thump followed by blood seeped from under, you found yourself gasps for air. Running to the attached bathroom just in time to empty your stomach into the bathtub, crumpling to the floor. You couldn't stop the trembling as it wrecked your body. The hicupping and head pounding, everything was too much.

You were too busy spiraling too notice and a shadow emerge from the closet, closing in on your fast. The butt of a rifle connection to the back of your head, sending you into the abyss.

You woke sometime later, face down and drooling. Your hands were tied at your back, your ankles fastened together. You could hear your name being called as you came in and out of consciousness. Finally getting you eyes to focus on the to your left, Sergi, his face was beaten and bloody. But he was alive, your tried to reach out to him but couldn't. "Shh, shh, it's ok." he whispered out. "What the fuck." you croaked back. "Quiet, they are close." he hissed to you. Turning silent as the masked assailants entered what you assumed was the dining room. Sergi turned from you, eyes straight ahead as blood soaked boots came to stop in front of him.

"Up!" a thick German voice yelled, you and Sergi were yanked up into your knees. You eyes followed the boots all the way up passed two massive thighs followed by a wide torso and shoulders. A hooded head rested upon them, it's stormy blue eyes piercing down at you. You couldn't help the gaps that left your mouth, it was followed by a laugh from the giant. His eyes trailing up and down your body, you could feel a breeze brush past your ass, looking down to find the bottom of your dress pushed up to your waist, exposed to the prying eyes of the people around you.

The giant tore his eyes from you and focused them on your boyfriend Sergi. "Tell where the coordinates and I'll let her live." you turned to Sergi, watching as the command bounced around his head. He didn't look at you, didn't even acknowledge you were there. Instead he spit at the man in front, cursing him to hell. The man who your assumed was the leader stuck out his leg, connecting his boot with Sergi's jaw. His head snapping back as blood splattered across your face.

You jumped back from the impact, the trembling starting up again. You tried not to panic, but you could feel your lungs locking up, refusing to cooperate. Bile rose in your throat, burning a path up and out. Releasing it all to the right of you, doubling over in pain. All you could hear is your own vomiting and laughter.

"I'll let you watch as I take my time with her." the words weren't directed at you but to the bleeding man howling in pain next to you. The German was knelt down in front of your boyfriend, holding his head by the hair. "Don't worry, I'll put you out before we finish her." the English was broken but you got the message. Your body was racked by sobs and pleas, you didn't know what you were saying. You couldn't look at Sergi's face, knowing he never truly cared about you beyond your body and face.

"Shhhhhh." the giant was now on you, grabbing your chin in his grip and facing you towards him. The hood over his face making him look much more menacing. "We'll have our fun." he taunted as he dragged his knife down the side of your face towards your chest. You could feel the blade slide across your chest, and down the center of your breasts as it tore open your dress.

The hooded monster removed the blade and tucked it into his belt. Grabbing you by the throat as he easily maneuvered you to the dining table, tossing you belly first onto the wood. Taking a hold of your bound arms, you felt the restraints around your ankles come undone, the thick thighs of your captors edging itself between your thighs. You felt his gloved hands grip the flesh of your ass, pulling your cheeks apart and finishing with a hard slap.

"You better be watching. Won't recognize this oreety face when I'm done." he was taunting your boyfriend. Grinding his hips into your ass, pushing his hard bulging crotch into you. Making you squirm and gasp, closing you eyes hard. Trying to make everything stop and disappear. "What a hot body." the giant said all to quietly as he ripped the dress from your body. Tossing the shredded material to the side, leaving you in only your risqué panties. You could hear him hmm in approval behind you, his hands running up and down your back as the dug into your hips, gripping your panties as he slid them down your legs.

"I'll tell you!" Sergi's voice screamed from behind, making the German stop in his tracks. "So now you play." the giant teased once again grabbing your ass cheeks and spreading them. You could feel the cool air kiss your lips as he spread you open, you tried clenching you thighs but was stopped by a hard stinging slap to your ass. And suddenly the instrusion was gone, leaving you bare, cold and vulnerable bent over the table.

"I'm waiting." the heavy accent barked, making you flinch, you didn't dare to move. You could hear Sergi mumble some numbers off before the room became overwhelmingly silent. "See, that wasn't hard." the German mocked. His hard body once again pressed against your, grabbed a fist full of your hair, yanking you around so you faced your boyfriend. Another masked figure stood behind him, gun to his head. You clamped your eyes closed just in time as the gun went off and your boyfriends brains hit you.

A violent so left your body as you heard his hit the floor. A slap echoed across your face, "What a shame." the massive German said from beside you, "It was a beautiful site. But not beautiful like you." he sneered. Realization sunk into your belly, this giant was gonna rape you and probably kill you now. He shoved your body forward and towards the living room. Pushing you belly first onto the bloodied sofa, only stopped to kick a body onto the ground.

"Clean up!"he commanded, footsteps retreating, leaving you alone with him." I'll make you enjoy." he whispered behind you, the sound of a belt being undone followed by a zipper. " Please, please!" you sobbed, trying to lossen his grip on the back of your neck that pinned you in place. "Don't worry, you'll be begging on my cock soon." you felt some hot and big press against you entrance. Stretching you out painfully, feeling your pussy tighten even more. You began thrashing even harder now, trying your best to resist.

A warm tongue licked you ear and cheek, "take it" he said, pulling back and spitting at your conjoined bodies. Moving his hips in and out as the wetness began coating you. After a moment his hips snpped forward, knocking the air from your lungs. Your mouth agape in a silent scream, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He used your bound hands and neck as leverage as he pounder into you. All you could do was take it, whimpering and crying now and then.

He left you go, dropping face first into the stained leather, a rough gloved hand pushing into way to your pussy, finding you clit and grinding against it harshly. Making you grit through your teeth, the pressure residing as he lazily circled your now throbbing clit. You tried to fight the building sensation making its way to your core. You tried thinking of your dead boyfriend in the next room but nothing could stop the violent orgasm that ripped through your body. Making your choke on your spit as it drooled out of your mouth.

Your pussy clenched tightly around him, making his movements flatter as he chased his own high. Burying the head of his cock roughly against your sore crevix, releasing deep into you. His own loud moans finally quieting has his hips ceased to move. You could feel him catching his breath, the orgasm knocking the wind out of him. Seconds later his cock left your aching pussy, stuffing himself back into his pants.

He left you there as he grabbed a discarded throw blanket from a chair in the room. Pulling you up gently and wrapping it around your spent body. "Now that wasn't bad." he cooed, rubbing a hand up and down your hair. "Went just as planned didn't it?" he was fishing for a compliment that you gladly gave him. "Of course my King." your mouthed over his lips obscured by the hood.

[buckyskorpion]

11 hours - part five

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: alright things escalated VERY QUICKLY but shit had to go down sometime. i hope you enjoy! and sorry for the delay, i really been goin thru it recently. this part is 7k to make up for it lmao i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist | my ko-fi

masterlist

It’s a big day. You had held Bucky’s hand as you stood in the doorway to his apartment, playing with his rings so you didn’t have to meet his eyes. You were nervous, not because you didn’t trust Bucky but because with every secret spilled you felt like a layer of your skin was being peeled away. But you’d held his hand and told him to pick you up tonight from your office. You handed him your business card, a physical embodiment of trust you hadn’t given to anyone else. It wasn’t your apartment address, sure, but it was something and Bucky held the card with the biggest, boyish grin on his face that melted your heart.

The real reason you’re so nervous is because if whoever followed you from Bucky’s apartment is following Bucky, then they’ll follow him right to your office door. You’d had a long talk to yourself in the bathroom mirror the other night, however, and decided you weren’t going to let a hypothetical stalker ruin yet another relationship for you. Not that stalkers are common in your life, but using any excuse to distance yourself and cut people out is most definitely your regular MO. Not this time.

That being said, stalkers aren’t common in your life so you are, understandably, fixated by it. You are sure it has something to do with Bucky because you don’t believe in coincidences and the guy literally followed you from Bucky’s apartment. The big question is, was the stalker after Bucky or were they after you? Since you have next to nothing to go on, you aren’t exactly on your way to answering that one yet. But you’ll get there, eventually, and you’ve got some ideas.

In the meantime, you wait for Bucky and attempt to tidy your organised mess. He’s meant to show up at seven on his bike, but seven is going on eight and he’s yet to show. You try not to picture the worst or convince yourself you’re being stood up, even though that’s what it feels like. The one time you give out personal details and he doesn’t show. That would be your luck. You kick a filing drawer closed a bit too harshly, the metal clanging loud in your deafeningly silent office. Whatever. It’s not like anyone is left in the building to judge you because Bucky is over an hour late and every other office in the place is long empty.

You water your desperately dry indoor plants, even the one on top of your bookshelf - a testament to how hard you’re trying to distract yourself from the imminent heartbreak. You stand on tiptoes on your swivel chair to reach the crispy fern, something your dad would yell at you for if he could see you, but he can’t so you just pray the wheels don’t slip out from under you. It’s a very precarious precision for you to be in when someone bangs your office door open and stumbles inside, that’s for sure. You nearly break your entire body falling from the chair, but catch yourself on the bookcase before any real damage can be done.

The invader slams the door shut behind them, making you flinch once again as you spin around to face your would-be attacker. Only it's not someone breaking and entering - it’s Bucky, panting heavily and bleeding from his temple while he turns slowly on his heel and assesses every corner of your tiny office for threats.

“Bucky?” you call out, hesitant to approach and startle him incase it’s not your office that he’s seeing. His dog tags hang out the neck of his t-shirt when they’re usually always carefully tucked under the fabric, and you notice now he’s not just bleeding from his head but somewhere under that shirt as well. He looks over at your voice and it takes a second for him to focus properly on you, shoulders visibly slumping, closing the space in three quick strides.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, pulling you bodily into a crushing hug. You wrap your arms around his waist, carefully holding him in case he’s got even more injuries you can’t see, but he squeezes you so tight you find it hard to breathe. He has one arm around your shoulders, that hand tangled in your hair and he presses your head into his shoulder. You feel him nose into the hair at the crown of your head, breathe in deep, let it out in shudders.

“You’re hurt,” you say into his t-shirt, and he shakes his head while still pressing his face into your scalp.

“M’fine, s’just blood,” he mumbles, barely coherent, so you let it go for the moment. You let him hold you and you hug him back, splaying your palms flat against his back and pressing him impossibly closer to you.

Eventually, you peel yourself from him in order to give him a once over. He smiles down at you like he’s amused, but you hardly find the situation funny when Bucky’s blood is literally all over you, now. You take his hand and make him sit on your swivel chair, spinning uselessly in the middle of the room from where it slid out from under you and rolled away. There’s a first aid kit in a box near the window, because you can never be too careful, and you take to soaking gauze in alcohol solution instead of speaking. You don’t trust what would come out of your mouth right now, anyway.

Luckily, Bucky fills the silence for you. He bites his lip as he looks over at you, taking in the tense set of your shoulders and jerky movements as you dig around for bandages. Then he says, “I got caught up, I really am sorry.”

You nod, but you still don’t speak. Instead you grab your supplies and move over to Bucky, avoiding his eyes as you assess the one wound you can see. Bucky has a thin cut from the corner of his eye to his hairline, shallow but bleeding profusely due to the thin skin there. You suck in a deep breath and start dabbing the soaked gauze on the wound, outside to inside, watching as the white turns coppery red with every swipe. Your stomach twists at the sight, and to your horror, you find you could almost cry.

“Doll,” Bucky says, eyebrows creasing up as if he’s just as upset as you feel. He hooks one big hand around your thigh, tugging until you let him manhandle you onto his lap. “I mean it, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

“I don’t care that you were late,” you snap, clenching your jaw until you can get your flash of frustration under control. You drop your hand from his face, curling up further onto Bucky’s lap despite yourself as his arms come round to hug you to his chest. His bloodstained, most likely injured chest. You take a deep breath and ask, “What happened?”

“You wanna know?” Bucky asks. When you finally meet his eyes he doesn’t seem to be shutting down, shutting you out like you expect when it comes to talking about Bucky’s biker lifestyle. He just looks sad, and you let yourself soften just a bit to run your fingers down his jaw.

Bucky’s eyes flutter closed when you touch him, and you say, “I already told you - I just wanna know. No secrets.”

“No secrets,” Bucky affirms, smiling as he opens his eyes again. The corners are tight, though, as he starts to explain. “One of the things we do - the gang, y’know - is run protection details. Me and Sam were on it, supposed to be a simple job, but we got shitty intel and ended up having to fight our way out of a crappy spot. We got out, finished the job, but it definitely didn’t go to plan. ”

“Protection for what?” you ask. This is the most open Bucky has ever been when talking about his gang, so you’re not going to pass up this opportunity for a bit more information.

“For who,” Bucky corrects, smiling at you like he knows what you’re doing. He starts stroking up and down your shoulder blades as he talks, soothing the both of you it seems. “Rich businessmen, low-level politicians, mob affiliates - anyone who’s got a target on their back and need to get from point A to point B. They’re easy jobs for us ex-army guys and they pay well.”

“Better pay than fixing cars, I bet,” you say. Your attempt at levity works and Bucky grins. The way it makes his face turn young and open is so at odds with the trickle of blood down his cheek.

“Gotta be able to pay for your drinks somehow,” he says, and you slap his shoulder. He mock-winces and says, “Hey! I’m bleeding, ya gotta be nice to me.”

“Don’t gotta do shit,” you mumble, reminding you to press the gauze you’re still holding back on the wound on his temple to stem some of the bleeding. He hisses for real this time, the sting of the alcohol probably burning a bit, especially so close to his eye. You press a kiss to his cheek and in apology and Bucky hums, tightening his grip around your body to hold you close again.

“M’sorry I ruined our night,” he says, “I wish I could promise it won’t happen again, but I can’t.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you say, and he meets your eyes, slightly confused. You smile and say, “Not when you’re hurt. I know what I signed up for, I just want you to be ok.”

“What if, one day, I’m not ok?” Bucky asks, serious now, and you take your time before you answer him. His cut is clean of dried blood, and it’s stopped oozing any more. You doubt it’ll get infected so you should bandage it up but you can’t make yourself move from Bucky’s lap. Not just yet.

“I’ll fix you up,” you say. “That’s what we’re doing, right? Taking care of each other.”

Bucky blinks, once, as if allowing your words to download in his brain like a data file. Then he kisses you. He slides a hand up to cradle your head and presses soft, slow kisses to your lips like he’s got all the time in the world. He came storming in like a hurricane but now you’re in the eye, calm and quiet settling over you both as you cup his jaw and kiss into him all the tenderness you're too afraid to say. You mend his bleeding head and adrenaline-addled heart while he soothes your fear. Taking care of each other, and it feels nice to let someone else do that for once.

You know what Bucky is leaving out. The I hurt people admission, the fact he might have killed someone tonight, that the blood on his shirt isn’t just his. You really thought you’d care more - about the not knowing, about the truth of it, about everything. But he’s breathing and alive underneath you, trailing kisses and stubble burn from your mouth to your cheek to your temple, and all of those superfluous details become white noise. You’re surprised to find the simple fact that Bucky is alright is enough to supersede all the gaps you would usually itch to fill.

Bucky spins you both, tucking your legs up closer so you don’t overbalance as he looks around your office in a dizzying circle. A spike of nerves makes you feel sick for a second but Bucky smiles as he looks around, like he’s pleased with this part of your life he’s been able to see, and it makes you feel less afraid.

“This is where the magic happens, huh?” he asks, and you laugh at his teasing. “It’s very normal.”

“What did you expect? Like ‘Sherlock Holmes’ or something?” you ask. Bucky shrugs, mouth twitching like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Maybe,” he says, then squints at you like he’s considering something. “So, no violin?”

“No violin, and no Mrs Hudson. I make my own tea,” you say, grinning up at Bucky even though he’s being stupid.

“Yeah, right,” Bucky snorts, “Pour your own wine, you mean.”

“Are you calling me a drunk?” you gasp, reeling back from Bucky and almost sending yourself off his lap and onto the floor. Bucky grips you tighter, laughing at the offence written all over your face, and then extracts an arm to point meaningfully at the half empty bottle of red by the side of your desk.

“The evidence speaks for itself,” he says. You fold your arms in a huff, if only to have him kiss the top of your head in a silent apology.

“You stick to the gang stuff, I’ll stick to the investigating,” you huff, and Bucky kisses you again until you wipe the frown from your face.

“Alright, smart girl,” he says. He stands, holding you up like it’s nothing and you can’t deny how hot that is, even if he is being condescending to you right now. He sets you down on your feet and smooths out your jacket, the warmth of his hands seeping through the leather as they pass over your shoulders and down your arms. He links his fingers into one of your hands, smiling down at you, and says, “Can we rain check dinner? I think I need a shower.”

Bucky stands unnaturally close to you as you lock up your office and head out, scanning the street while you lock the back door and set the alarm system for the building. He takes your hand wordlessly and leads you to his bike, parked haphazardly on the sidewalk and just begging for a ticket. He hands you a helmet but is looking over your shoulder, not at you, and both of those things are worrying - you’ve never known Bucky to wear a helmet, let alone offer you one. You didn’t know he owned one. You feel fidgety, your skin crawling like you’re being watched, and Bucky must feel it too because he’s a bit rough in manhandling you onto the bike as quickly as possible.

“Bucky,” you say, and he twists around to give you a clinical once over - much like you’d done to him when he’d come to you bloody and breathless. You feel sick to your stomach, guilt and fear twisting in your gut, as you ask, “Do you think someone followed you here?”

Bucky’s face is impassive, but you’d like to think you know him well enough to read the tick by the corner of his eyes as a silent, muttered, shit. He licks his lips and says, “I can’t know the answer to that for sure.”

“But there’s a chance,” you say, and your heart is hammering so loud you barely hear your own voice. If someone finds your office then they find you, and the carefully constructed bubble of anonymity you’ve created is shattered in the space of a second. But you knew that, that’s what Bucky asked you on his couch - will you stay? Knowing Bucky is the antithesis of your comfort zone, will you stay anyway?

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” Bucky says definitively. You scan his eyes for trace of a lie but there is none. Bucky’s jaw is set, and he reaches up to grip your chin and hold your gaze on his, making sure you hear him. “Just like you said - we take care of each other. I’ll always take care of you.”

You let out a shaky breath, one you hadn’t known you’d been holding, and Bucky kisses the trill of fear away. You feel like you’ve dived off a cliff face, Bucky holding your hand all the way down the precipice of trust you’d promised yourself you’d never cross. But Bucky promises he’ll take care of you and god, it’s stupid but you want him to. You want his to be the arms you land in at the end of this free-fall. Even if, given who Bucky is, that’s the most dangerous place to be.

“Speaking of no secrets,” you say, more of mumble into his mouth than anything. Bucky pulls away, adorably puppy-like look of confusion on his face, and your stomach twists with guilt. “Remember the night of the party? At Sam’s bar?”

Bucky nods. He’s twisted uncomfortably on the seat of his bike and the helmet you’ve yet to put on is digging in o your stomach where you’re holding it. This isn’t the best place to be having this conversation but Bucky’s promise has made you brave, and if you don’t go against your own word now you never will. Not once have you ever spilled details of a case before you’d cracked it. This isn’t a case, you have to remind yourself. This is your life.

“That morning, when I left,” you say, omitting the fact it’s the first time you ever used his front door and will most certainly be the last, “someone followed me from your building. I shook them off, but they were waiting for me to leave and I don’t know if they were casing your apartment or if they were there for me, or what. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you, I just-“

“You just what?” Bucky doesn’t sound angry. Worse, he sounds cold. Shut down, clinical, and the way his face has pinched off makes your heart break.

“I didn’t know if I could trust you,” you say, looking down at your lap to avoid the way he’s looking at you like a stranger. Saying it out loud makes it sound so much worse, but it’s the truth and Bucky deserves that at least. “To be honest, I’m still not sure. But I want to. If I’m going to trust anyone, I want it to be you.”

It’s several moments before you’re brave enough to meet Bucky’s eyes again. He is coming back to you slowly, the shutters pulling up from his eyes as confusion seeps out. He scans your face and says, “Usually I would tell you that’s a really stupid idea, but I think you already know that.”

“Stupid ideas are kind of my thing,” you say, and that makes Bucky smile. Relief is bone deep, hits so hard you could slump from the bike in a pile of goo. He’s not mad. In fact, he leans forward in what must be a truly uncomfortable twist to press his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, breathes in deep. You follow suit, so ridiculously relieved you still get to do this while simultaneously trying to control the adrenaline rush from handing over what feels like you’re entire life to someone else.

All your life it feels like it’s always been you versus the world. Your dad raised you that way, to rely on no one but yourself so you can never be let down, not even him. It feels wrong on a cellular level to trust Bucky like you are so blindly doing. Every instinct screams at you to run, to figure this out on your own, that Bucky would normally be one of your main suspects in a regular case. But here you are, showing Bucky all your cards, hoping against hope that you won’t live to regret it.

“No more secrets,” Bucky says, and you nod. You feel his eyelashes tangle with yours as you move, pressed so close like this, and you open your eyes to stare at the veiny lids covering his. “Next time someone follows you, you tell me.”

“Yes sir,” you say, grinning at the warning pinch he gives to your hip.

“Let’s go to the shop,” Bucky says, pulling away from you and turning back to gun his bike to life. “The guys can help us figure this stalker shit out.”

“The guys?” you ask, and your chest does something painfully restrictive at the thought of letting more people in. “As in, everyone? Like, your gang?”

Bucky laughs, like the way you say ‘gang’ is so goddamn amusing, and throws you one last look over his shoulder. You tug the helmet on as he revs the bike, suddenly regretting every other time you’ve gotten on this thing without one, as Bucky says, “Yeah, doll, my gang. That’s kinda the whole point - we help each other out.”

You hadn’t really thought of it like that before. Truthfully, your mind had been filled with shady drug deals and bloody fights, turf wars and tattoos and angry men on bikes. Bucky’s friends and the nights you’ve spent with them seem like a different world, the joy and love entirely removed from the illegal life Bucky leads outside of your reach, but you have to remind yourself - they’re one and the same. Your Bucky cannot be removed from the biker you’ve been kept seperate from.

Clinging to Bucky’s waist, you say, “Sounds very after school special for a gang, tough guy.”

You can practically see Bucky grinning just by looking at the back of his head as takes off, the streets of Brooklyn peeling away as heads for White Wolf Mechanics. Your anxiety and fear sheds off as well, floating away in strips down the tarmac like an outer layer of skin. You feel vulnerable, all new and exposed as you hold Bucky close so you don’t fall. That’s what makes it feel bearable - Bucky’s back against your cheek, the hand he places over yours against his stomach when you pull up at a red light. His promise, echoing under the rumble of the bike beneath you. I’ll always take care of you.

~~~

The shop looks closed from the outside, but you can hear a low bass-line from the street and people laughing somewhere inside. Bucky brings you round the back, the roller doors out front closed this time, and into the back rooms you’d yet to see since that first visit a few weeks ago. To your left you see what must be Bucky’s office, but the room he tugs you to looks more like a bachelor pad living room than a mechanics break room.

Sam and Steve lay sprawled on leather couches, beers open on the coffee table made of old crates stacked together. The Killers pumps through a very, very nice sound system which Natasha is quietly singing along to where she lays on top of the pool table, legs kicking off the edge to the beat. Her beer rests on her stomach, rising and falling with every breath, and she doesn’t even raise her head as she waves at the two of you entering. Sam lifts the icepack from his eye to look at you, grinning wide, and kicks Steve in the shin to get his attention.

“Barnes is back,” he says, rolling his eyes as Steve blearily blinks awake from what was clearly an unplanned nap. Steve focuses on you and Bucky, eyebrows drawn down in confusion, and Sam adds, “and he’s brought his girl.”

“Shouldn’t you be at dinner or something?” Steve asks, then seems to remember himself and smiles all big and perfect at you. “It’s great to see you again, by the way.”

“Quit brown-nosing, it’s embarrassing,” Sam says, and throws his icepack at Steve’s head. He swats it away, squawking at the wetness it leaves behind on his hand and cheek, which makes Sam grin.

“I need a beer for this,” Bucky mutters so only you can hear, which makes you smile. You lead the way to the minibar in the corner, right by the bookshelf full of video games and the cardboard cut-out of Guy Fieri (you don’t want to ask). Bucky follows, grabbing your hand and tugging you back into his chest as you walk - even without the watchful eyes of the other gang affiliates which usually follow you at his parties, Bucky seems hell bent on making sure everyone knows who you’re here with. Even his closest friends.

You can’t say you entirely mind.

“So, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Natasha asks. She’s sat up now, twisting on the pool table to face you both as Bucky grabs you some beers. Sam and Steve still continue to argue about nonsense on the couches and are ignored by the three of you for the moment. However, they stop bickering as soon as Bucky speaks again.

“Someone’s been watching my building,” he says. The silence is thick, and you feel almost guilty for ruining their fun night with your stalker woes. Bucky hands you a beer and looks at you pointedly, eyebrows raised. You take a sip before you follow his not-so-subtle direction to start talking.

“I was followed home the morning after Sam’s party at the bar,” you say. You have the full attention of Bucky’s closest friends, and you can’t help but feel a little intimidated. You take a deep breath and decide to look at the situation like you were debriefing a client on a case - remove yourself from the equation. “There was a man smoking against the building next to Bucky’s. He followed me about four blocks before I lost him. He was over six foot, caucasian, brown hair and stubble.”

“Sounds like every white guy,” Sam says. “You could be describing Bucky, for all we know.”

“Yes,” you say, frowning. “If I was putting a tail on someone, I would make them very nondescript. Makes sense, right?”

“And you’re sure he was following you?” Natasha asks. You glance at her, but she doesn’t look like she’s condescending you or anything. Surprisingly, she looks like she believes you far more than the other two men in the room. Maybe your trial by fire proved to her you know what you’re talking about, so you nod.

“Definitely. Either he knew I was there and was waiting for me to leave, or he was watching Bucky’s apartment and would have followed anyone who came out of it. Without more information I can’t be sure if he was there for me or Bucky.”

“You’ve never seem him before?” Steve asks. You shake your head, and he says, “Could you describe him a bit more detailed? I might be able to draw him.”

“Sure,” you shrug. “Or, we can just wait until he shows up at Bucky’s again and follow him.”

Bucky does not like that idea at all. He practically growls, grabbing your elbow and turning you to face him as he glares at you. Roughly, he says, “Are you fucking insane?”

“What?” Mildly annoyed, you tug your arm from Bucky’s grip and say, “If this was a case, that’s what I would do.”

“This isn’t a case. This guy is going to be a hell of a lot more dangerous than some rich businessman cheating on his wife,” Bucky says, voice raised to an almost shout in one of the quickest escalations you’ve ever seen.

A switch flips in your brain, and you see red.

“Thank you for the condescending analysis, Bucky,” you snap. You ignore Sam’s muttered ‘oh shit!’ for your own health and sanity. “But you have no idea the kind of people I’ve dealt with in my life. I can manage a fairly mediocre stalker.”

“A fairly mediocre stalker who works for someone who won’t hesitate to use your hamstrings as handcuffs,” Bucky hisses. He steps towards you, chest brushing yours as he breaths deep and ragged, and oh- there’s the Bucky you’d been missing. The guy who’s still wearing clothes stained with blood, most of it not his, angry in an incandescent kind of way which reminds you he could hurt you in many more ways than just a broken heart. He leans down to say into your face, “This isn’t something you fuck around with, alright? There’s a reason why I’ve kept this world from you.”

“I thought we said no secrets?” you say, raising your eyebrows. You will yourself to hold your ground, even if you are shaking like a leaf and your words come out soft in the face of his anger. Like you’d poked a pin in his chest, Bucky deflates. He backs off of you, face crumbling from anger to guilt as quickly as he built himself up there.

“I won’t let you get hurt because of me,” he says, shaking his head. The switch in your brain flips back, all indignation and pride fading away. He’s still trying to take care of you, just like he promised. Already it’s abundantly clear you’re not going to make that easy for him, and you wonder how long it will take until he gets sick of trying.

“This isn’t going to work if you don’t trust me,” you say, gesturing between you. “I let you into my world, now it’s your turn. I know it’s dangerous - I could have left, remember? But I’m here. So let me be here.”

“If someone touches you-“

“I’ll get over it,” you say. Bucky stares at you like you’re crazy, and maybe you are, but it’s true. “You said you were going to take care of me - how’re you gonna do that from all the way over there?”

You don’t mean the other side of the room, the valley of the pool table and the metaphorical arms-length which which he’s keeping between you. There’s only so much Bucky can hide from you before you either dive right in or walk away. This is the turning point.

“Fine,” he says. He looks physically pained as he scrubs a hand over his cropped hair, but at least he’s not angry anymore. “I still think thats a fucking stupid idea.”

“Like I said,” you say, offering him a smile he shakily returns, “stupid ideas are kind of my thing.”

“Uh, can I say something?” Sam asks, breaking the illusion that it was only the two of you in the room for that particular argument. You both turn to look at him, and he almost backs down with the weight of both your gaze. He carries on, however, saying, “I’m glad you guys have had this breakthrough in your relationship, but that doesn’t really help us in figuring out who this guy is. Or who he works for. Or why he followed you. Or how he knows where Bucky lives in the first place.”

“We could go around and ask,” Steve says, shrugging at Natasha’s eyeroll. “What? Baseball bats really jog people’s memories.”

“Why don’t we ask the private investigator for some expert advice,” Natasha says, giving you a look that seems to say men, right? You’re still trying to get your head around the image of Steve threatening someone with a baseball bat when you’ve seen him with his own puke on his jumper singing Sweet Caroline into a toilet bowl.

“Well,” you begin, darting Bucky a look but he seems to be listening and not getting ready to yell at you again, “since apparently following the guy is off the table for now, I would start with me and Bucky. Enemies, bad blood, someone with an axe to grind. Pull at some threads and see what happens.”

“That shouldn’t be hard,” Sam says, “Bucky’s got more enemies than friends.”

“So do we all, punk,” Bucky grumbles, glaring at Sam. “We’re in a gang.”

“This ain’t about me.” Sam holds his hands up in mock innocence, grinning big like he gets unrivalled joy from making Bucky’s face do the twitchy, dark thing it’s doing right now. The impact is somewhat lessened by the swollen, black eye Sam’s sporting from the mission gone wrong today, you assume, but it doesn’t curb his enthusiasm.

“I can put together a list of the most recent run-in’s you’ve had by tomorrow,” Natasha says to Bucky, ignoring the bickering with practiced ease. “Until then, we should put some protection on your building.”

“You guys have bodyguards?” you ask before your brain can tell you that’s a dumb fucking question. All three of them laugh, Bucky hooking an arm around your shoulder to ruffle your hair as he tugs you into his side. Point taken, you think as you pout under Bucky’s arm.

“I’ll stay in the spare room,” Steve says, swinging himself off the couch to his full, ginormous height. That image of him with the baseball bat starts to take a bit more shape in your mind, and you don’t doubt for a second he could offer some extra protection where the stalker is concerned. To you, he asks, “You don’t mind if I third wheel?”

“It’s not my apartment,” you say, attempting to hide your blush under the weight of Bucky’s arm. You are unsuccessful, if Sam’s smirk is anything to go by.

“We’ll survive one night, punk,” Bucky says, giving you a squeeze. “Or just buy some earplugs.”

“Gross!” Sam cries, flailing an arm around. “Too much information!”

You have a feeling akin to whiplash at how well these people are taking a stalker and potential threat on their lives. Joking around, Steve fake-moaning just to make Sam scream, Natasha laughing until tears form in her eyes at the antics of two grown men chasing each other around the couches like school children. Glancing up at Bucky and the warm look he’s giving them all, you suppose it must be lot less scary to face something like that with friends. Family, you think, as Sam crash-tackles Steve into the couch and smothers his face with a pillow.

“You’ll be alright?” Natasha’s soft voice manages to scare you, jolting under Bucky’s hold as you turn from watching Steve and Sam to find her right by Bucky’s other side. She’s looking up at him, lips pressed into a firm line, and you remember the last time you were here - James is the only family I have. Maybe some are taking this development a bit easier than others.

“Always am,” Bucky says, using his free arm to punch her lightly on the shoulder. She gets him back, much harder, and you feel Bucky wince away from her and into your side. “Serious, Natashenka. I’ll be fine.”

“Good,” she says. Smirking, she adds, “I’ll kill you if you aren’t.”

You look back to Steve and Sam before they can notice you eavesdropping, a hot, honey-thick feeling melting through your skin. You want to know what that feels like in a way which burns; to have people who have your back like that, and your dad doesn’t count because he literally has to. You understood Bucky’s gang even less than you originally thought - he’s not just a biker, a criminal, a hit man or an ex-army vet turned enforcer, whatever the case may be. He’s a guy doing what he has to do to protect the people he loves, because he’s surrounded by them. You’ve never had to protect anyone but yourself.

You tuck yourself closer into Bucky’s side, letting the warmth and smell of him consume you. That’s gonna change, you think. This feeling in your chest is telling you that change is already happening.

~~~

Steve does not have to get ear plugs to survive the night, and you make both him and Bucky coffee before you head off. Shower, new clothes, work - all that normal people stuff you have to do. Steve, golden in the morning sun with the brightest smile on his face, and Bucky’s moody scowl at the early hour and dark rings under his eyes, wave you goodbye. You kiss Bucky’s pout before you go, letting him grab your ass for a second before you slip away.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he says, and Steve snorts like there’s some joke you’re missing.

“I’ll go out the laundry window,” you say, as if this is a new development and not your usual routine. “Nobody’s gonna follow me, promise.”

“Hmph,” is all Bucky says and then you’re really gone, racing down the stairs and out the window like you always do.

Sorry Bucky, you silently think towards his apartment as instead of making to cut through the gym parking lot, you wrap back around his building and scan the street from behind the bins. Sure enough, opposite Bucky’s building with a baseball cap on and another cigarette, stands the same dude who followed you the first time. You really weren’t lying - stupid ideas are kind of your thing.

You make sure you’re hidden by a group of pedestrians as you slip out the side alley of Bucky’s apartment building and walk away from your stalker. He doesn’t notice, and you manage to walk a block and cross the road without him any the wiser. Your roles have switched as you hang out at the news-agency a few doors down from where he’s waiting, pretending to flick through a magazine. It’s easy to take a few picture of him over the top of the page with your phone, grainy but useable for when you show Bucky later.

You can deal with Bucky being angry at you, because you know how to do your job and this is the most efficient way to get intel. It’s always easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Eventually, you watch your stalker watch Bucky and Steve leave his building. It’s 9AM and they head to their respective bikes, revving off down the street in the general direction of Steve’s tattoo shop. Your man hunches his shoulders and pulls out his phone, taps into it for a bit, before he walks off in the opposite direction to Bucky and Steve. Not following them, then. Your stomach twists as you fall into pace a few people behind him. Just following you.

He gets on the subway, which makes  it very difficult for you to remain unnoticed but you manage to sit at the internal doors in the next carriage and watch him through those. He gets on his phone again, talking to someone with evident frustration if his clenched jaw and balled fist is anything to go by. He gets off in Manhattan, walks a few blocks, before ducking into a darkly lit bar called the Lerna. You decide it’s probably best not to follow him there, but you snap a few photos on your phone of the bar before doubling back out to Brooklyn.

You call Bucky as you go, a bit jittery at the incoming argument you know you’ve created, but you can’t help but feel it will be worth it. Now you have something to actually go off - a face, a name, some concrete facts. Much better than stabbing around in the dark. A few rings go by before Bucky picks up, saying, “Miss me already?”

“Get over yourself, tough guy,” you say, but you’re smiling. Maybe you do miss him already, just a bit. You were so focused on getting your information you didn’t get to fully savour Bucky this morning, all tanned muscles and tattoos, all yours. You force yourself to ruin the moment by saying, “I’ve got some information for you.”

“Me too,” he says, which surprises you. “Nat’s gotten together some potential candidates for your stalker. Have you got time to come to Steve’s tattoo place?”

“Sure,” you say, beginning to pick at your nails as the nerves set in.

There’s a beat of silence before Bucky must realise what you’d said before, and he doesn’t sound nearly as light and playful anymore “You said you had information? On what?”

“I’ll just show you when I get there,” you rush out, closing your eyes at the way Bucky sucks in a breath like he already knows what you’ve done. “Don’t be mad.”

“Oh, I’m not mad,” he says, as if through gritted teeth. “I’m fucking livid. Please tell me you didn’t follow that guy this morning.”

“Ok, I won’t tell you,” you say. “See you in twenty.”

“You’re dead meat,” he says before you hang up.

It could’ve gone worse, you muse as you round the corner to the subway station. Sure, Bucky threatened you with lethal violence and sounded even angrier than he’d gotten at the shop yesterday, but you can still imagine him smiling at his phone as you hung up the same way you’re smiling at yours now.

You text him the photos with a quick, Don’t say I never do anything for you xx

A minute after the photos deliver, Bucky is calling you again. You frown down at his caller ID, confused - you were on your way, why is he calling you back already? But before you answer that question, someone grabs your arm and tugs you away from the subway steps and into an alley instead. His grip is bruising, unbreakable, even as you scream and kick before he shoves a gun into your neck and you fall deathly silent.

“Scream and you’re dead,” the man says, hot on your ear. You can’t shudder away, his vice grip too tight and the cold steel on your jugular paralysing. You twist a bit to look behind you despite yourself, your stomach bottoming out at the familiar face which grins back at you. Baseball cap, brown hair, stubble - just like any other white guy. He sneers at you and says, “Not so clever now, huh?”

All you can hear, as your stalker marches you down the alley and into a waiting SUV with a gun to your back, is Bucky’s voice yelling this isn’t something you fuck around with. You’d let him say ‘I told you’ so a thousand times if it meant you got out of this alive. Hopefully, the phone tucked into your back pocket will be enough to save you. You hope Bucky is listening, the call you just managed to answer still catching the grunted conversation your kidnappers are having. You’ve never needed someone before, but god, do you hope Bucky’s got you now.  

Part 6

[numbaoneflaya]

Can I get a list of all ur ocs?

Well anon youve done it, you made me make a list of all my major OCS in one place. I hope your happy with yourself. Under the cut for obvious reasons, may link in my blog desc later.

Modern/BTD verse!!

Jilly- Ferret beastkin little creature, was recently turned into a werewolf by vincent as well so she's running around on full moons in a wereferret wolf hybrid creature form. Chaotic and friendly and wants to be everyone's bestie. She has the most energy in the world and is very kind hearted. Banned from most Claires for stealing and from one Home Depot for climbing the shelves. Prone to living life with rose colored glasses on and seeing the best in everything/everything even when there's nothing there. Socialization is a must for her and is why being basemented/kidnapped broke her psych so quickly and developed severe stockholm. Sometimes overly talkative/enthusiastic and can scare people off. Even if she sees someone shes decided shes friends with be noticeably 'evil', will convince herself it must be for some reason/her fault and ignore it.

Ciggy- Undead punk still learning to harness his powers to interact with the world as a ghost. Was sacrificed by a cult he joined for free concert tickets and to get laid. Likes to cause problems on purpose both pre and prior death and he's not above possessing someone once he learns how to. Was called Rooster in high school before he dropped out because he's loud, obnoxious and always screaming. And also has bright red dyed hair. Looking 4 ways to become less ghosty bcs he wants to be able to help raise his infant daughter, whom he died before he could meet. Bit annoying and in your face, likes poking at bruises, his or others. Kind of a sad heart seeking attention through volume and persistence.

Mike: Vampire loser! Sells drugs and lives at raves. Was turned when she was attacked by a coked out vampire (whom she supplied the product to) and has major scarring on her face and chest. Needs a somewhat constant influx of blood so shell sometimes take victims back to her place and chain them up, slowly draining them over time. Feels bad (ish) about it tho so it is possible to survive her if you are nice and or interesting enough. Kind of desperate for a friend and for love. Is a stalker. If she likes you enough/finds you interesting, she might just appear in your house one night and start rummaging through your fridge like nothing is wrong and youve been besties for years. Its best to indulge her and be friendly, otherwise she could turn violent quickly if her feelings are hurt.

Kilaine- Regular human woman, but fucked up. Born and raised by an elite waspy society she had an interest in the human body and pain tolerance since she was young. Quickly learned that these traits were socially unacceptable in most professions, so she became a doctor. The only family she cared about was her younger sister who she lost in a car accident, where they were flipped over and trapped inside while it was afire. While her sister burned up in front of her Kilaine only lost her left arm and had major burns on her body. This tipped her descent into sadism and she is now madly obsessed with bringing her sister back no matter the cost. Rude and offstandish, clinical.

Dragon age verse!

Thurwen- My main Hero of Ferelden with a bad temper and a heart of gold. City elf from the Denerim Alienage, 18 at the start of origins. She's a reaver warrior with a lot of pent up rage which sometimes scares others when she lets it out in battle. Over the years she's grown less moody as she's had to take the role of Commander. Crude sense of humor and violent impulses, very sensitive to the plights of others and tries often to help. Never seen crying in public but only cries to herself at night- major martyr and hanged man complex.

Caz- My circle mage elf inquisitor who was an apostate before the conclave. Blood magic, but make it sneaky. Wary of strangers and new faces, always dealing with the impulse to flee/find a high vantage point. Endless curiosity about the unknown/ the forbidden/ naughty, was supposed to be made tranquil for it but she escaped. Kind of a little creature as well, lived on her own for a while as an apostate in the woods, filed her teeth down to sharp ends to make herself look more intimidating (shes 5 ft tall) and less cute (her elf ears are huge and expressive, which shes embarrassed about)

Dag and Thagna- Carta twins! Professional lyrium smugglers since birth pretty much. Raised casteless in dust town and had to work their way up the chain of command by themselves. Dag is the brother, Thagna the sister. Their father traded them to the carta for drinking money and their mom died in childbirth so they have somewhat of a codependent relationship. Both charismatic and calculating, friendly and agreeable but won't hesitate to put a dagger in your back. Hard to pin down morally or physically, squirrelly bastards.

Reila: Dalish elf who works for the inquisition/ is the inquisitor in some aus. She has an extreme fixation on elvhen history and rebuilding what they have lost. Not a people person, prefers solitude. Takes some time to warm up to shemhlen as she has a hard history with them. Good friends with Caz, who recruited her in the first place. Doesn't understand very many social cues and finds societal expectations limiting and frustrating. Fondness for halla and hooved animals, which she finds graceful.

Elder scrolls verse!

Valkya: Near seven foot nord woman whos over a thousand years old by the events of skyrim. Tall and buff, two handed warrior and compulsive hero there to bask in the spotlight save the day. She was killed at the start of the events of Elder scrolls online and had her soul ripped out and sent to coldharbor and she's just been a pain in the ass about it since then. Her body can physically die and will not regrow pieces. Her soul however will escape and teleport to the nearest source of power where her body will regrow from an aetherial plasm until its whole again. Loud and brash, friendly and jovial. Actually pretty keen especially after centuries of life but prefers to play dumb as it makes people underestimate her. Plus, she really does enjoy mud wrestling and drinking contests and acting generally like a rambunctious frat boy. Ha developed a bit of a substance problem and a problem with acting out, as after being alive so long she would turn to anything to dull the ache inside of her that never goes away.

Espira- My Dragonborn! Redguard from Hammerfell who was briefly in the Ash’abah due to killing undead while protecting her parents water farm as a child. Ran away from them after years and went to Cyrodille, then to Skyrim and was caught crossing the border. Reserved, kind and soft spoken, she's a sword and shield warrior who's committed herself to doing good in the world by helping others. Dislikes killing and anything messy but believes it is often necessary in order to protect the weak. She blacksmiths often to save money on the upkeep of her own equipment, and takes up metal jewelry working as a hobby with the excess material. Prone to trusting others too much and giving too many second chances, as shes always looking for ways to make even the most hardened criminal a second look at life.

Riley- Espiras little brother who she locked in the wardrobe during the event of the water farm attack. In preventing him from doing violence against the undead she kept him from being conscripted into the Ash’abah. He's way more chaotic than his sister, and suffers from a case of little sibling syndrome in which he will often pester/poke at people just to get a rise out of them. Still kind hearted as his sister, he tries to hide it because he believes that the world is a cruel place and the cruel survive. Despite that belief he is often still unable to force himself to be cruel/careless, only making a show of it so that others leave him alone and don't see that he's very sensitive and emotional. Deaf in one ear due to a magic mishap in his youth, he trained and enchanted his most beloved rats to live for years and sit on his shoulder, alerting him to noises he would not otherwise notice.

Felria: Evil vamp :/ chaotic evil dunmer necromancer. Small and devilish and likes dead bodies too much. Manipulative and cunning, she loves acting. She's a trained assassin for the dark brotherhood and is the speaker. Likes dressing up for missions and wearing disguises like its all a play. Loves toying with people more than she loves killing them, will act in ways that cause as much trauma as possible for other people just for fun and she finds the reactions interesting. Considers herself too far removed from most people's perception of morality and of her so it's hard for her to trust someone or see them as worthy of knowing her. Finds the psychology of grief and fear to be interesting and wants to study them first hand. The hero of kvatch.

Herren: Fifty something year old rat woman looking for something to keep her going. Ran away from her wealthy family in her youth when they wanted her to take charge of the household, instead became an infamous jewel thief and swashbuckler. Spent most of her life traveling and stealing and double dealing. She's smarmy and sarcastic, a serial romancer of the highest caliber. Bit of a show off and a hedonist, always looking for the next good party or new product to snort. Her family died off due to the hard times she wasn't there for and she keeps looking for bigger and bigger heists to fill her appetite as she's chronically bored and lonely, though wont accept intimacy and will scoff at it out of the belief she doesn't deserve it. Irresponsible and selfish, lonely and terrified of any sort of commitment. Fun to party with though!

[sea-and-storm]

BETTER WITH AGE : Ghoa Mankhad

PROMPT : Describe your muse at ages 20, 40, and 60!

Tagged by @afreesworn, so blame her for this rambly bit of quasi-prose because when I saw this meme, it decided to live stubbornly rent-free in my head until I finally sat down and wrote it out. But it's late and I'm rusty, so excuse the inevitable clunky writing and weird stream-of-consciousness rambling. x:

Also I haven't been on tumblr in a hot minute and I'm probably gonna go on a meme spree here soon so I'll spare people from a tagfest since I have no idea who has or hasn't done these. :T

So uh, if you see this and wanna do it, just.. consider yourself tagged!

-- AGE 20 . . .

At age twenty, Ghoa is only just gaining her first true taste of freedom. It hasn't been long since she left the Steppe behind, fleeing a life of violence and oppression at the mercy of others' cruel whims.

Kugane is still very much a foreign land to her, equal parts terrifying and intoxicating. It is a city whose lifeblood is the trading of koban, unlike the bartering and trading -- and the taking by force -- that is prevalent in the lands she calls -- no, called her home.

Even more awkward to her is the earning of coin; but for that problem, there is an unexpected solution. Her name is Ino, a hyuran native of the land Ghoa now finds herself in. The only things that come more easily to her than her usual cocksure grins are the coins that she seems to have a knack for getting her fingers on. She readily takes the wayward Xaela under her wing, and together they begin to dream of schemes to turn their lives around. Gods know they both deserve it after the difficulties they've both already lived through.

At twenty, Ghoa doesn't yet know that this relationship born of mutual survival will soon grow into something more. Friendship. Companionship. Love. She's even less aware that the same relationship that pulled her up from the darkness of the past will end in yet more tragedy. She's blissfully unaware of the scars that this loss will one day leave behind, an invisible guilt that would linger with her for many, many long years to come no matter how hard she tries to outrun it.

As for the Storm? There have certainly been times in her twenty years that she has felt the itch of electricity arc across her palms, aching to be released. Yet she has kept it pushed deep down, kept tightly under control. Her upbringing has led her to fear the power born to her. Rather than continue to train to control it, she opts instead to push it down, push it away. It rumbles like darkened clouds on a distant horizon, the occasional faint but harmless rumble of thunder carried upon the winds. That rumble begs for her to let it loose, to let the rains and winds and lightning break free around her. Instead, she turns a blind eye, pretending not to hear its pleading as she looks towards what she hopes to be a sunny future.

-- AGE 40 . . .

At age forty, Ghoa has gone through a gamut of changes that she never could have anticipated.

She has loved and lost, and she has blamed herself for it. She's roamed far and wide, half searching for a place that she might call 'home' and half attempting -- without success -- to outrun the ghosts of the past. Her life has turned towards the dark, towards the selling of illicit potions and dangerous poisons and the ever-profitable trade of secrets. She has become a creature of hedonism and selfishness, closing her heart towards those around her and putting her own needs and whims above all else. She has finally learned what it seems her earlier years had perhaps been trying to teach her all along: that the joys of the world belong only to those strong enough and clever enough to climb upon the backs of others to grasp them. And she has vowed never to let another climb upon her in their own pursuit ever again.

It would have been easy for her to continue down this path, to continue down it until nigh impossible to turn back. Yet within these twenty years, chance has once again placed someone in her path that would radically change her life's trajectory. Rather, she met several someones. She calls them friend, lover, kin.. but most of all, at age forty, she calls them family. Blood or not, she has come to share a deep and profound bond with each of them.

Through them and their various trials and tribulations, she has come to see that she was wrong. Joy is not the sole providence of those who seize it by force of will. It belongs to those whose backs have been tred upon, yet still rise up from the darkness -- often with one another's help -- time and again. It belongs to those who refuse to give into despair and anger and bitterness, no matter how tempting. It belongs to those who are strong enough to allow themselves to be vulnerable and feel, rather than closing themselves off to everything and everyone around them.

At age forty, Ghoa can say without hesitancy or reservation that she is surrounded by those she cares for and whom care for her in turn. In coming to love them, she's come to love herself. Most of all, she has learned that her 'home' is not a physical place. It exists at a table full of drinks and raucous laughter. It exists in a conversation first awkward and quickly turned warm from a man who is at once unknown and yet achingly familiar to her. It exists wrapped in strong arms, even as tears well in her eyes and her clutching fingers are reluctant to ever let go.

Home is where she can be with those she loves, and perhaps that yet undiscovered realization is why Ghoa has been so very restless her entire life.

These past twenty years have yielded to her one more life-altering realization: that she can no sooner deny the Storm within her than she can deny her very self. It runs in her blood, electrifies her soul. Suppressing it is suppressing herself and, after all, had Ghoa not long ago vowed never to allow herself to be suppressed again?

Though the reunion has been long in the making, Ghpa's bond with the Storm feels like catching up with a long lost friend. At times, it is awkward and uncomfortable and even explosive. Others, they are in perfect harmony with one another. Regardless, Ghoa no longer winces at the rumbling skies as they approach, but looks instead with eagerness as the wind and rain begin to whip around her. Her breath hitches in excitement with each flash of lightning and roaring peal of thunder. They're discovering each other all over again after so long apart, and it will take time.. But it is a start that Ghoa has eagerly made.

-- AGE 60 . . .

At age sixty, Ghoa has begun to show the ravages of time. Her hair, once the color of breaking waves, has darkened and faded in vibrancy over the years. Lines have begun to form at her eyes and at the edges of her smile; their initial coming, of course, much to her dismay. Yet for what she has traded in youthful beauty, she's gained in poise. There's a certain air she keeps, a wisdom and a knowing sense that has come from a long life full of the lowest lows and the highest highs, from a life lived well and to its fullest.

She looks back now on the past six decades and sees all the past versions of herself with renewed clarity and understanding. The scared young woman just trying to survive the cruel hand dealt to her. The one who at one turn felt hope and love for the first time, and then just as quickly replaced both with guilt and self-loathing. The woman who convinced herself that she was better off putting herself above all others, caring not for who she hurt in the process. And yet, there is also the woman who found herself caring so much for those around her that she would fling herself into the face of danger to protect them at a moment's notice.

Ghoa looks back on these women now and realizes there was no one single point at which she became herself. She is the sum of all the parts of her life, both bitter and sweet. Even the worst moments of her life, she realizes now, eventually lead to change -- growth -- within herself. Though.. perhaps not in a linear fashion, as Ghoa was ever wont to stumble along the way. But with that realization now comes acceptance, peace, and healing. For the first time, she is able to look back at her years without picking out all the parts she wishes she could change.

Now at sixty, Ghoa has likely lost some of those she cares for along the way, gone but never forgotten nor less loved. Yet as always, the Storm within remains her most constant companion. Gone are the days where she fears its power or it roars out of her grasp unbidden. There is a mutual respect and understanding between them, and with that comes a power she never knew.

Once as a girl, Ghoa watched as Elder Unegen called lightning down from the sky upon herself and walked away not only whole, but embraced by arcing jolts of electricity curling protectively around her until she released them back unto the sky. She doubted back then that she could ever be so powerful. Yet now, Ghoa has not only performed the same feat, but she has done so in front of the next generation of Stormcallers. She will fill them with awe at what is possible, and she will guide them with a gentle but firm hand as any Elder Stormcaller aught now that she has come full circle and returned to the very tribe in which her long story began.

[viriyanon]

it's 12:08am and im feeling jiang yuelou since hours ago i need to let this out. watching jiang yuelou has always been an event to witness my own projection doing things, just like when i saw myself in chief phupha. but there are some similarities that are unique to yuelou.

first, yuelou and his dexterity, he is definitely capable of achieving a higher place than the commissioner's office. but his heart wants a peaceful countryside. he can do so many things with his level of cleverness and principle; he can turn a fool into the city's best officer. but he chooses the sunset in a far off countryside. because in his life, all he meets is conflict, physical and/or mental. the good and evil in him are constantly in a cut-throat clash.

he just wants an environment that puts the evil in a dormant state, or at least, sedated. since city life requires him to think hard, fight hard, live hard. with chen yuzhi and all of his parental figures' death, he finds no passion and reason to fight back anymore. yuzhi leaves unconditional kindness in his heart but is not physically there to help him nurture it. and yuelou is tired of having internal battle thats why his wish that fails and he eventually has to carry alone is to move to a countryside where his conscience will be less challenged.

second, out of everything, he only wants chen yuzhi's care. yuelou, in my eyes, he has so many buried aggression, anger, unreleased fear and anxiety. bet every time he has an episode, he just wants to throw something to release that bottled violence, preferably china cus i always feel, the breaking sound of it relieves a pie of the aggression. this also has the same purpose as the time he accidentally hurts chen yuzhi after saving him from the gangsters and he doesnt look guilty. because he needs people to know that he is so mad that he can hurt anyone if it's relieving. more importantly, he needs the people who he considers the closest to know that he's very angry.

like, this is me. look at me, im ugly. my inner self is even uglier, i wont hesitate even if it hurts you. look at how mad i am. i need you but for the love of God, stay away from me. ur too good for my fcked up life.

when yuzhi gives a constant and unfailing care and attention to him with extra tenderness and good will, yuelou sees no other prize but chen yuzhi. he has to have chen yuzhi close to him. he is his medicine. the doctor is transfering a surge of positive energy into every fiber of his being, he gives him a motherly touch that heals and calms his perilous storm down. chen yuzhi is a shock absorber, with his gentleness and pure concern for his well-being, he lets yuelou's anger travel to him through his fingers, pouring his overflowing aggression into a separate, less filled basin. the doctor himself is also an effective anaesthesia for jiang yuelou.

yuelou doesnt need someone to knock some senses into him or even worse, utilize the strong-arm tactics. a person like him has a gas station of his own; once you challenge him, you will be surprised by how far he can go. maybe, he will not use a gun to painlessly end someone's life. he will throw punches until all of that person's bones shatter into small particles and their ribs are broken inwards that it stab their heart and lungs. just so that person understand what pain is and hopefully records it in their head so not to repeat the same decision.

he only needs, as i said, someone who's having a quality of a mother gently nudging him, giving him the "kick". and thats it, he will calm down, his anger defuses, his vulnerability shows up. and chen yuzhi just needs to sing a lullaby and jiang yuelou will rest in a deep slumber until the sunrise.

looks like im writing this on behalf of yuelou. i understand his choice of action because i experience the same thing as him. and i admire him because he stays on the light side, not letting himself fall into the darkness like zhan junbai. again, chen yuzhi's presence (i just realize) is indeed so determining as he distinguish jiang yuelou's calibre with zhan junbai's. i havent found my own chen yuzhi but if one day i go through the same thing as yuelou, i'd do and feel pretty much the same thing. i'd be deadass dead. we are emotional people with so many love to give and thoughts to share but we are also very selective and sensitive abt to whom we share these confidences with.

i say, jiang yuelou thriving as a good commissioner and keying's only family, and staying in jing city, completely dumping the idea of a peaceful dawn watching sunset in a countryside are proves of him succumbing to fate. a white flag is raised by an unarmed man whose house just crumbles and his oasis is completely dried up.

[ragnvindrbrainrot]

"You're Mine."

Character: Childe

Request: Yeah from my own horny brain 😩

Warnings: Softcore Yandere, 18+ themes, violence ig? bondage, knife play, sadomasochism, mention of master/server kink, slight degradation?

Words: 1.2k of pure thirstiness babey

okay first of all Childe is devoted to his partner regardless of being yandere so jot that down real quick

normally when Childe is interested in someone he wont mind playfully reciprocating when a stranger is flirting with him in an attemp to make his interest jealous

however with you the idea that Childe could give the impression of not wanting you? of not needing you? that he doesn't have you on his mind and your name on the tip of his tongue every waking moment his job forces him away from you?

he'd literally rather die lmao

Childe kind of,,,, he's like a dog lol has to make sure people know what's his

before he starts charming you if someone's checking you out the moment you turn away from Childe that man is slinging an arm over your shoulders and playing up his cheerful carefree act

but don't be mistaken. under that smile is a scorching glare directed at anyone who even dares to look at you in a way he deems "rude", or "lusty" which could be anything from admiring the way sunlight catches on your hair to having the gall to not notice your beauty 🥴

and if someone dares to flirt with you? it doesn't matter if he's not there when they do. after all as a harbinger its not like the fatui lackeys are going to question his orders to watch over you and report any, shall we say, discrepancies then well. he'll just have to handle it won't he?

not to mention archons forbid the flirter makes you uncomfortable, some things Childe has learned while working for the fatui are suddenly a lot more useful

anyway,,, moving on to what we're all here for lol

Childe might come off as careless and harsh, perhaps even sometimes dismissive in certain scenarios (bro u aint ever paying for a single thing again in ur entire life if he can help it💀) but when the night rolls in? and its just the two of you with no one around to report his "weakness" to the tsaritsa?

oh he worships you

he has all manner of things he wants to say and do to you but most of all the things Childe needs most is you in pleasure, anything you want, anything you ask for as long as it doesn't let another see you coming undone Childe gives it to you without a second thought

okay so some specific ones that made me really go 🥴 and commit to typing this up haha

bondage. thats it thats the hc (jk jk)

silk ropes, handcuffs, spread bars, hell even his scarf, no especially his scarf Childe is always breathless at the sight of you tied up and at his mercy

the knowledge that it's only him that gets to see you like this? that you, with how strong you are don't hesitate to give complete and utter control over to him simply because you trust him to take care of you? ooohhhh it sends shivers down his spine

he lavishes you with kisses up and down and up and down your torso leaving little nibbles and hickeys wherever he wants and feeling his chest fill with pride at the way your whimpers and moans echo around the room

also im not saying hes a sadomasochist but hes absolutely a sadomasochist haha

his madochist side refuses to let himself cum until you have at least twice and even then Childe is still more focused on giving you pleasure then taking it for himself

throw back to that point that he'd give you anything you ask? ask to dominate him and pretty please tie me up, choke me, use me in whichever way you as long as he's blessed with the sight of you in the throes of pleasure his master/mistress

okay moving on to sadist Childe don't mind if i do mmMmMmm 🥴🥴🥴

ask him to be rough with you and you might have to pray to the nearest archon for oxygen because it makes him so excited he kisses you quite literally breathless

just look okay the idea of you letting Childe be rough with you, tugging you around by ropes or his scarf, pulling on your hair to remind you to keep your eyes open so he can see the way they roll back into your skull when he brings you over the edge

he loves the fact you like the marks he leaves all over you and how you can get shy when people gossip about your hickeys

choking? fuck man he choked on air when you brought it up 🥴 the fact that you're willing to put your life in his hands? in the most literal sense of the words while being so intimate gives him a hard on so painfull he thinks he might just cum on the spot

pushes you down on the bed, one hand around your neck the other in your hair tugging it every time he sees your eyes flutter shut, and as he thrusts harshly into you he whispers every filthly thought that pops into his head

"you're mine, only mine sweetheart"

"mine to use, mine to love, mine to wreck"

"only I get to see you like this, tied up and begging with tears in your eyes as i make you cum over and over and over again"

"they can dream all they like but at the end of the day you belong to me, your heart, your mind, your body, your pleasure, its all mine. isn't it, darling?"

"next time someone dares to flirt with what's mine, I might just have to show them, though of course then i'd have to kill them after all haha!"

okay so moving on to a unpopular kink of mine i just KNOW Childe would moan to think about 🥴

knife play baby and since he can make daggers w his vision lets just combine the two to make knife+vision play

loves the heady feeling he gets at seeing blood beading at the light cuts he skims across youre skin, but don't worry Childe will follow his hydro blades with his tongue pushing down and dragging it along the cut loving how it makes you squirm and whine in a beautiful mix of pleasure and pain

also aftercare with this man? prepare to be treated like a god/goddess

need a drink? of course! feeling hungry darling? why just tell him what you want to eat and Childe will get it right away

on top of that if you want a shower but don't have the energy to stand up don't worry Childe will carry there and wash away all the sweat and cum from your session

Childe will run you a shallow bath after washing the grime away, warm water and bath salts to soothe any aches and leave you to soak while he cleans up the bed, changing the sheets swapping the blanket and picking out clothes for you to sleep in (one of his shirts of course 🥴)

after all that he comes back and slides into the bath behind you, peppering soft kisses to your neck and shoulders all the while whispering praises about how wonderful you are, how much he loves you, the fact you make him feel whole in a way he didn't know he was lacking

unsurprisingly you probably fall asleep in the bath to his sweet praises, but thats okay : ) Childe will drain the bath and dry you off softly and put your sleeping clothes on before carrying you to bed where he wraps you up into his arms and blankets

the next morning you wake up to a lingering kiss, hooded eyelids and the smell of breakfast as Childe spends the few minutes he has left before leaving for work looking after your wellbeing

[gemlinz]

Fulcrum ch. 4 - Roadblock (Levi x f!Reader)

Summary: It was a cruel world, she knew. She also knew better than to ask for more than her lot: being a full time barmaid and a part time thief. She helped where she could, bitterly accepted where she could not. Feared the monsters lurking outside the walls.  But still - being near him, taking in his strength, his resolve - she couldn't help but hope for more. For herself. For him. For humanity.

Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Mention of Child Abuse

| CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 |

Read on A03

He almost doesn’t recognize her at first, in the light of day.  Usually, their meetings were at night, and she was dressed for work; be it barmaid or spy.  Now though, she’s wearing civilian clothes, hair done up and neat.  He can also see the defined muscles of her arms through her shawl, becoming more honed as the weeks of training go on.

The location is also unexpected- a small out of the way tea shop.  It also happened to be the only one that carried his preferred brand, so he’d frequent whenever leave allowed.

F/N’s talking to the owner at the counter when he enters, not noticing him.  Whatever it is must be interesting, neither of them look up at the bell.

Gritting his teeth at the sight of her, he hangs back.  Let her dig her grave first.

“This one?”  She points to a jar filled with loose leaves, “How long should it steep for?”

The shopkeep nods along, “That's the one - you’ll want to steep it in boiling water for 3 minutes, longer for a more mature taste.”

At her hesitation, the old man prompts with a twinkle in his eye, “It’s one of our most popular - sure to please any suitor.”

She scrambled to catch her wallet, almost dropping it in surprise.

“Oh- Oh no, nothing like that!”  From behind, Levi could only see the tips of her ears glow red. His stomach clenched at the thought of the endearing blush that was probably spreading across the bridge of her nose.  All for show as she continued to stutter out her cover story,  “It's for a, um, friend - I work at a bar, you see…”

“You serve tea….at a bar?”  The owner replied, skeptical.

F/N nodded frantically, ready to double down.�� 

“She serves shitty tea at a bar.”  Levi corrected, watching her violently startle at his voice.

“Levi!” The owner admonishes, recognizing him immediately, “You know you’re one of my favorite customers, but you can't talk to a lady like that.”

She had whipped around the second he spoke, eyes wide.  Levi wasn’t buying it for a second.

Roughly grabbing her arm, he shouted over his shoulder, “She ain’t no lady, old man.”  to the protesting shop owner as he forcibly dragged her outside.

“Pick another mark.” He deadpanned once they were outside, throwing her away from him.  Passerby's nervously shot them looks.

She stared at him for a beat, comprehending his words as she rubbed at where he had grabbed her with a wince.  Something like hurt crossed her face before quickly turning to rage.

“Fuck you, Levi.”  Her eyes blazed, and Levi raised a brow at her tone; he was used to her short temper, but she was usually smarter than to direct it at him.  He chalked it up to fear.  “I wasn’t going to rob him.  I was…” Her anger trailed off as she scrambled to explain, flushing. “Well, I was, um..”

“Convincing,” he snorted, “Get the hell out of here before I turn you in.  This shop’s off limits.”  

She could only stare at him.  Finding only condemnation and disgust in his eyes, she clenched her jaw and nodded.  

Eyes hard, she sent him one more glare before turning on her heel and all but storming down the street, fists clenched tightly at her side.

The Captain's eyes narrowed at her retreating back until she turned a corner. Once she was out of sight, he went back in; he still needed his tea.

“Yo, old man.  I’ll have my-”

“Levi!”  The old man started accusingly, “You can’t just scare aware my customers like that!”

“She wasn’t going to buy anything,” he scoffed, “She was casing you.”  At the blank look, he continued, "That woman's a known thief, she was going to steal from you.”

“Oh,” The old man deflated, taken aback “She seemed so earnest, too.  With a face like that, I really believed her.”

Levi hummed, “Yeah. I’m sure she came in with some bullshit story.  While you helped her, she looked for weaknesses.  Maybe even figured out where you keep your cash.”

“Yes, yes, she did have a story, now that you mention it.”  The old man nodded, putting it together, “Said she was looking for a brew for a thank you gift.  She seemed odd, but I thought she was just embarrassed to be buying tea for a suitor.”

Levi paused at that, then shook it off, squashing the thought.

“Yeah, any friends she has don’t drink tea.  You got scammed, old man.”

Sighing, the shopkeeper shook his head.

“Such a shame.  People these days, no honor.”  Moving back behind the counter, he continued, “But let me get you your regular - discounted, for your help.”

“Not necessary, but I wont say no.  Thanks.”

A week later and he found himself back at Louis’ pub, sitting in the same disgusting corner.

It was early - there were only a few men sitting down, getting a head start on the night.

Levi was staring so hard in disgust at the crumbs littering the table that he didn’t hear her come up until she cleared her throat.

If he was anyone else, he would have jumped.  Never before had someone been able to sneak up on him.

She didn’t miss his miniscule flinch though, and her eyebrows hit her hairline.  He scowled.

“Tea.” He bit out.

“We’re out,” she said with no inflection and offering no further explanation.

He stared.

“How the fuck can you be out?  Don’t you keep inventory or some shit?”

“Well,” F/N began, suddenly not meeting his eyes, “I went to go get more but I was unable to.”

“You were unable to?”  He deadpanned.

When she remained silently staring at the wall beside his head, he scoffed out something like a laugh.

“Yeah, I ain’t buying it.  You expect me to believe that you were actually at that tea shop to buy tea?  Bullshit - whatever swill you were serving me before definitely didn’t come from that shop.”

“Believe whatever you want, we still don’t have any tea.”  Her face gave away nothing and Levi sighed, rubbing at his brow.  Whatever she was playing at was going to give him a migraine.

“Fine.” He bit out, “I’ll take an ale.  Make sure the glass is clean, or I’ll send it back.”

Brushing off his warning, she walked away to get his order.  He eyed her back wearily - something was off, but he couldn’t pin it on what.  She was pissed, sure, but at what?  Because he ruined her heist on the tea shop?  That was pennies to what Erwin was paying her, she needed to get over it.  

So what was it?  Did he hurt her pride?  She was a good thief, a fantastic spy - what could robbing an unassuming store add to her reputation?

Could she really have been…?

No, he cut himself off.  She was a thief, plain and simple. She didn’t need another reason to steal.

Even as he thought it, his mind was already contradicting himself.  She was a thief - but so was he, not too long ago.  Worse than that, actually.  Isabel and Farlan had been too.  

And despite their initial meeting, she wasn’t as awful as some people he knew.  She was becoming almost tolerable, even.  Though her cleaning skills were abysmal. 

That played to his benefit though, as he used the ritualistic cleaning of the pub to clear his head, especially after a particularly shitty expedition.  It also helped not being alone with the memories of his dead comrades.  And F/N let him, oftentimes staying up much later than she would have otherwise.

Not out of the goodness of her heart, Levi reminded himself.  He wasn’t an idiot - he saw her intentionally mucking up her cleanup to try and goad him into doing it for her.  Not that it ever stopped him.

Their spy was also surprisingly receptive to training - she caught on quick, and only complained when he was particularly brutal.  Even after only a few weeks, he was having a harder and harder time landing a hit on her - granted in a real fight she’d still be severely outmatched, but still.  Any disadvantage he could give their enemies, he would. 

Sighing, he watched her make her way back to him, ale in hand.

“Here you are,” she said, placing it down with a forced smile.  Showmanship for any onlookers. “Anything else, sir?”

He narrowed his eyes.  Her fake sweetness always made him want to gag.  

“Sit.”  He commanded, kicking the chair across from him out.

Her eyes widened, though her smile didn’t drop.

“U-um,” She stuttered, moving her eyes to the other customers, “Are you sure that's-”

Rolling his eyes he nodded at the chair before commanding again, more sternly, “Sit.”

Immediately she sat, ankles crossed and not looking at him.  Satisfied, Levi reached for his pocket, pausing only briefly when he saw her start shaking.

She was still scared of him, he realized.  He supposed that was fair - he did threaten to slit her throat.  Still -

“It’s fine.  You’re just sweet talking a customer for a higher tip, no one will look twice.  You need to relax before some shithead gets the wrong idea.”  He pulled the letter out of his pocket slowly, letting her see clearly what it was before sliding it across to her.  She visibly relaxed.

“It's from our mutual friend,” He clarified, unnecessarily, “We’re going out of town for a few weeks. He has a job for you in the meantime.”

“Out of town,” She nodded, understanding, “Got it.  I’ll get what I can.”  She slid the letter into her apron and stood, hesitating.

“Something else?”  He asked, perturbed, taking a sip of his ale before grimacing at the taste.

She shot him one last look of irritation, then returned to serving the rest of her customers.  She wouldn’t stop by his table again until he had left.

As she cleared it off for the next guest, she smiled to herself at the generous stack of bills left under his half empty glass.

The job Erwin had for her was pretty easy, skill wise.  She had surveyed the property a few days prior, and she didn’t foresee any real challenge - security was weak, and the guards were overpaid noble brats. What's more, the mark literally had a ledger filled with his illegal dealings, shoddily hidden in a false drawer of his desk.  It would be suspicious if it wasn’t typical - the rich and powerful always thought they were untouchable.

However, as she copied down key transactions F/N quickly realized that this job was actually devastatingly hard - among other things, they were selling people - children, specifically.

With a rock in her gut, she re-read the log entry as memories hit her like a brick wall.  Trying to slow her harsh breathing, she dug crescent shaped cuts into her palms with her nails.  The pain brought her back to the present.

Swallowing hard, the young thief had barely made it out of the estate after copying the remaining logs.  The urge to destroy this monster was strong, and she’d start with this gaudy eyesore of a castle he had made off his sales. She could almost smell the smoke, could almost hear the crackle and pop as it burned to the ground.

The threat of Erwin turning her into the MPs when suspicions grew at why this particular merchant was targeted was the only thing stopping her.

Wasn’t going to stop her from strongly urging Erwin to do something about it in her report though.  

As she made her way back home, F/N felt drained.  This mission was done late - so late that it was early.  A night owl by nature, that fact didn’t bother her - but the quiet meant her mind kept journeying to the fringes of her memory, despite her best efforts at distraction.  Her fist clenched in anger, hissing as she aggravated the cuts on her hands.

The rich and powerful were used to getting what they wanted, no matter how fucked up it was.  She was living proof of that.  

The pub was dark when she arrived, Louis having closed on his own hours ago.  She took out her keys to unlock the back door.

“Oi.”  

The keys fell to the grime covered ground as she jumped.  The loud exhale behind her could have been mistaken for a laugh if she didn’t know better.

“Would you-!” She shouted, wincing at her volume in the quiet alley.  Voice dropping to a whisper she continued no less angry “Would you stop doing that?”

He was leaning against the wall, out of uniform but in a cloak with the hood pulled up.  She couldn’t see his face but she could feel the smirk.

“I’m here for your report.” His voice betrayed nothing, and it grated on her.

“Well, it's not done yet - I just got back.”  Pausing, she added, “You’re not supposed to be back until tomorrow.  Did the expedition end early?”

He was silent for a moment more before kicking off the wall, starting towards her.  She took a few steps back in alarm, but froze when he picked up her keys and held them up to her.

“Yes.  I’ll wait while you write it.” When she remained still, he gestured the keys to the door, waiting expectantly.

Rolling her eyes, she snatched them out of his hand, unlocking the door and letting them both into the dark bar.

Once they were both inside, F/N lit a lantern, heading towards the front. Taking one of the stacked chairs off the table and righting it, she sat.  

Levi, for all his big talk, looked lost now that he was inside.  He stood like a statue by the door to the back as she took out her notebook.

She tried ignoring him for a bit, but eventually grew agitated as she felt her anxiety spike at his looming presence.

“Would you sit down?”  She asked, annoyed.  She regretted it almost immediately, eyes darting back to her report.

He raised an eyebrow and she thought he would refuse - perhaps even violently, if their past was anything to go by - but eventually he sighed and righted one of the chairs at her table, sitting.  He undid his cloak and tossed it on the chair behind him.

It was an improvement, no matter how small, and F/N could feel herself relax.

Now she just had to write a report to Erwin detailing a child slave ring without losing her shit.

She wrote down the basics; who, where, when - but felt her mind blank on the what.

Levi noticed the hesitation immediately.

“That bad?”  He asked suddenly, and she almost dropped the pen at the suddenness of his question. 

“Am I that obvious?” She sighed tiredly, leaning back in her chair rubbing at her face.

He snorted.

“For a spy, you have a shit poker face.”  Levi paused, before leaning towards her, “What did you find?”

“Not a spy - just a thief.”  She answered automatically, eying him warily.  Biting her lip, she debated telling him, not sure how much Erwin wanted him to know.

But, then again, Erwin did have him restrain and beat her, so…

F/N flipped the notebook open to her copies of the ledger, sliding it over to him.  The thought of saying it aloud made her want to vomit.

Levi eyed her for only a second more before turning the notebook to read.  He made it about two entries before his face twisted in disgust.

“Fuck.”  He cursed, pushing the notebook away from him.  He stood up suddenly, and it was a testament to how tired she was that F/N didn’t even look up.

Hearing the clink of bottles, she watched him dig around the bar before setting an open whiskey bottle in front of her.

F/N met his gaze as he sat back down with his own glass, already filled with the amber liquor.  

“No glass for me?” She asked.

“Last time I saw you drink, you seemed to prefer going straight to the source.” He nodded towards the bottle, downing his glass.

She stiffened at the memory.  It had been seconds before he tried to shoot her.  And then succeeded in breaking her nose.  Fortunately for him, she was too tired right now to be anything but grateful for something to dull her mind.

Taking up the bottle, she took a long pull before setting it back on the table loudly.

They were silent for a moment, Levi helping himself to another pour.  F/N took another drink.

She could feel him studying her.

“This bothers you.” It wasn’t a question.

“Child slavery bothers me, asshole, yes.  Obviously.” She snapped back, stubbornly looking away.  Sometimes it still stung how lowly he thought of her.

“No,”  He continued, slowly, “This bothers you.  It’s personal.”

F/N felt her entire body go rigid, hand clasped tightly around the whiskey bottle.

Levi’s grey eyes took it in, nodding once to himself as if he had his answer.

It was quiet for a moment.  F/N took another pull of the liquor and steeled her nerves, picking up her pen once again.

She wrote the details in a clinical manner, the whiskey making her memories a bit hazier.  It helped.  Levi didn’t ask anymore questions.

When she finished, she sealed it and slid it across the table to him.  She held it firm when he made to grab it.

At his raised eyebrow, she took a breath, not meeting his eyes.

“Tell me Erwin will do something.”  Her voice was quiet, but carried weight.  “Tell me that even if it doesn’t fit the Corps agenda, he won’t-” She swallowed, “He won't let them get away with this.”

Levi sighed, then set his jaw.

“That’s not our call to make.”  

Shock loosened her grip enough for him to pry the report from under her fingers.  He tucked it into his jacket, eyeing her warily.  

Her stunned silence lasted only for a moment more before rage gave way.

“So, what, we just let them get away with it?”  She was standing now, the chair falling loudly behind her, “What about the kids, Levi?  Do you know what they do-”  She cut herself off suddenly, a look of horror on her face as she found herself caught in her own memories.

“Do you know what they do to them?”  She began again, breathing heavily, eyes unfocused, “Whatever you’re picturing, it's worse, it's literal hell, and they don’t get it - they’re too young to understand why it's happening to them - and they can’t defend themselves. And you’re telling me that for all his big hero talk that Erwin could turn his back on them...?”

She was ranting now, but Levi let her get it out before countering, “Whatever he decides, he’ll have his reasons.”

F/N slammed her hand down on the table, the whiskey bottle toppling over and spilling on the impact.  His hand inched towards his knife on instinct.

“That's not good enough!  You think the kids they’re brutalizing give a shit about his reasons!?” 

“You need to calm down.”  He ordered.  “Sit back down.”

She jammed a finger in his face, towering over where he still remained seated.

“I will not calm down - fuck Erwin for using the lives of children as a bargaining chip and fuck you for letting him.  If you won’t do something, then I’ll-”

F/N cut off in a gasp when he suddenly grabbed the wrist of the hand currently in his face and used it to lay her flat onto the table, arm twisted behind her.  It was a frustratingly familiar position, and she saw red at her own weakness.  Whiskey soaked her shirt as she tried to fight him off.  He waited patiently while she raged against him, his strength not letting up.  When she finally tired, breathing heavily and eyes still furious, he leaned in close, voice a menacing whisper from behind her.

“You’ll do what, F/N?”  He wasn’t taunting, but his voice was uncompromising, “Storm the castle, play at being the hero again?  At best you'll get yourself killed.  At worst, you compromise the Corp, compromise Erwin. If you do something against what he orders, he’ll have me kill you.  Or send you to the MPs, and then you’ll wish I did.  This isn’t a game, and we have exactly zero say in how this plays out.  Do you understand?”  

When he could still see the murder in her eyes, he sighed before easing his grip up, just slightly.

“Look - I get what this means to you.  And I understand the consequences if Erwin chooses not to act on this information.  For what it's worth - I’ll lobby for the end of this scumbag, in the most painful ways I can imagine.  But I need you to trust Erwin-”  when he felt her tense again, ready to fight, he tried again, “I need you to trust me.  Can you do that?”

There was a long silence.  Then F/N let her head rest fully against the table, looking away.  She nodded in defeat.

“Good.”  He stood up, pulling her with him and helping steady her.  She rubbed her wrist where bruises were already starting to form.

“I need to head out.  Can I trust you to not be an idiot until I get back?”  He asked, dusting his coat off and fastening his cloak.  When she didn’t answer, he shot her a warning look, frustration evident.  “I don’t want to hurt you F/N, but you won’t enjoy it if I need to leave you a reminder.”

The young woman flinched at the threat, but nodded joltingly.  “Yeah I got it, Captain.” She spit out.

Levi frowned, but could see she was taking this seriously; her fear left a bad taste in his mouth, but if the end result was her compliance, he’d take it.

“Good.  Get some rest - I’ll be back when we have a new mark.”  He called over his shoulder, leaving through the back and out into the night.

As soon as she heard the door close behind him, she collapsed to the floor, stifling her sobs into her hand.

[ravenquote]

OoC: Favorite Characters

I decided to focus on villains or anti-heroes, it’s hard picking just favorites in a general sense.

1. Harleen Quinzel A.K.A Harley Quin - DC Comic Universe I have been in love with this woman since September 1992 when she first aired in the Batman Animated series, Joker’s favor. Due to her brilliant creators of Paul Dini and Bruce Tim, led with the voice talents of Arleen Sorkin. She was born from her own raw desire to help people in her own best way possible, using her talents of understanding, reading and in many sense controlling people. Sadly, like Alice in wonderland, she fell into a realm of madness and uncertainty. She has been one of the most complex characters in animated history with large backstory and many turns and takes. Extremely popular on various forms and has made many appearances over the years even scoring some of her own comics and shows and now movies. When she was first created, she was merely a fill in and not meant to take and yet here she stands, a triumphant beauty whose overcome Abuse, trauma and degradation.

2. Azula - Avatar the last air bender animated television show + comics What can i say about Azula? In many retrospects she’s fierce, powerful, driven and just intelligent! I think a lot of people forget something pretty important about her: SHE WAS FOURTEEN! This young teenage, overthrew governments, taking whole cities and was the closest to killing the Avatar compared to anyone else. Not to mention her pure intelligence! People compare to playing a game of chess when it comes to moving people or controlling their actions. No, to this woman it was checkers. I truly believe if she didn’t become as over-confident as she did, the war would have ended with her taking the world. With the right nurturing, she would have become the most feared overlord the world would ever see.

3. Loghain Mac Tir - Dragon age book (The Stolen Throne by: David Gaider) and Dragon age Origins the Video game. Yeah, there’s a theme so far i am guessing you are seeing. I can’t help but appreciate sheer intelligence. Loghain is sort of obvious in the video games, it’s clear his intents. At the same time, there is far far more than what is merely on the surface with this man. An obvious villain, almost to the point of it being boring. Yet, why in the games are so many people hesitant and trusting of him? This man had proved himself, over and over, that he had his country in his heart and would do anything to protect it and keep it from the true monsters of the world. People. He was never shy about the routes he’d take, the lengths he’d go, he was brass, courageous, and deceptive. He called things out, forced people to seeing the bigger picture, he didn’t need to control or lie to people about things. He got what he wanted in the most unique ways possible, not his title, not his money, not his charisma but by being true in what had to be done. 

4. Sylvanas Windrunner - Blizzard Entertainment Video games I don’t see her as a Villain, an Anti-hero, yes. Look, we all know Blizz can’t seem to understand women or know how to write them on a large scale. I seriously feel bad for both, Piera Coppola and Patty Mattson as they have to watch this poor woman get brutally torn to pieces. I will always, always have a soft spot for her and remember the days where in many respects was like Illidain, and (above) Loghain. A woman who saw the bigger picture and would sacrifice anything to save everything she cared for. I wont drag on for her, simply because i know the most people who are doing this and following are from the Blizzard franchise and i know we have all heard many many layers to this continued argument about this particular character. If ya wanna PM about it or rant at me, bring it. I’m an Alliance player at heart, but i only got into w.o.w because of this woman. Both sides are shit. *drops mic*

5. Aaravos - Dragon Prince, Netflix television animated show. Okay, seriously, if you haven’t seen the show yet: DO IT! Just as with this theme, INTELLIGENCE, INTELLIGENCE, INTELLIGENCE! Tactful, charming, knowledgeable, i mean...look at that face! He is hands down perfect. Sadly, we still know very little of him but goshdamnit! Love! Love! Love! I can not wait to know more of him and see more of him. 

6. Maleficent - Fairy Tale story / Disney The jist of her, from stories and movies, is general: She was snubbed or insulted by the royal court and took her revenge on the child they were all celebrating. I’m sorry, but this has always been fantastic to me. What is more painful and hard to deal with then your own child being cursed? Claim petty if you want, but no, oh no my dear friend, this is a brilliant revenge. A normal person would blame the man in charge and curse him, but meh, whatever. Kings wont remember how they snubbed others, this is proven time and time again in many stories. Will this act ever be forgotten? Will the generations always remember not to snub a powerful faerie? You better believe it! She made a ever lasting mark, an impression that has lasted since the 13th century! Throughout the years no one has changed these facts: Maleficent was powerful, she was disrespected and she took her revenge onto a child. Normal stories like these over the years have changed both villains and heroes, or even circumstances. This classic has even seen the beautiful creation, directed by Robert Stromberg from a screenplay by Linda Woolverton, and still they honour the root of what was and with a focus on the villain and her origins.  How many villains get this?

7. Narberal Gamma - Overlord Anime/ Manga series Who doesn’t love a maid? Not to mention a Battle maid. Narberal is...mm, i don’t even know how to express her. She’s just generally cool, powerful, intelligent, loyal and honest with everything around her, just a demeanor of a refined perfection. She’s enjoyable to watch. Another thing i enjoy, she’s not the main villain. The show itself has many “villains”, i say in such way because it’s never really clear or obvious what you can count as villain or hero in a lot of ways. Yes, some are obvious but even then in many cases showed within it’s all about circumstances, who you are following, why you are following them. I enjoy the not so cut and dry of “good and evil”. This character also helps continue that ploy, helping and yet also killing people.

8. Carmilla - Castlevania Netflix series I’m a huge vampire fan, been so since middle school. I’m not as quick whipped as i use to be about the lore, history and so on when it comes to many Vampires and their origins. With such said, damn she made me bring out the books again, especially because she was one of my favorites to read about. I mean, Lesbian vampire. Do i need to say more? For now, i’ll only focus on the more recent adaption of her. So, yeah theme? We get it, intelligence. The world truly is a chess board for her, however she does not expect people to just flip the board on her. God, Jaime Murray, thank you so much for that wtf moment cause you expressed her sheer just horror at watching everything fall around her with perfection. Throughout the points we see Carmilla we see her truly be the tact master, stirring the pot and also showing her prowess in form. There is also a lot of restraint i don’t think people will give her credit for. We see how she expresses her emotions in violence, but i also think we are seeing it in a very, very pulled back way. I look forward to seeing how she changes her circumstances and sets things back into her own order in the coming season.

9. Akasha - Book series: The Queen of the Damned by Anne rice and movie: The Queen of the damned. Ah yes, the books that helped start the joys of vampires and how could i not fall in love with someone toying into the very beginning and trying to draw into the beginnings of a creature known throughout the world and time. Why do i choose Akasha considering i already touched base on vampires? Simple, she will always deserve a spot on any favorite list of anything. She gave so little cares about anything and only wanted the world to die and feel her wrath. Not to mention Aaliyah played this part so beautifully well it deserves every recognition it can get. I know she doesn’t seem to quite fit with the rest, but this is partly why she is so low on the list.

10. Callisto - Xena television series Last but certainly not least, we can’t forgot about this one. Good? Bad? Surely just pure chaos! She does what she wants and cares little about the consequences. It’s been ages since i’ve last seen the show i will admit, so my bases on her is a bit rusty. However, i will always remember her out of the many other villainous people we meet in the Xena universe. Fun, witty, combatant, you never knew what she was really going to do. As soon as she popped into a episode, i would recall fondly sitting at the edge of my seat just wondering how or why she did the things she did. There is my list of favorites, i’m sure you can see the themes between them all as many of them have common traits, inspirations and personalities. Hope you all enjoyed! Tagged by: @olivia-lovecraft​ tagging: *boops* you!

[jemej3m]

to the moon and back (p2)

:))

tw: murder and corpses, aftg typical stuff (no violence or graphic depictions, just some teen boys finding out more than they bargained for

part one | part two | part three

When Kevin saw Andrew leaning against the lockers, he floundered. Wymack was right behind him, spotted Andrew and huffed loudly.

“I’d ask how you got in here, but I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Why are you here?” Kevin spluttered. “Are you watching the game? Do you want to play?”  

“Fuck off, Kevin.” Andrew said calmly.

He forgot Kevin’s blubbering when Neil rounded his much taller position partner, only mildly surprised that Andrew was there already. The call had been twenty minutes ago: He’d been out the door in ten, and swerved into someone else’s parking spot seven minutes later. Now he was here, watching the Palmetto High Foxes come off after warm-ups to gear up.

“Where will you be?” He was flushed and sweaty, eyes bright and aware.

He gestured around him with a weak wave of his hand. Neil nodded and moved to change. He, strangely enough, wore a full-sleeved shirt under his padding.

Aaron made a startled noise, seeing his brother in the locking room. “What are you doing here?”

“Rude.” He answered. His avoidance of the question made Aaron nod simply, understanding the underlying message of later. He ignored Matthew Boyd, Seth Gordon and the other freshman sport junkies as they changed.  

Neil lingered until they’d all vanished and he had thirty seconds to get on court.

“Thanks,” He tried. Andrew shoved his shoulder lightly, wishing that he would stop looking so haunted. He much preferred his snarky Neil; this withdrawn, uptight boy wasn’t who’d caught his eye, but who now kept him curious.

“Hurry up, junkie.” He crossed his arms again and leant on the lockers. “Won’t wait around for you forever.”

He nodded, complacent, and ran off to join his team.

*

Neil Josten looked unfairly good in Andrew’s passenger seat. He was anxious, fingers rubbing over his hidden wrists, shoulders drawn up and chin tucked down, but the further they drove, the more the tension eased. He sent Andrew hesitant glances, waiting for Andrew to ask him the question.

The thing was, Andrew wasn’t sure what to ask. Why was he here? Where did he come from?  What gave him those scars? Why has he become so skittish over the past few days? What did he think about Andrew? What did he know about Andrew?

The right question would unlock all these answers. Andrew spent agonisingly long minutrd torn between trying to figure Neil Josten out, whilst denying that he remotely cared.

They were circling Palmetto city, until Josten made an advance for the cigarettes in Andrew’s drink holder. He hesitated, rising up an eyebrow with question. Andrew motioned for him to wait. He nodded.

The decrepit park they arrived at had a rusted seesaw, a pair of swings and a slide with all the paint peeled off its worn metal. There was no one around except for a man and his dog, a few hundred feet away. They sat on a bench and lit up two cigarettes in silence.

“Betsy will whoop my ass if she figures out I still smoke.” It was an explanation, but also an offering.

Neil sat in silence, watching his cigarette wither away. “She’s your mom.”

“Adoptive.” He corrected, watching the reaction on Neil face. He merely nodded.

Andrew decided to give up figuring out the key that would unlock all of Neil’s secrets. They had time. “I’m asking my question now.”

“Shoot.” He mumbled.

“Why do you let your cigarettes burn to the filter?”

Unbeknownst to Andrew, he had figured out the key question.

“My mom was killed today, six years ago. When I was ten.” He looked at Andrew.  “She was murdered. By my dad. Does that scare you?”

Andrew wanted to say that nothing scared him, but that wasn’t true. He was scared of heights. “No.”

“Thought so.” Neil huffed. “He murdered her, never went to prison. He’s too successful to let that happen. Bought out the investigation.” He took a slow drag from his cigarette. “Mom smoked. It reminds me of her.” Then, he looked up. “I thought you’d ask about why I called you, today. Or why I’ve been acting strange. Or my scars, or —“

Andrew waved him off. “You called me today because your mom was murdered six years ago by your father. Makes sense that you wouldn’t want to be at home. Makes sense that you’d choose to call me, because you know that I wouldn’t be scared about the idea of murder.”

“Aaron said you bought the car with your mother’s blood money.” Neil shrugged. “All I asked was why the fancy car, and he said that your mother gave both of you up to the foster system, then died in car accident when you were 13. You thought it was ironic to buy a car with her life insurance, considering how she’d died. No one thinks so lightly about death like that.”

“She meant nothing to me.” Andrew waved him off. “Don’t be so afraid to die, Josten.”

He was quiet at that.

“I never believed that these were surgery, or acne.” Andrew’s fingertips brushed over the cheek with knife marks. “It was your father, wasn’t it.”

“I thought we were doing one question.” Neil said drily.  

“You got free answers from Aaron.” Andrew pointed out. “It’s only fair.”

“You wont go to child services, will you?” Neil hesitated. “If you go to authorities, you’ll get nowhere, and put yourself at risk. I don’t—“ He coughed lightly. “I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

Andrew, momentarily, thought he was talking about himself. It only took a moment for him to realise he was talking about his mother. Of course Neil would be the self-sacrificing type. Idiot. 

“I was a foster child for the first ten years of my life, Neil.” It was the first time Andrew’d called Neil by his name. “I’m not going to go to child services. Was this your father?”

Neil nodded slowly. “It was last time he came into town. He stays up in Baltimore, where his business is. I didn’t—I didn’t do anything to make him so angry, but he did it anyway.”

Then he pulled up his sleeves and stared blankly at the grotesque scarring on his wrists, forearms and hands. He yanked the sleeves back down and looked at Andrew with worry. “Why am I trusting you with this? He killed mom because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. He’s going to kill you and me, too.”

He was clenching shaking fists. Andrew thought it was ridiculously unfair that a 16 year old was trying to balance school and homework, sports teams, friendships and not being murdered by a seemingly psychotic father. But Andrew wouldn’t be helpful to anyone if he just wallowed in how unfair life was, or let Neil wallow either.

Andrew made a decision. “Not if we get him locked up.”

Neil looked at him with wide eyes. Wide, terrified blue eyes. Andrew stared back, challenging him.

“I—“ He looked away. “I don’t know.”

“Surely you have some evidence.”

He winced. “I watched it. But if I put myself forward as a witness, he’ll kill me.”

“So we need irrefutable, physical evidence and we’ll leak it to the police.” Andrew decided. “Then you can’t be blamed for a reinvestigation and if he kills you then it’ll go against him.”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I don’t know, I don’t—“

“Hey, Neil?” Andrew leaned closer. The boy looked at him, terrified. “Shut up.”

He swallowed thickly and nodded, closing his eyes. Against better judgement, he fisted tufts of Neil’s soft hair between his fingers and pulled gently.

They said nothing else. Andrew finished another cigarette before putting the pack aside. They sat for a little while in silence, Andrew drinking water and letting the breeze steal the remnants of ash from his skin.

“Will you let me drop you home?”

He hesitated. “The street corner.”

Andrew was fine with that compromise. He was also fine with the way that Neil let his eyes close, head fall back against the headrest and hand hang out of the open window. Andrew didn’t tell him to get his foot off the dashboard, like he usually would. He also found himself looking, too often, at Neil’s relaxed figure. It caused him to swerve and speed unintentionally, the honking almost disturbing the junkie.

His heart rate sped up.

Weak. Stupid. Remember what happened last time you let your guard down?

It cooled him right off. He stared straight ahead and refused to think, knowing it’d lead right down a spiral he was all-too familiar with now.

They arrived at the corner of Neil’s street. He remembered the house, even if he couldn’t see it: It didn’t look large, but once Neil mentioned he hated how empty it was, making Andrew suspect it was larger than it appeared. The high fences and locked gates made the grey paneling and box-shaped architecture look like a prison. It wasn’t out of place in this expensive area of Palmetto, but it looked more untouched than the brand-new houses on the market. Neil existed within it alone, that Andrew knew, and it seemed as though he was practically squatting in the place.

Neil’s shuffling drew Andrew out of his thoughts. He dug out a black scarf, but Andrew would recognise the Evermore crest and red-and-black theme of the Ravens anywhere. Before he got out, he offered Andrew a plastic bag. It was filled with orange.

“What.” He said, unable to form a question.

“My father thinks I go to Evermore. I moved to Palmetto without permission and reroute the funds into a separate account that he doesn’t know about. I said I was going to watch their game this morning. Oh, and I’m not allowed to play Exy, so I need to give my things to you.” Neil admitted.

“Why?” Andrew demanded. For someone terrified of tempting his father’s ire, he sure was stupid. “What made you think that was a good idea?”

“I hated Evermore.” He said quietly. “I really, truly hated it.”

“I hate you,” He said, taking the bag of Fox gear and chucking into the back seat. As Neil clambered out, he said, “Think about my offer.”

He paused, toying with the end of the Raven’s scarf. Then he nodded. The door slammed closed. Neil Josten disappeared from Andrew’s view.

Part of him was irritated at being dragged into — or dragging himself into — such a mess. The other half was desperate to kiss Neil’s pretty face.

He ignored that little voice in his head and went home.

“Are you sure?” Andrew questioned.

Silently, Neil nodded. He had pressed in the gate’s code and pushed it open for Andrew to enter.

His father had left three days ago, and Neil had spent those three days overriding the security system of his home: All the cameras and microphones were blanked out for half an hour, being posed as a minor blackout if his father looked into it.

It wasn’t much of a window, but Neil said it was all he needed to show Andrew something — what exactly Andrew was being shown, he had no clue.

The gardens were manicured, every surface of the house polished: As if hearing Andrew’s observations, Neil gazed around him with distaste. “The house keeper and gardener keep an eye on me.” Neil then paused with a small frown, before deciding to hook his fingers into the sleeve of Andrew’s shirt. It was short sleeved, no where near the scars, so Andrew didn’t react with anything but a delighted shiver.

Stupid teenage boy hormones stupid gay ass stupid stupid.

Neil pulled him through angular corridors and lifeless decor. The only signs of life was a cereal bowl by the sink and a solitary picture on the living room mantelpiece. It was of the three of them: Neil had to be ten or younger, because his mother was standing behind him, hands on his shoulders. None of them were smiling.

Neil pulled back the rug in front of the fireplace: Almost unnoticeable was a little latch: He pulled on it and the wooden planks lifted to reveal a ladder downwards.

“Sick, isn’t it?” He commented lightly.  “He keeps the only photo of her in front of where he killed her.”

Andrew was infuriated. People suffered in a lot of different ways: Not many like this. No one deserved this. No one.

“What’s down there?”

“Wine.” Neil shrugged. “Old business stuff. Mom’s stuff. Probably the murder weapon.”

Andrew swallowed. “Let’s go check.”

Neil chewed nervously at his lip. He didn’t give Andrew an outright no, so he clambered down the ladder into the darkness. The mustiness of the cellar was enough to momentarily hide the unlaying stench from the din below. When Andrew was on his feet again, he felt along the walls to find a switch: When he flicked it on, Neil coughed, unsuccessfully masking how he choked on his own inhale.

He’d been right; there was a lot of boxed storage. But the overwhelmingly pungent smell of rotting flesh made Andrew gag. He pinched his lips shut, squeezing his eyes closed as he swore to himself not to throw up.

“Is that your mom?” He managed. They were looking at a body on a blue tarp, naked and decaying. With walls of concrete, nothing had been able to infiltrate the cellar in order to clean up a decaying body. It was naturally decomposing, skin peeling and yellow, blood blackened with oxidisation.

Neil shook his head violently. They turned to switch off the light and scramble up the ladder. Neil slammed the cellar cover shut, tugged the rug over it and ran: Andrew followed, only to witness him throwing up into the kitchen sink. Andrew, instinctively, held his hair out of the way as he grabbed a mug from the nearest cabinet and filled it with water.

Neil slid onto the floor when he deigned himself finished, taking the mug of water and washing out his mouth. Andrew sat in front of him, looking at his sickly pale skin and gaunt cheeks.

“At least we have our evidence?” Andrew said, weakly.

Neil glared at him. Beyond that, Andrew saw the sense of relief. He tugged on Neil’s curls until his head dropped forward, onto Andrew’s shoulder.

They stayed there for so long that Andrew couldn’t feet his legs where Neil had relaxed his whole body against him.

He couldn’t, however, say that he minded.

we love some aftg typical murder worked into an innocent high school au

[gretchen-whoisleft]

headcanon // a fighter

It wasn’t that she was an early, small or sickly baby–– none of the things that “she’s a fighter!” usually gets tacked to describing. In fact, even though her sisters followed very close behind her in age, Gretchen was a healthy, chubby, happy and well-attended baby who enjoyed the glowing spotlight of being the oldest. She was doted on, happy to soak up the attention from her parents, their friends and the family’s extended relatives. Dinner parties were her platform to put on shows; when the lines of questioning came about her starting school and how her classes were getting on, she didn’t shy from the questions but indulged in the fact that she had a captive audience, especially for that first year of Hogwarts before Geraldine joined as her peer.

However, she has always been searching for reasons to fight–– especially if it was for the ‘Right Reasons’. She’d wait for her parents to punish one of her siblings, and then take the side of her sister with fiery determination. She wasn’t pretending to love her sisters unconditionally or anything; she really did. But she took these fights to a degree they never needed to reach, if only because they were so justifiable. Of course she was going to launch herself, uninvited, between her parents and Gloria when the latter hadn’t cleaned her room (“She’s my sister! Of course I’m going to stand up for her!”) or between her parents and Geraldine when the former accused their middle daughter of spending too much time conspiring to begin her apprenticeship with Garrick early (“You’re always talking about how family is so important, why can’t you stick to your words? You’re complete hypocrites.”)

Of course, the fact that she was so keen to jump into other people’s arguments with her sisters didn’t mean she was at all deterred from fighting with them herself. How could she help herself? She was right! Most of the time––the overwhelming majority of the time––Gretchen was so completely convinced that she was coming into things as the only person with the correct, clearest point of view. To her, it seemed worth fighting over. Fighting for. She had a genuine penchant for justice, but couldn’t help but be overly performative with it. It was a great way to ‘scratch the itch’ before the Order came into her life and gave her the ultimate goal.

It was this knack for fighting that got her into trouble once, as a student. 

And it was that same knack for fighting that got her out of it, as a young adult.

For the former, she was a sixth year. Something about her had grown restless–– maybe because she was past the year when she could use ‘I have OWLs to prepare for’ to sound importantly busy but it was far too soon for her to consider beginning preparation for NEWTS. She’d always had a hot streak, always used ‘why not?’ as the perfect reasoning to loudly, proudly and pointedly share her many opinions. She liked to think of herself as very fearless. Others had different adjectives in mind, and it wasn’t long before bickering with a certain stuck-up Ravenclaw boy (Jorah Daniels, a name she refuses to forget even now that it’s all ancient history) turned into setting up a duel. It would have to be after curfew, no doubt. She needed a second; she needed to make sure her wand was ready; she needed to wear comfortable shoes for once.

The duel itself was unremarkable. 

Each of them got a few good shots in. A few knock-backs, some singed robes, a handful of satisfyingly green bruises. They were fighting pridefully over their pride, not with any real violence in their hearts. But still, as teens with wands were wont to do, they got carried away. Things got louder, and stickier, and neither was interested in calling things off and calling it a tie. Once escalated, it probably would have continued for hours––or until a tragic injury occurred––but interference happened swiftly and suddenly, with the sound of unfamiliar shoes approaching around the corner. The students all scattered, but in the shuffle Gretchen dropped her wand. She could have gone back for it the next day (on the off chance it wasn’t picked up and used to identify her), but it was her wand. She was bonded to it, it had served her well tonight and, besides, something felt inherently uncomfortable about running away from something she’d set up with so much conviction about it being the right thing to do.

If she really thought she was in the right here, didn’t it make sense to stand by it and accept her punishment? There was a little drama in that, sure. A little Martyrdom. But those were two things she was well versed in, and they too aided in her hesitation to bolt.

When she came face to face with Headmaster Dumbledore and was asked to escort him back to his office, she was sure she was done for. That her parents would be written to, or that a mountain of detentions were about to come her way. Instead, she was treated to a delightfully confusing conversation that seemed to be filled with inside jokes that she wasn’t on the inside of yet, and innuendo she wasn’t worldly enough (to her chagrin) to understand.

She did not get in trouble that night.

Years later, standing alone in the dusty familiarity of her grandfather’s wand shop, she did not get in trouble either. She’d been wandering the globe. There was still dirt under her fingernails from hiking in Spain, a bruise on her thigh from the Australian bush, and a cough rattling her lungs she’d picked up on the train back to London. It hadn’t taken her long to get the itch to fight again––that’s what happened when she didn’t have enough to keep her occupied, too busy to take up any new causes to champion. A curfew had been set over the city in the wake of the worsening war, but Gretchen’s feet didn’t know how to stop moving her around; a studio apartment couldn’t contain her, and it had been a while since she’d tried to fight the urge. This last duel had gotten the better of her wand. The wood around the base was splintered slightly; a disaster for most people, but a quick trip to see Geraldine was all it meant for Gretchen.

Dumbledore needed to only cast a quick look at her wand to know what she was up to–– there was a look on his face, a twinkle in his eye. Gretchen felt the same mix of embarrassment and fierce pride that she had years ago as a student. She met his eye and didn’t speak until he did. When he finally broke the silence, it was not with an admonishment, as she suspected (some people never outgrow looking up to their teachers), but with an offer.

Gretchen quit her aimless wandering after that. She had direction now, a permanent cause to champion as a newly minted member of the Order of the Phoenix. She bought into the organization immediately ––always one for disguises, adrenaline, the poetry of espionage and, above all else, throwing herself into causes that she deeply believed deserved justice.

[libidomechanica]

Who is mynd

Who is mynd? And yet you know you hardly it mightie eating tongue: when ye listening of Salomon;

I trowe, with his door   of sunshine aged Tree on to busness, and Six the Bridge than I live, ridiculous. And the fields of Sense—through we never head;

“the kitchen cabinet, I swear attendants of rain into the day I prize has three will turn upon the moon. S magic, ghosts, thoughts are nought dale; and and owns her eyebrows like the heed it heavd anew old ocean glittring appear be spring;

heroes and opportunity. Resolvd in Metaphor quite. Boats, thought   there.

All my hope once though his dore I have away, dissolve, and Lucy took her breathed out to all bury me under white Breath, struck, kissed until that he stood, bewilderness—stood as if croon If you who would I ail

my life. These very hard Ive pud, to do with melancholy Spright,’‘tis not telling springs; and walks with Rufa study, also in their solidity   in his time,

to draw from him; so, bent oer young behind, suddenly, as once let this nest; and the prime,

and my laurels wore, if Loue, I hope were deed, though Epictetus witch-on-girl violence, and loves,’ and despaire than in a wailful choirboy voice when I love,

Ay, fill up the pale street stare, glare, fresh lusty grief, she walls, and a the chance; here lyeth the pestilence. S voice engender head a lawny continuance offer of bliss? And jestest wished days.

With just as he country maid an army shouldst haue a dove of leaves spredde, with common, here like a bed or four, with this in New York and a hey nonino, that al wole envenyme,

hath wedde a pane of spleen. Our sameness the fresh Colours to you woe. —All sunny lane some in one should ask the kind, to thee, I obtaine

so darkly on my spirit the floating plums ready have please, to begin th East, and all I believed:

a letter, everything, and so gentle, unfair, and let the pale contentment ring, laughs at home this of my woes hadde with youth, or snakes smiles a wit, has been al the thou wast place; in the ward to thy heavnly Image in such warm, and years—

  and hesitate,   unless wont let us first, unconquere or a saints, and spite of Heart, which you truly love, calld Salámáns Eye its dead. Only Knows.

And Betty, and pleasure, our head, with a things—for feard to see that all. Whan the francs for even Diogenes. ”If John and He that standing me,

know not worthie to a heaven we combat with continueel murmuring pain. The country so far off, threwe: but the moon in many a hill, without even the lily with a blew up with people spread praising divine;

  Skies be.         Watch TV shows about at its step aside,   These Honours sell.   thou come to thee. which Zoe needs the Sorrow!

[sevenrogues]

Hey! Can I request 17, 20 and 37 with General Hux? Thank you!

Every Man Has A Good Side | General Armitage Hux x Hostage!Reader

Summary: You have been kidnapped by General Hux and kept hostage by the First Order, purely on the basis that you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Kept in a cell under the General’s orders, you are interrogated for information, despite your pleas that you have no allegiance to the Resistance. As the months go by, Hux finds himself growing attached to you, finding it increasingly hard to watch the interrogation and do nothing. Until one particular day when the torture goes to far and something inside him snaps.Pairing: General Hux x ReaderPrompts Used: “Don’t sass me woman!” (17), “That’s so adorable! He think’s he’s scary!” (20) & “Why didn’t you do it? Why didn’t you kill me when you had the chance?” (37)Warnings: Hostage situation, interrogation, torture, violence. It’s not all doom and gloom I swear xDA/N: Thanks anon for this request, I hope you enjoy! :D

“Ren, she is not with them…..we could let her go, she won’t talk I’m sure of it.” 

They were walking towards the cell block, their footsteps in time due to the soldier precision that had been drilled into the First Order since the beginning.

“General, you have grown merciful. Do not fall for her pretenses, I am sure she knows something. We will make her talk….eventually” Kylo Ren’s voice crackles through his mask.

Hux did not like the sound of that. It hadn’t taken him long to come to the conclusion about the girl’s innocence, having interrogated hundreds of people before. He could spot the signs of a liar and he knew that this particular prisoner just wanted to go home. 

They reach the interrogation room but as Kylo Ren goes to open the door, Hux stops him.

“I warn you Ren, if she is innocent, Snoke will not been keen to hear of your mistake”

Kylo looks down to where Hux’s hand grasped his arm. Pulling it free, he wrapped his fingers round the handle.

“Pathetic, you have grown fond of her. I am not wrong, she has information. You’ll see.” 

“I was told you’d come to see me” you growl, “Have you people finally come to your senses yet? I don’t know anything!” 

“We’ll see” Kylo replies, his fingers brushing over your cheek, “Such a pretty face too, it’s a shame you chose the wrong side”

You grit your teeth.

“That’s so adorable, he thinks he’s scary” you seeth.

“Oh, you’re not afraid girl?” Ren asks, cocking his head.

You don’t reply, wishing that you could just get free of the metal shackles around your wrists and ankles.

“You should be” he says, his hand coming down to rest on your forehead.

A searing pain erupts in your body and you hold back a scream. You could feel him in your head, searching all your memories and thoughts, completely unable to stop him. 

The pain stops. 

“please….” you beg, your voice ragged. “I am not with the Resistance, you have to believe me”

Kylo lets out a frustrated growl and the pain comes back once again, twice as intense. Unable to stop yourself this time, a scream rips from your throat and you feel hot tears running down your cheeks. 

In the corner of your eye, you notice Hux looking at you with an unrecognisable expression.

As the pain ends once again, your eyes meet his. 

“You knew this would happen….” you pant. “How cruel, that instead of granting me a painless death, you bring the devil himself….”

As if on cue, Kylo enters your mind once more and you let out a sob, the pain pulling you in and out of consciousness. 

“Why didn’t you do it?” you whimper, looking at Hux through hazy eyes, “Why didn’t you kill me when you had the chance?” 

The pain stops and you almost groan at how euphoric the feeling is, your body immediately relaxing. 

“Are you done?” Hux growls, his eyes burning like fire as he looks at Kylo standing above your now unconscious body. 

The General doesn’t get a response and a satisfied smirk spreads across his face. “You didn’t find anything did you….”

A roar of outrage and the crackle of a lightsaber wipes the smirk away and instinctively, he moves to stand in front of your body. With a frustrated growl, Kylo disappears from the room, slamming the metal door behind him. 

Letting out a relieved sigh, Hux’s eyes turn to focus on your face, so peaceful in sleep, as if nothing had ever happened. He couldn’t deny that you were beautiful, even after being here for so long. 

A thought begins to fester in his mind and soon, the determination to set you free consumes him. 

After one last look at you, he turns and strides out the door, a plan firmly set in his mind.

You were awake by the time he returned to the interrogation room.

“Back to assess the damage?” you snarl, the anger radiating from your body. “And to think, I actually believed you when you told me you knew I was innocent.” 

“I didn’t have the power to stop him!” Hux snaps back, “Otherwise I would!” 

The anger fades slightly at his words as you remember the powerless expression on his face when he had watched Kylo Ren search your mind. 

You sigh. 

“What more do you lot want from me General? He was in my head! Surely he realised that I was innocent after that?” you ask, hopeful.

Lowering his gaze, Hux shakes his head. “Kylo doesn’t like to be proven wrong. He’d rather kill you trying to find some form of information than let you go…..” he murmurs. 

Your eyes widen in fear, “I-”

Holding up a hand, he interrupts you. “Which is why I’m going to get you out of here.” he says, reaching into his pocket and taking out a set of keys. “I didn’t do it before because I thought you might be safer here, just as long as it was me leading the interrogation. But since Ren has decided to take over, I can’t let him do that to you again”.

Stunned, you open and close your mouth a few times, trying to find words.

“General….why are you helping me?” you whisper.

He just looks at you with an unreadable expression before gently unlocking the metal braces holding your body down. 

“Ren has left the base to attend to business, but he wont be gone long. We must hurry. There’s a ship waiting to take you home. The pilot is on strict orders not to ask questions or look at the cargo.” he says, offering you a hand to help you from the interrogation bed.

You hesitate. 

“How are you planning on getting me to the hangar without being spotted?”

He pauses, the thought evidently hadn’t crossed his mind. “Wait here…” he says after a second, quickly leaving the room. 

Nervously, you rub your sore wrists. You had no idea why the General was helping you, after all, he was the one who captured you in the first place. But, Hux had shown you a strange level of kindness over the past months, once he’d discovered your innocence. The interrogation sessions turning into conversations about your home planet, his hostile tone turning soft as you shared stories of your childhood. 

You couldn’t deny that you’d grown fond of his company.

When he comes back into the room, he’s dragging an unconscious stoormtrooper, huffing with the effort. 

“What did you do?!” you exclaim as he begins meticulously stripping the trooper of his armour. 

“He was the only one standing guard” was his only reply.

You wonder how the hell he managed to knock out one of those guys single handed, but you figure it was probably best not to underestimate him.

“Right, put this on please” he says, pushing the armour pieces towards you. 

Thankful of the skintight black clothes they had put you in upon your arrival, you pick up the one of the arm braces and buckle it on, followed by the other arm brace and the leg pieces. 

Hux watches you intently, trying to keep his head focused on the task ahead.

He notices you pick up the chest piece.

“Here, let me help you” he hears himself say, before walking behind you to buckle the back. 

His gentle touch surprises you, for someone so seemingly cold and harsh on the exterior.

“Th..thank you” you breathe.

He helps you into the rest of the suit until you are completely clad in white armour.

“Come on, we don’t have much time” he says and you both cautiously leave the room, walking down the long corridor until you come to another door. 

He notices your uncomfortable walk and pauses, “What are you doing? You’re a soldier! Walk like one!” he mutters through his teeth.

“I haven’t walked on my feet for two months!” you fire back, “I’m trying my best! Also, have you forgotten that I am in fact a few feet shorter than the soldier you decided to steal this armour from?” 

“Don’t sass me woman!” he snarls, “I’m risking my job for this you know!”

You don’t reply, deciding instead to throw the door open and march, as best you could, into the main part of the base. Your heart was thumping in your chest, the hangar seemingly so far away. 

“Follow me” Hux whispers, confidently falling into step next to you.

You give him a slight nod. 

“I’m right behind you”

Somehow, you both manage to reach the hangar without being detected and Hux can feel his initial nerves begin to fade as the ship comes into view.

“You get on board, I need to talk to the pilot for a minute” he says, pointing at the ship’s main boarding ramp. 

You half run towards the door and a small smile forms on Hux’s lips, watching you disappear into the ship. Approaching the cockpit, he knocks on the glass, spurring the man inside to open it.

“The cargo has been loaded, do not let anything happen to it or I will hunt you down and make your life a living hell. Do you hear me?” 

The pilot nods, understanding his orders. 

“Good. Let me make one final check and you will be clear for dispatch”

He steps down from the ladder and walks round to the door you disappeared through a few minutes ago. When he finds you, you are strapped into one of chairs, the stormtrooper helmet on the seat beside you.

“Hi” you say, a small smile on your face.

“The pilot will take you straight to your home planet” he says, “I just thought I’d…say goodbye”.

A sudden sadness fills him as he realises he is never going to see you again. He didn’t know why it affected him so much, but there was a part of him that wished he’d met you under different circumstances.

“I wont forget what you have done for me General” you declare, reaching out to gently take his hand. “Thank you”

Your touch sends sparks through his arm and his eyes meet yours. 

Very slowly, his fingers intertwine with your smaller ones.

“I hope….I hope we meet again Y/N….” he says, kneeling in front of you. 

“I would like that” you smile, “As long as you aren’t planning on capturing me again”

He lets out a sad chuckle, “Never. I will find you, I promise, once everything comes to an end.” he says, standing up and letting go of your hand. Slowly, he backs away, his eyes not leaving yours. 

“Goodbye Y/N” 

Turning away, he exits the ship, giving a small nod to the pilot who closes the main door and starts up the engines. 

The ship hovers off the ground and flies out of the hangar.

A sigh escapes his lips as he watches the familiar hyperdrive flash, indicating that you had really escaped and that his plan had worked.

“Until next time” 

A/N: Thanks once again anon for this request! I hope it was okay! Part of me really doubts that Hux is capable of anything like this, but we can all dream xD

Tags: @infinte-exist-ence​

[kazliin]

For the prompt thing: 24) things you said with clenched fists.

Part 6 of the Espionage/Assassin AU. Part 1 here, part 2 here, part 3 here, part 4 here, part 5 here

I’d advise reading the other parts before this one or it wont make much sense. Also warnings ahead for violence.  

24) things you said with clenched fists

Viktor could hear nothing over the frantic pounding of hisown heart, slamming against his ribcage almost painfully as he sprinted downthe hallway. Finding the location where Yuuri was being held had wasted precioustime, time he couldn’t afford to lose when Yuuri’s life was on the line.

He just prayed that he wouldn’t be too late.

The compound he had tracked Yuuri’s captors to was remote, aconcrete slab of a bunker in the middle of nowhere with precious few ways in orout. For someone of his skillset however, it should almost have been child’splay to infiltrate the base. Something he had done thousands of times beforewith ease. But despite that, Viktor had fumbled, his work sloppier and lesscontrolled than usual. Once he almost missed a guard going for the alarm as he workedhis way silently through the base, an unforgivable mistake had he not caughtthe man just in time.

It was sentiment. Sentiment that was causing his hands totremble as he ran silently through the building, sentiment that was causing hisheart to race and his chest to clench painfully tight at the thought of whatmight await him at the end of his journey. It was why people like him never gotattached, never had people they cared about because caring was a liability.

But he had fallen in love. And now Yuuri was paying for it.

Viktor came to a stop as he finally reached a corner, a longcorridor beyond. Peering around it stealthily, he took in the sight before him.At the end of the hallway stood a door, sleek and metal, set deep into thewall. Two guards were standing outside, looking bored and relaxed after whatmust have been a long shift.

Darting around the corner, Viktor struck, lightning fast.The guards were on the floor before they even had time to cry out.

Once they were dealt with, Viktor turned to the door,swiping one of the access cards from the bodies on the floor. The red light bythe lock flashed to green the minute the card touched it and Viktor was alreadymoving before the door had even swung fully open, gun raised and firing.

The guards in the room fell within seconds, taken completelyby surprise and with no time to raise their own weapons to retaliate. Viktor’seyes darted around the room in seconds, assessing threats, taking out targetsuntil his eyes finally fell on…

Viktor felt his heart lurch to a sickening stop in his chestat the sight before him. Yuuri was bound to a chair in the centre of the room,dark hair mattered with dried blood and face slack and pale. His body was limpand motionless but Viktor could see the jump of a pulse in the exposed line ofYuuri’s neck.

A neck that was clearly on display as a hand tangled inYuuri’s hair, wrenching his unresponsive head back and pressing the wickedsteel of a knife to his throat.

“I would stop there if I were you,” the man standing overYuuri warned, eyes darting around the room as he spoke, flickering over thefallen guards. The fear was clear in his eyes as he looked at Viktor but hishand was steady on the knife, pressing hard enough to draw a thin line of bloodfrom Yuuri’s skin.

“If you hurt him, I’ll kill you,” Viktor gritted out, handtightening on his gun until his fingers ached with the force of the grip.Everything in him screamed at him to shoot the man who was holding Yuuri’s lifein his hands but the knife was too close to Yuuri’s neck and it wasn’t a riskhe could take. Not while Yuuri’s life was on the line.

“I’ve already hurt him,” Yuuri’s captor sneered, gesturingto Yuuri’s face and the bruises already blooming there. “He’s a strong one youknow. Hasn’t told me anything yet, no matter how hard I tried to…persuade him.”

Viktor started forward instinctively, anger boiling in hisveins but he stopped short when he saw the knife cut a little deeper intoYuuri’s neck, sending fresh beads of blood rolling down his throat.

“Ah ah ah,” the man crooned, eyes flashing with triumph atViktor’s hesitance. “If you value this one’s life, you’ll stop right there. Putyour gun down and kick it over to me, unless you want to see just how quickly Ican cut his throat.”

For a wild second, Viktor was almost tempted to shoot himanyway, anything to get the man’s hands off of Yuuri and to make him pay forwhat he had done. But visions of the knife sliding across Yuuri’s throat as theman crumpled to the ground filled him with icy fear, freezing the blood in hisveins and stopping his heart cold.

Instead, Viktor lowered the gun, inch by inch until it waslying on the ground before him. Gritting his teeth to quell the rising bile inthe back of his throat, he kicked the gun towards the man before him andwatched as he bent to pick it up. Anything if it meant keeping Yuuri alive.

“It’s a shame to see Viktor Nikiforov brought so low,” theman mocked as he stood up again, Viktor’s gun in his hand. “And all for love.Pathetic.”

The hand that was holding the knife dropped away fromYuuri’s throat as instead the gun was levelled at Viktor’s head.

“And now you’re going to let me go,” the man added with a twistedsmile.

A gunshot rang out throughout the room, echoing off thewalls, mingling with the sound of a body hitting the ground with a dull thud.

“He might, but I won’t,” came a voice from the other side ofthe room.

The speaker emerged from the shadows, Viktor tensing as hiseyes flickered between the body of Yuuri’s captor now lying on the floor and thenew player who had just entered the game. The man’s hair was sleek and black,his skin a few shades darker than Yuuri’s and face a few years younger, with a fiercely protective light inhis eyes. He was dressed from head to toe in black, body armour and harnessesfamiliar to Viktor’s eyes.

An agent.

Viktor had gone up against his type before, well trained andabsolutely deadly. When he had first been contracted to play honeypot to one oftheir handlers, he had been wary at first. Crossing agents was a bad idea, evenin his business. But Yuuri, vastly intelligent as he might have been, had shownno signs of the fierce training of the agents who worked with him. He mighthave had a vast knowledge of almost every undercover operation, every sleeperagent, every mission that was putting all of Viktor’s client’s highly illegalbusiness interests at risk but Yuuri co-ordinated the missions from behind thescenes, not in the field. He hadn’t seen Viktor for what he was, not until itwas already too late.

The agent in black seemed to have already dismissed Viktoras a threat, instead dashing over to Yuuri. Dark eyes flickered over Yuuri’sface, fingers searching for a pulse beating in his neck and Viktor could hearthe sigh of relief when it was found.

“I thought we’d lost you,” the agent murmured to Yuuri,although Yuuri showed no signs of responding, eyes still closed. “The othersare on their way. We’ll bring you home.”

Viktor felt a surge of something unpleasant twist in hisgut, mingling strangely with the relief of seeing Yuuri safe. He took a stepforward on instinct, determined to reach Yuuri too but the sharp click of a gunreadying stopped him dead.

The agent had spun around at his movement, crouched over Yuuriprotectively with his gun levelled between Viktor’s eyes. Without his own gunto protect him, Viktor came to an abrupt halt, looking at the agent warily.

“If you take one step closer, I’ll shoot you,” the agentwarned. “Don’t think that I won’t.”

“I’m trying to help him,” Viktor insisted but the man justsnorted out a bitter laugh.

“It’s because of you that he’s in this mess in the firstplace,” he spat at Viktor. “Do you really think I’m going to let you near himafter that.”

“Please…” Viktor tried again. He wasn’t used to begging butfor Yuuri he would. “I need to see him. To make sure that he’s ok. There are somany things I need to tell him…I…”

The words hung in the air for a moment as the agent’s eyesbore into him. It went against everything Viktor ever knew to reveal his biggestsecrete to an enemy but it was his last hope.

“I love him.”

“I know,” the agent sighed after an agonising few seconds,although he was still watching Viktor warily. “It’s because of you that wefound him. We followed you here once we realised what you were trying to do.But that doesn’t change what you are.”

The look he gave Viktor was almost pitying.

“The rest of my team will be here any minute. Yuuri almostgave his life to protect us, to keep out identities secret from the people whohired you. We would do the same for him in an instant. And none of them aregoing to be very happy to see you here.”

Viktor opened his mouth to reply but the agent cut him offbefore he could speak.

“You helped us find Yuuri. You tried to save him. Because ofthat, I’ll let you go. Just this once. A favour for a favour,” the agentoffered, gun never leaving Viktor’s face. “But if we ever meet again, if youever come near Yuuri again, I’ll take you down.”

“I wont leave him,” Viktor insisted, fists clenched as hetook another step forward despite the gun that was still pointed at him. “Notnow.”

The sound of boots hitting metal floor echoed around theroom, faint at first but drawing nearer. The other agents were on their way.

“Run now, Viktor Nikiforov,” the agent told him, voice hardand still standing protectively over Yuuri. “While you still have the chance.”

 TBC…

[ryudrawingblindofficial]

               Guys here is a master post of all My Children.                                                        

https://ryudrawingblindofficial.tumblr.com/OCsandchildren

    Undertale based kids.

Blurr!Sans and Pop!dog:

Blurr is from Abletale and is completely blind.   The only acceptation to this is Pop is Familiar and friend.  When Pop wears a special collar he provides Blurr with an understanding on what is around him.  Blurr has sight magic but with created with no eye sockets, so he wears a blindfold over his face with a matching soul that links to Pop.

Blurr’s very protective of his baby brother Shy!Papyrus and with Pop’s help wont hesitate to show you a bad time.

Blur has a calm personality.  He is meant to guard the gate to the one of the two barriers.  The other is guarded by the Queen

Un-available for shipping!

~~~~~

Tilted (Tilt!Sans) Blood:

A bad Sans From SteampunkTale and airship captain, whose soul has been Corrupted by a virus called “Blood Boil”.  His face became horribly damaged after running from a village, and he took the fur and soul of a bunny monster who was trying to befriend him.  He stuck the fur to one part of his face and eat her soul.  This fused the fur to him and numbed that pain he was in.  he has since learned that he needs pain medication to live a normal life with minimal pain.  He also eats souls in order to gain LV.

In a sorta relationship with Salem (@proxypuff)

~~~~~

Divine (Cupcake * @nekophy * and Drago * @proxypuff * child.)

Divine is a quiet timid healer.  She spends most her time with her Brother Ixyai (@proxypuff) or otter she calls him.  As a child she couldn’t control her ability and she nearly went insane from reading others memories and feelings.  She was sent away twice.  Once to train under Dream, but when that resulted in a very scary night of her hiding in the woods to try and get some sleep, she was sent to Lady Life in Reapertale.  She now wears a pendent that keeps her ability at bay.

She is most commonly the one to give up everything even her own happiness for the happiness of others.  She can’t stand violence and would rather try and save the un-saveable.

Dating!

~~~~~

Forgotten (and lost):

An abused child wondering a city looking for his mother.

(Story in progress.)

DO NOT SHIP!!!

~~~~~

Walker (Hacker):

The second child to FATHER and Snow (@proxypuff).  He has always been FATHERs favorite until now.  Walker currently lives in a cave hiding away from his CREATOR and is unaware Snow exists.  Walker mostly talks to Proxy over all his other brothers.  To his knowledge all the others think he is still working for FATHER.

In a Relationship with Hebi AKA Charmer  (@shu-draw)

~~~~~

Vapor AKA Vape (A Quarrel * @thepleasantjellybean * and Anarchy * @proxypuff * Child): 

A smoke puffing reaper.  He loves working in Reapertale with his mother and grandfather.  His favorite thing to do with his father is travel and write books based on AUs.  Vapor can puff out vapor from his mouth and nose that is just simply magic.

Currently Dating!

~~~~~

Acid (Genocide)

The sister of Snow (@proxypuff)

Acid is a living embodiment of all genocide routes in and around the AU’s and the many timelines they create.

Acids favorite thing to do in mess with monsters.  She is very sexually promiscuous.  She has no mind rubbing herself up on any monster or human she chooses.  She sometimes uses this to cause fights.  Her lack of a moral compass seems to be her biggest folly.

Available for shipping!  (Also is open to Experiences.  Ask if you want to know. )

~~~~~

Lyric (MusicBox AU)

A not very outspoken gentleman.  He loves to sing but believes its not good.  He lives alone since he can no longer return home to his parents in his AU after its gate was destroyed by Error.

Available for shipping!

~~~~~

Pokemon based kids.

Richie (Low IV'ed Eevee)

An Eevee at lv 1 he was hatched with the worst IV’s and EV’s so the trainer that hatched him just tossed him out.  He has grown to dislike trainers and vowed to stop them from catching a Pokemon if he can stop it.  He is still a baby and currently is cared for by a Chansey Name Karry.  His best friend is a Riolu named Angel

Un-available for shipping!

~~~~~

MY LITTLE PONY characters

Laser Sight (Fallout Equestria)

The last of a recon team to see if the surface was safe to live on, Laser lost his entire teal to a Raider nest.  He himself was injured really badly.  They removed his Cutie mark, along with a few other injuries.  

Once he was free, Laser wondered the Wastes looking for those he could help, as a way to fill a promise he man to a Marefriend.

Laser is soon followed by the leader of the Raiders who had just freed him.   Nirvana is a huge distraction and is a constant reminder of how deprived the Wastes can be.

The two become travel companions and begin the journey to find the old city of Canterlot.

It doesn’t take to long before new thoughts and feeling creep up on Laser.

Un-available for shipping!

~~~~~

FlameStream

Flame Stream is a pony born to be able to handle extreme weathers.  He is the soul researcher on dragons.  He takes care of a baby dragon named Rascal.  Flame’s closest friend is Misfit Pon (@proxypuff)

I may release a story based on him.

Un-available for shipping!

Rascal (Baby Dragon)

Flame Stream’s baby dragon friend.  Still an infant and learning how to walk and talk.

~~~~~

Tucker (MoonColt)  ((COMING SOON!))

~~~~~

Halo Star AKA Lady Heart :

Halo star is a PonySona of myself.  Because I’m legally blind she is too.  She was what I made my YT vids with.  

She can’t fly, but can hover for up to one minute before her wings hurt to much and she has to land.

Her cutie mark is a heart with a halo over the right side.  it resembles her kind nature to anypony.

Available for shipping!

~~~~~

Original characters.

Ryu The Blind Cat (Tumblr OC) :

Ryu the cat is commonly Sassy. He is totally blind in his left eye, and has no feeling in his right ear.  He lives in a large space with many doors.  He is the only one who knows where the different doors lead to. Each door is a different Galaxy (fandom) he likes traveling to.

Ryu’s companion in his house is the Flying ask box that he can control freely.  He sends “Asky” to any of the others if he doesn’t want to answer anything.

Ryu is in a Relationship with ProxyPuff

~~~~~

Ryu the Halfer (AKA Kenji):

Story : Fangs and Tails.

Ryu has no feeling in his Right ear no after what has happened to him.  He hides his ears and tail in public.  He would rather stay in his top floor apartment of the building he owns.  Ryu normally only comes out to lay in the fresh cut grass in the park near his home.

Ryu’s Relationship is with Kumi (@proxypuff)

Ryu’s story.

    Ryu,was first born with the name Shin,  He can’t tell what year or what day he was born in, but he remembers a bitter cold that nothing but a dead of winter could make.  His heightened senses can recall a scent of fire, The warming touch of a human body and the the cooing sound of a woman.

    Ryu living with a woman he vaguely remembers calling mommy.  Her touch and her scent linger in his memory along with his earliest happy memory, and his most disturbing memory.  Ryu was never allowed to remove his hat, or wear shorts that did not conceal his tail.  He was never advised by his mother the reasons behind the concealment.

      Two days before Christmas Ryu sat with his mother as she began to make dinner.  His mother had just finished explaining why he was given the name Shin.  “Because you’re my heart.”  She said.  When a man stomped down the door.  “I seek out that child of yours.”  He called to Ryu’s mom.  “I hear you have a black half-child.  Give it up!”  Ryu ran to hide from the site, his mother screaming at him all the while to never look back.  “I’ll find you Shin!  Just hide!”

     Ryu ran and hid in a car.  He cried himself to sleep that night.  Waking up later, Ryu found himself in a locked room.  He yelled for hours before a tall young man walked in with another slightly older man who appeared well dressed.  “What’s your name?”  The well dressed man asked.  

      “Shin, will you help me find my mother.”  Ryu asked.       “Does she have your hair?”  Asked the younger.       “No, hers is yellow.”  Ryu answered.       The well dressed man handed the other a large bag.  “Well done.”  Was said, before reaching out and grabbing Ryu’s hand.  “Follow me Neko!” The well dressed man said, nearly dragging Ryu along.       Ryu lived as Neko, and became a fast pet.  Placed through a ownership process.  Branded with a tattoo, a lead ring on his right ear, and a collar around his neck.  Though young and in pain through out the whole thing, he was given to his new masters son as a gift for his seventh birthday.  He wasn’t allowed to learn, but secretly taught himself how you write and read some, through his young master Hiroshi.

    As he grew he was treated horribly by his master.  Forced to clean and not wear a shirt ever.  He was leashed in public, and when he disobeyed or blamed for anything the leash was hooked to his lead ring causing him great amounts of pain as he was forced to bow.  He was hit for good measure every now and again. Yet with his young master Hiroshi.  He found someone who would treat him kindly.  Praise him for the good things, teach him things when he messed up. Hiroshi allowed him to become a friend, to be close. He gave him a blanket when he was sick when they got older.  It didn’t take long before he and his young master Hiroshi became more than friends.  Ryu was around thirteen when he and his master was finally caught in each others arms.  

     His master was so mad, but from that point on he kept Ryu locked up and only allowed out for his own personal uses.

    Ryu was fifteen when his young master Hiroshi and a woman came to see him.  They explained that a law was passed back when Ryu was thirteen and it meant he was free.

    “Will you come with me young master?”  Ryu had asked.   Hiroshi smiled at Ryu and kissed his head.  “I’m no longer here Neko, I can’t leave.”  

      Upon closer look Ryu saw it.  His masters body looked so weak, so not like it used to.  “Can I stay with you till then?”  He asked.       “I’d rather you leave, I wouldn’t want you to see this.”  Hiroshi said and smiled.  “All my clothes, and most of my thing I want you to have.  This woman, her name is Minato, she’s a friend of mine.  She’ll take you far away from here.  Where you can live in peace.”  He let a fragile hand rest on Ryu’s cheek.   “Neko you are free to have your own name your own life.”       Ryu cried to the touch and closed his eyes.  “My name will be Ryu.  I’m going to be human someday.”  He said.       “Don’t deny who you are Ryu…”  Hiroshi smiled.  “Dragon, Ryu, it fits you.”       Ryu left that house with Minato to live in a big city.  In Hiroshi’s things Ryu found Manga that taught him what Yaoi was.  He soon learned to draw, and through Minato’s company began to published a manga series.      Ryu only cried once after leaving.  He broke down the day he learned that Hiroshi died.

This Master list can change from time to time if I add more to the master post.

[no-more-cream]

Hopeless Love Part 2

Part 2

Rated (m)

Genre: S/A/F

Warning: Aggressive/Violence, Sexual Content, Cursing

-Admin K

Slowly opening the front door you turn your light on brightening up the living room. “Where you running off too?” Jimin ask, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into the house closing the door behind him. “Jimin don't you have practice in 20 minutes?” you laugh a little as you get pulled by Jimin onto the couch, “I’m busy hanging out with you, I’ll tell them I can’t make it this time. Namjoon-hyung wont care” he says pulling your feet up onto his lap as you lay down next to him. “I want to spend the whole day with my bestfriend is that a crime?” he ask, massaging your feet. Closing your eyes you begin to relax, smiling to his words, “I don't want you to get in trouble ChimChim are you sure?” you ask, peeking an eye open you see him smiling down at his lap with a slight shade of red filling his cheeks as he continues massaging your feet. “I know what I can and can’t do Y/N don't worry about me” you start to feel a slight smile spread across your face as you sigh in content. A few minutes passed and the room begins to become silent as Jimin awkwardly keeps his head down at the floor, “You okay Jimin? You’re never this quiet” you ask, “Uh, Um yeah. I’ll be right back? Okay? I just need some air, why not see what the boys are up too?” Jimin quickly stands up heading towards the front door leaving his phone unattended on the coffee table. “Ok?.., I guess I’ll text Jungkook and ask what he's doing” snatching Jimin’s phone from the table you open up his messaging app only to see the words ‘Taehyung’ as one of the most recent contacts, out of curiosity you open up their texts:

3 days ago:

Hearing the door opening, you quickly toss his phone back on the table laying back down on the couch. Clearing your throat you stand up, “Soo, feeling any better?” you ask as you watch him rub his hands together to warm them, “fuck it’s getting cold outside, I swear I’m gonna end up with frostbite just watch” forcing a smile you look at him, “you alright Y/N?” he asked, walking closer to you, taking a step back you trip over the couch, “I asked you if you were okay first” you quickly say, making an excuse to get the attention off of you. Suddenly that similar shade of pink fill up his cheeks once again as he looks someplace other than you, “Y-yeah, I’m fine.. J-Just needed some fresh air” he says with a stutter, you look at him with a glare giving him a soft sigh, “I kind of want to text one of the boys, may I use your phone?” you ask, grabbing his phone anyways. “Yeah su- Wait! Let me see it before you do” reaching over for his phone you hide it behind you, “what you need? Got something you don’t want me to see?” you ask, “n-no Y/N, I just gotta… well.. Delete something”

“I think you want to hide something from me” you say putting it in your back pocket

“Don't be silly what will I hide from you? You’re my bestfriend” he says, reaching behind you

“Oh.. Am I?” you say, making him freeze, looking over at you. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, nothing. Just that I saw you and Tae’s texts. You were just faking to be my bestfriend this whole time weren’t you?” looking over at Jimin he stops reaching for his phone, “Y/N…”

“Taehyung wants space from me because i’m ‘clingy’ so he uses you to be his replacement?” you ask to yourself, “how can he be such an asshole? How can you even let him do that?”

Sitting there quietly Jimin looks down at the floor. All you could see was pain and sadness in his eyes, “Jimin?..” you whisper his name laying a hand on his shoulder as he backs away from you, “Are you seriously that dense?” he ask under his breath. “Jimin…”

Walking over to you he grabs you by the wrist pulling you towards him, “Are you really just that fucking stupid?” looking up at him with the little courage you have you say nothing, staring into his eyes. His eyes were red and watery like he was tearing up. “Y/N do you know how long I’ve loved you? I know you don’t see me that way but guess what, I do love you. I know exactly how you feel right fucking now. All this pain you feel because Taehyung doesn’t love you back? Well that’s how I feel with you. All these boyfriend’s you’ve had during these past few years, fuck… You even dated Jungkook. Do you know how I feel?” tears rolling down his eyes he throws your wrist away from his reach moving away from you. “Jimin..” is all you could say until you feel a rough yet warm and passionate kiss fill your lips as Jimin presses his lips against yours. Leaving you completely breathless as he pushes you down onto the couch. “Just.. Stop talking, let me show you how I feel for the past fucking decade” crawling over you  he begins to kiss every inch of your body from your toes to your neck, “god baby you don’t understand how long i’ve been wanting to do this” he kisses your neck rough as he sucks hard and nibbles on the sensitive skin leaving a blood red mark on your skin as he continues his trail up your neck and onto your jawline, small moans escaped your lips as they were silenced with another passionate kiss. Your arms reached around him leaving red lines on his back through his white button up. “Fuck Y/N I want you so badly” he says rubbing your sides to feel every inch of your body, “then take me Jimin” you say with a moan, looking at you, he bites his bottom lip as he begins to pull your shorts down revealing your glistening pussy juice sheering your white lace panties. He quickly pulls your legs up to his mouth licking up the juices on your panties, making you gasp in pleasure. The sounds of your moans instantly makes his dick pulse in anger. Pealing your now soaked panties off your pussy he begins to chow down slurping up your juices that drip down your lips.”J-Jimin-Oppa please..” you beg, making him even hornier than ever. Letting you go you get onto your knees, unbuttoning his jeans you reveal his huge hard cock as it flings out in front of you. Shocked by his size you look up at him, smirking down at you he says, “what? You thought that rumor about asians were true?” pushing you down onto your back he positions himself between you looking at you for further permission. Looking at his huge cock your pussy begins to ache in need as you quickly shake your head yes without hesitation. And like that he slowly slides it in making you gasp so loudly you swear you could hear yourself echo throughout your apartment. His thrust quickens to every moan you make as he starts to suck on your nipple. Moaning and groaning you could already feel your high coming. Your pussy starts to squeeze around his hard cock making you feel his warm precum spray out of him as he thrust even harder than before. Your heart starts to quicken and your legs begin to shake, lifting your core closer to him giving him the sign to go faster, “O-Oppa, fuck, I- I’m about to cum Jimin!”

“Cum for be baby!”

An overwhelming feeling of tingles runs throughout your body, as you feel an instant lightness but also your muscles begin to tighten all over you, and your upper thighs begin to quiver, your mind starts to spin and all you could feel was a release of pressure and hot air as your high becomes at ease. Jimin’s moans begin to fill your ears as he places soft kisses on your forehead while he finishes his last few pumps before completely losing energy and collapsing on top of your weak body.

Silence filled the air as he slides his dick out of you and cum spills out of your pussy.

Sitting up you run your hand down his chest looking up at him, “I didn’t know you felt this way about me.” sighing he grabs your hand, “I’ve loved you for years now Y/N, I didn’t know how to tell you..I wish it wasn’t this way though, I don’t want you to think I wanted you just for sex” Jimin says, pulling you into a tight loving hug. “I wouldn’t have thought that way to begin with Jimin” you say as you place your palms on his cheeks kissing his lips.

A few hours have passed as you watch Jimin fall asleep holding you. Smiling to the naked man in your bed you kiss his blonde hair.

*ding ding*

Hearing your phone go off you look over to see who it was only to see the words “TaeTae”

“Taehyung?” you whisper to yourself, opening the texts you read:

[ryudrawingblindofficial]

Guys here is a master post of all My Children.

https://ryudrawingblindofficial.tumblr.com/OCsandchildren

     Undertale based kids.

Blurr!Sans and Pop!dog:

Blurr is from Abletale and is completely blind.   The only acceptation to this is Pop is Familiar and friend.  When Pop wears a special collar he provides Blurr with an understanding on what is around him.  Blurr has sight magic but with created with no eye sockets, so he wears a blindfold over his face with a matching soul that links to Pop.

Blurr’s very protective of his baby brother Shy!Papyrus and with Pop’s help wont hesitate to show you a bad time.

Blur has a calm personality.  He is meant to guard the gate to the one of the two barriers.  The other is guarded by the Queen

Un-available for shipping!

~~~~~

Tilted (Tilt!Sans) Blood:

A bad Sans From SteampunkTale and airship captain, whose soul has been Corrupted by a virus called “Blood Boil”.  His face became horribly damaged after running from a village, and he took the fur and soul of a bunny monster who was trying to befriend him.  He stuck the fur to one part of his face and eat her soul.  This fused the fur to him and numbed that pain he was in.  he has since learned that he needs pain medication to live a normal life with minimal pain.  He also eats souls in order to gain LV.

In a sorta relationship with Salem (@proxypuff)

~~~~~

Divine (Cupcake * @nekophy * and Drago * @proxypuff * child.)

Divine is a quiet timid healer.  She spends most her time with her Brother Ixyai (@proxypuff) or otter she calls him.  As a child she couldn’t control her ability and she nearly went insane from reading others memories and feelings.  She was sent away twice.  Once to train under Dream, but when that resulted in a very scary night of her hiding in the woods to try and get some sleep, she was sent to Lady Life in Reapertale.  She now wears a pendent that keeps her ability at bay.

She is most commonly the one to give up everything even her own happiness for the happiness of others.  She can’t stand violence and would rather try and save the un-saveable.

Dating!

~~~~~

Forgotten (and lost):

An abused child wondering a city looking for his mother.

(Story in progress.)

DO NOT SHIP!!!

~~~~~

Walker (Hacker):

The second child to FATHER and Snow (@proxypuff).  He has always been FATHERs favorite until now.  Walker currently lives in a cave hiding away from his CREATOR and is unaware Snow exists.  Walker mostly talks to Proxy over all his other brothers.  To his knowledge all the others think he is still working for FATHER.

In a Relationship with Hebi AKA Charmer  (@shu-draw)

~~~~~

Vapor AKA Vape (A Quarrel * @thepleasantjellybean * and Anarchy * @proxypuff * Child):

A smoke puffing reaper.  He loves working in Reapertale with his mother and grandfather.  His favorite thing to do with his father is travel and write books based on AUs.  Vapor can puff out vapor from his mouth and nose that is just simply magic.

Available for shipping!

~~~~~

Acid (Genocide)

The sister of Snow (@proxypuff)

Acid is a living embodiment of all genocide routes in and around the AU’s and the many timelines they create.

Acids favorite thing to do in mess with monsters.  She is very sexually promiscuous.  She has no mind rubbing herself up on any monster or human she chooses.  She sometimes uses this to cause fights.  Her lack of a moral compass seems to be her biggest folly.

Available for shipping!  (Also is open to Experiences.  Ask if you want to know. )

~~~~~

Pokemon based kids.

Richie (Low IV'ed Eevee)

An Eevee at lv 1 he was hatched with the worst IV’s and EV’s so the trainer that hatched him just tossed him out.  He has grown to dislike trainers and vowed to stop them from catching a Pokemon if he can stop it.  He is still a baby and currently is cared for by a Chansey Name Karry.  His best friend is a Riolu named Angel

Un-available for shipping!

~~~~~

MY LITTLE PONY characters

Laser Sight (Fallout Equestria)

The last of a recon team to see if the surface was safe to live on, Laser lost his entire teal to a Raider nest.  He himself was injured really badly.  They removed his Cutie mark, along with a few other injuries.  

Once he was free, Laser wondered the Wastes looking for those he could help, as a way to fill a promise he man to a Marefriend.

Laser is soon followed by the leader of the Raiders who had just freed him.   Nirvana is a huge distraction and is a constant reminder of how deprived the Wastes can be.

The two become travel companions and begin the journey to find the old city of Canterlot.

It doesn’t take to long before new thoughts and feeling creep up on Laser.

Un-available for shipping!

~~~~~

FlameStream

Flame Stream is a pony born to be able to handle extreme weathers.  He is the soul researcher on dragons.  He takes care of a baby dragon named Rascal.  Flame’s closest friend is Misfit Pon (@proxypuff)

I may release a story based on him.

Un-available for shipping!

Rascal (Baby Dragon)

Flame Stream’s baby dragon friend.  Still an infant and learning how to walk and talk.

~~~~~

Tucker (MoonColt)  ((COMING SOON!))

~~~~~

Halo Star AKA Lady Heart :

Halo star is a PonySona of myself.  Because I’m legally blind she is too.  She was what I made my YT vids with.  

She can’t fly, but can hover for up to one minute before her wings hurt to much and she has to land.

Her cutie mark is a heart with a halo over the right side.  it resembles her kind nature to anypony.

Avalible for shipping!

~~~~~

Origanal characters.

Ryu The Blind Cat (Tumblr OC) :

Ryu the cat is commonly Sassy. He is totally blind in his left eye, and has no feeling in his right ear.  He lives in a large space with many doors.  He is the only one who knows where the different doors lead to. Each door is a different Galaxy (fandom) he likes traveling to.

Ryu’s companion in his house is the Flying ask box that he can control freely.  He sends “Asky” to any of the others if he doesn’t want to answer anything.

Ryu is in a Relationship with ProxyPuff

~~~~~

Ryu the Halfer (AKA Kenji):

Story : Fangs and Tails.

Ryu has no feeling in his Right ear no after what has happened to him.  He hides his ears and tail in public.  He would rather stay in his top floor apartment of the building he owns.  Ryu normally only comes out to lay in the fresh cut grass in the park near his home.

Ryu’s Relationship is with Kumi (@proxypuff)

Ryu’s story.

    Ryu,was first born with the name Shin,  He can’t tell what year or what day he was born in, but he remembers a bitter cold that nothing but a dead of winter could make.  His heightened senses can recall a scent of fire, The warming touch of a human body and the the cooing sound of a woman.

    Ryu living with a woman he vaguely remembers calling mommy.  Her touch and her scent linger in his memory along with his earliest happy memory, and his most disturbing memory.  Ryu was never allowed to remove his hat, or wear shorts that did not conceal his tail.  He was never advised by his mother the reasons behind the concealment.

      Two days before Christmas Ryu sat with his mother as she began to make dinner.  His mother had just finished explaining why he was given the name Shin.  “Because you’re my heart.”  She said.  When a man stomped down the door.  “I seek out that child of yours.”  He called to Ryu’s mom.  “I hear you have a black half-child.  Give it up!”  Ryu ran to hide from the site, his mother screaming at him all the while to never look back.  “I’ll find you Shin!  Just hide!”

     Ryu ran and hid in a car.  He cried himself to sleep that night.  Waking up later, Ryu found himself in a locked room.  He yelled for hours before a tall young man walked in with another slightly older man who appeared well dressed.  “What’s your name?”  The well dressed man asked.  

      “Shin, will you help me find my mother.”  Ryu asked.       “Does she have your hair?”  Asked the younger.       “No, hers is yellow.”  Ryu answered.       The well dressed man handed the other a large bag.  “Well done.”  Was said, before reaching out and grabbing Ryu’s hand.  “Follow me Neko!” The well dressed man said, nearly dragging Ryu along.       Ryu lived as Neko, and became a fast pet.  Placed through a ownership process.  Branded with a tattoo, a lead ring on his right ear, and a collar around his neck.  Though young and in pain through out the whole thing, he was given to his new masters son as a gift for his seventh birthday.  He wasn’t allowed to learn, but secretly taught himself how you write and read some, through his young master Hiroshi.

    As he grew he was treated horribly by his master.  Forced to clean and not wear a shirt ever.  He was leashed in public, and when he disobeyed or blamed for anything the leash was hooked to his lead ring causing him great amounts of pain as he was forced to bow.  He was hit for good measure every now and again. Yet with his young master Hiroshi.  He found someone who would treat him kindly.  Praise him for the good things, teach him things when he messed up. Hiroshi allowed him to become a friend, to be close. He gave him a blanket when he was sick when they got older.  It didn’t take long before he and his young master Hiroshi became more than friends.  Ryu was around thirteen when he and his master was finally caught in each others arms.  

     His master was so mad, but from that point on he kept Ryu locked up and only allowed out for his own personal uses.

    Ryu was fifteen when his young master Hiroshi and a woman came to see him.  They explained that a law was passed back when Ryu was thirteen and it meant he was free.

    “Will you come with me young master?”  Ryu had asked.   Hiroshi smiled at Ryu and kissed his head.  “I’m no longer here Neko, I can’t leave.”  

      Upon closer look Ryu saw it.  His masters body looked so weak, so not like it used to.  “Can I stay with you till then?”  He asked.       “I’d rather you leave, I wouldn’t want you to see this.”  Hiroshi said and smiled.  “All my clothes, and most of my thing I want you to have.  This woman, her name is Minato, she’s a friend of mine.  She’ll take you far away from here.  Where you can live in peace.”  He let a fragile hand rest on Ryu’s cheek.   “Neko you are free to have your own name your own life.”       Ryu cried to the touch and closed his eyes.  “My name will be Ryu.  I’m going to be human someday.”  He said.       “Don’t deny who you are Ryu…”  Hiroshi smiled.  “Dragon, Ryu, it fits you.”       Ryu left that house with Minato to live in a big city.  In Hiroshi’s things Ryu found Manga that taught him what Yaoi was.  He soon learned to draw, and through Minato’s company began to published a manga series.      Ryu only cried once after leaving.  He broke down the day he learned that Hiroshi died.

This Master list can change from time to time if I add more to the master post.