#Lifeless Skin treatment

[blasphemecel]

How to Subtly Show Someone You're Interested

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 2.4k TYPE: Humor, Bad flirting, bickering WARNINGS: huge Kaiser tw

#1 Eye contact

Kaiser has been acting strange.

Usually this would not be an observation you'd be making (as he acts weird all the time so it's not worthy of note), but today he's been so odd, it's starting to bug you even more than his default level of being annoying.

He keeps just… staring blankly. At you. You don't know what you did to deserve this horrible treatment — perhaps you did not grovel enough after accidentally butting into His Majesty’s shoulder, or breathed in his direction too hard without permission, or some other similar tragedy — but it's getting unsettling.

Well, honestly, it was creepy to begin with, but it's making your skin crawl more and more the longer it goes on. Like, what does he want? Are you going to be on the news soon? His eyes are blue and lifeless and evil like always, so you know he can't be up to anything good each time he burns your body to a crisp with his stoic serial killer gaze. It's even worse when he smirks at you while he does it, that's how you know the torture you'll endure at his hands will be slow and painful, and he's already delighting in his demented plans before putting them into action.

Kaiser attempts to maintain his stare down with you while he makes his way out of the training room and you stay behind putting away whatever you need to, observing him in confusion and fear. Though, of course, you would not admit to something as lowly as letting Kaiser intimidate you out loud (since you don't want to partake in an action that seems to give him a mental orgasmic feeling), at least to yourself, you can concede you're on edge.

… That is, until his dedication towards being a scrote proves detrimental even to him because he runs into the wall, hitting about half his face. It seems tormenting you is too distracting for a sick sadist like Kaiser. He palms at his skin, probably seething to himself while trying to seem cool and collected and totally not on the brink of shitting himself in anger on the outside, as if such a small thing as a solid wall could not faze him or even cause him pain.

You point and laugh at him. Kaiser pretends not to see you and walks out tall and proud like nothing happened. This will have to do as your revenge, for now.

#2 Initiate conversation

“Did you have a nice weekend?” asks Kaiser.

“It's Tuesday,” you reply, once again confused. Why is he talking to you, does he have nothing better to do.

“Right,” he says in a casual tone, like he didn't just ask you an irrelevant dumbass question. “The weather is nice.”

You ignore that one, but you can't help wondering if something is wrong with him and if this is an obscure call for help. Blackmail from a drooling fan perhaps? After all, it's unlike him to say anything so boring and ordinary, and you don't imagine he would make small talk with you unless it's a complicated code to signal that his life is in danger.

“What restaurant would you recommend?” Kaiser tries again.

“What?”

There's an uncomfortable silence during which you're just looking at each other, you perplexed and him expressionless, the previous guise of pleasantries and fake sweet smile wiped off. It is possibly even more uncomfortable than anything else that has unfolded between you two in the past. Then Kaiser says, “You know, I think you're an ingrate.”

“What?!”

“You’re not appreciative enough of my efforts.”

“For what?!”

Kaiser scoffs, averse to elaborating due to humiliation (either because of his apparent failure or because it's plain embarrassing to state his intentions when you don't seem receptive to them or because being outright on the matter requires him to express himself, which is in nature disgusting). Then you watch while he walks away from you in a moody fit.

Well, at least if he has the energy to act temperamental, that must mean he's not in any shittier spirits than usual. It is way less unnerving than his earlier civility, for one.

#3 Compliment them

Kaiser has no respect for personal space. Or more like he only deems his need for such important and disregards everyone else's. You know this.

But you can't lie in good conscience that he's gotten this close to you before, examining you, leaning in way too close. Close enough that you feel Ness planning your murder from across the field. Close enough to warrant a harassment complaint.

You assume Kaiser must be looking for miniscule flaws to fake laugh at like a missing eyelash or the fact that you have pores, but instead of doing what you predicted, after a long while of making you almost throw up from nerves — what's with this guy and staring at you like a microbe under a telescope so much? — he says, “You have beautiful sclera.”

???

You bristle at the sound of the strange thing he said. Unperturbed by your visibility negative reaction, Kaiser continues,

“And I love the way you look at me, like you want to kill me. It gives me a thrill.”

What's wrong with this guy? you think to yourself.

“Your bone structure can almost rival mine-”

“Kaiser, stop talking nonsense and go… back to doing something else somewhere away from me.”

“Hmph.” He backs off to a more socially appropriate distance, crossing his arms. “I see you still haven't fixed your attitude.”

“Me? I need to fix my attitude?! When you're the one acting like a depraved person?”

“Wow, if you think that's what I'm doing, you must not understand anything about the world at all,” he says in a condescending tone, smirking at you with played up amusement.

“You have some nerve! Kaiser, go away before I take advantage of my position and put rat poison in your water bottle. It'd suit you to go out that way.”

“You're so obsessed with me.”

After that declaration, he whips around to make a dramatic and majestic exit, with a deliberate swat of his hair to your face. Maybe you'll be spitting out gross blue strands after this. You fume to yourself.

#4 Light touches

Once again, Kaiser is plaguing you. Today's method of inflicting trauma seems to involve more gratuitous touching than usual.

He awkwardly drags his hand over your shoulder.

You stare at him as if this is the most scandalous offense you've been on the receiving end of. Maybe it's not, but he's been walking on your nerves all day with other such inept attempts at caresses. “Did you just wipe something on my sleeve?”

“What?” he asks in a flat tone. “No. Are you dumb?”

Your expression doesn't show anything other than incredulity. Certainly not the fluster and admiration Kaiser is hoping for.

You then go right back to ignoring him like he is dust. This is outrageous, he's going to be sick. Kaiser takes fate into his hands and embraces you stiffly from behind (once again showing his lack of etiquette).

Startled, you ask, “Are you gonna put me in an octopus hold?”

“No? Do you always have to assume I'm going to do something bad to you?”

“Well, it's not like you ever do anything good.”

Kaiser lets go of you even though he doesn't want to — truly a moment of his character development you're witnessing —, his arms dropping limply by his sides while he frowns at you like a kicked kitty. Exquisite manipulation tactic, however, you're not moved by the display at all.

He says, “I still think you need to fix your attitude.”

You roll your eyes and let him have his little moment with his snide remark. An immediate retort hasn't come to mind after all, and you'd rather play it off as disregarding him than admit to the shameful lack of a comeback. It's not your fault his incomprehensible behavior leaves you speechless, anyway.

#5 Be there for them

Kaiser decides to skip this one as it's even more vile than when he lowered himself enough to the point he tried to hug you.

#6 Use humor

Kaiser stands in front of you, trying to think of something funny to say, which isn't an activity he engages in often (as the comedy of his existence is often unintentional or manifests in the form of being a bitch for no reason and antagonizing people unprovoked). During this process, you're once more forced to endure the weight of his unrelenting, vacant stare.

“I have a controversial football opinion,” says Kaiser, finally.

“As usual.”

“The ball is sentient and it hates getting kicked around like that.”

You tilt your head, not understanding why Michael Kaiser would say something so… silly? “Well, I'm sure you take some delight in imagining that,” you say in an unsure voice, not knowing how else to reply.

Kaiser smirks at you in an attempt to shrug off his latest failure and feign casualness. Then he tries again because his spirit is as tenacious as his gawping. “You should always make sure to distinguish between ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I apologize’ at a funeral.”

“Why? Do you speak from experience? Is that a little slip up from when you attended the funeral of one of all those people you killed?”

“No. I think if I killed someone, I'd be the type to facetiously say ‘rest in peace,’ just to piss them off in the afterlife.”

“I can imagine you doing that. Good for you I guess.”

Kaiser snickers to himself — maybe because he's enjoying imagining all his enemies dead — and plays with his fingers in an almost nervous manner, which makes you question if you're perhaps hallucinating. He ponders if he's funny or not.

#7 Text them

(04:55 AM) Michael Kaiser: [5 image attachments]

(06:32 AM) You: why are you sending me shirtless mirror pics lol

(06:46 AM) Michael Kaiser: Wrong person

(06:50 AM) You: did you mean to send that to ness

(07:02 AM) Michael Kaiser: No

(07:05 AM) Michael Kaiser: ???

(07:43 AM) You: well you only talk to me and him so if it's not for us who else could it be for

(07:44 AM) You: lol don't tell me you did that to seem sought after haha

(07:48 AM) Michael Kaiser: Let's stop talking for a little while.

#8 Give them attention

Kaiser gives you plenty of attention, and he doesn't even make you do tricks for it. Like for example right now, when he's poking you in the ribs while you're trying to fill out something unfinished on the tablet during your break.

You slap his hand away. “Kaiser. What.”

He moves onto poking your neck instead, forcing you to wiggle away from him as he continues his antics despite your dodging.

“What do you want?!”

“I just don't want you to feel neglected by me,” he says in a tone he probably believes is suave.

“I don't.”

“You're trying to seem brave, but your eyes give you away.”

“You're crazy,” you say, not even in shock or embarrassment, but rather a very apparent disorientation. “If anything I've been overdosing on you lately.”

“There’s never enough of me. You don't need to pretend just to humble me. It's not cute nor clever.”

“Kaiser, quit it before I cut off your finger and poke you with it instead.”

To your surprise, Kaiser stops. You watch him warily for a few seconds before feeling safe enough to turn around and try doing your work again.

Kaiser pokes you on the sides.

#9 Playful teasing

“You look like shit today,” greets Kaiser with a smirk, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Did they let the clown academy off early today?”

“Kaiser, you're so immature.” You shrug him off. Usually you'd allow the contact, granted he's not being rude or creepy, but he's done the former a nanosecond into the conversation, so you're not going to stand for it.

“I assume you're stupid or uptight enough to take me seriously. That's always fun.”

“Trust me, you're the last person in the world I'd take seriously.”

“No, but really, you're quite unencumbered by the standards of beauty today.”

“So I'm ugly and stupid? Awesome, thank you so much.”

His traitorous hand which had grabbed at your shoulder earlier moves lower around your waist instead, pulling you closer. At his actions, you squint your eyes and look at him as if he is a dirty wet sock. “Don't worry, I'd still take you though.”

This horrendous thing he just uttered makes you gape in shock. Then it morphs into disgust, and you smack him on the arm and retch at him.

#10 Mention being single

You expect something horrific to happen this time when Kaiser approaches you, but instead, out of the blue, unprovoked, nobody asked or moved — as most things are with him — he announces, “By the way, I'm single.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, not sure what to do with this information. “Yeah, that figures.”

“What do you mean? Tons of people want me, but I don't want them back. That's why I'm available, that's all.”

“Don't explain yourself to me, I don't care,” you say flippantly, crossing your arms and shifting your weight to one leg.

“Well, you should.”

“Sure, Mr. ‘Sorry Wrong Chat.’” You snort.

Kaiser upturns his nose and glares at you. “You’re mischaracterizing me and presenting that whole situation wrong. For one, I didn't say sorry.” Then he scoots closer to you, grinning without smiling with his eyes whatsoever. “Anyway, I'll forgive you. As long as you remember the main point, which is that I'm single.”

“I know, dipshit.”

“Wow, can't you rub your little brain cells together, the whole two of them, and understand what I've been getting at?” Kaiser snaps, frustrated that the fruits of his incompetent labor aren't ready for reaping yet.

“It's not my fault you can't say whatever you have to say properly,” you say, delivering your line in a pointed tone so that he can grasp the implication you're making this time.

Kaiser blinks with the small frown still on his face, a remnant of his earlier scowling. Then realization sets in and his lips form a thin line instead. His cheeks color slightly.

You're fucking with him on purpose.

___

Some slop I wrote on my phone on vacation in between drinking and sweltering in my own gooch in the sun. Enjoy or don't

[starshipsofstarlord]

“thought you were mad at me.”

“it’s a hate boner, i swear.”

summary. you and daryl, despite fighting and surviving side by side for years, have always had a tendency to get on each others nerves. the one thing he hates more than your recklessness however, is seeing you hurt

warnings. boners duh, swearing, mentions of death and turning, daryl skinning an animal, feelings, daryl being a boob man, no smut, slight angst, love confessions, implied smut

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

There were many possible things that you could do to enrage Daryl Dixon; you’d been comrades for many years and it would have been suspicious if the two of you hadn’t found a way to flawlessly get on each others nerves.

Currently you were seated in your station of living, ass planted on a kitchen chair as you endured silent treatment from the archer whom was skilfully removing the outer layer of flesh and fur from a lifeless badger.

Your arms crossed upon the aged oak of the table as you silently criticised the lack of noise - the air was tense and riddled with thick annoyance, it was difficult to breathe through. To Daryl’s dismay, your fingernails danced in an attempted rhythm upon the surface of which that were layer atop of, creating a chorus of taps that were audible within the quiet room.

The sound filled his ear drums, and his attention drew away from the black and white striped creature that was in the process of having its fur stripped from its lifeless flesh upon the counter, and he irritatedly gritted his bottom row of teeth. He was becoming tired of your reckless habits, and the fact that you cared not for making one sorry mistake that would risk your life.

Despite the countless chances that he had had, he’d never told you of the feelings that he quietly harboured towards you, he kept them locked away from your knowledge, afraid that if he were to open up, he would only lose you, or that you would reject him for his deep infatuation. And that scenario was already on the verge of taking place, you’d been foolish, and luckily escaped with only scrapes and a few bruises.

But he was angry at your carelessness, it was as though you didn’t care whether you continued to live or died. His knife slipped across the badger’s skin, creating a thin red line through the mammal’s corpse as he stared down at it, hoping the morbid sight would distract him, though the sight didn’t sway him from being mildly aware of your presence.

Each fibre of his body was tense, he knew that you were hurt, somewhere on your body that he wasn’t certain of, but you hid the destination, which only brewed furthermore worry in his heart and chest. What if you were bitten? That would be something that he would never forgive himself for, that he hadn’t been there to protect you from the most gruesome process that a human could experience.

You would either turn into a cannibalistic monster that had an imperishable thirst for anything that breathed, or you would need a deadly pressure to your brain to prevent the walker transformation from completing itself in the vessel of your body.

It was an incurable disease, and you were all infected one way or another, but the bite would only enforce the burden of becoming one of them to a faster process. Daryl’s brain was haywire with emotions, his hand forced a tighter grasp around the knife, until he released it from his grip, placing it beside the spoils of his hunt.

He whipped around, glaring at you as you seemed undisturbed by the catastrophic ramblings that his brain was swirling in by its lonesome. Your brow arched in contempt, as you hid a smirk as you had seemed to make a crack in his brooding. But instead of his silence, there was a riddle of careful treading in his determined steps that slowly but intently made their route towards you.

Instead of being flabbergastered by his sudden change in exterior motives, you remained exactly where you were, fearless of the concoction of emotions that were emitting upon his face. Your hands continued their dance, precipitating farther exasperation to coil around the stealthy archer.

“Show me.” Daryl’s tone was brisk and harsh as they fell efficiently from his lips, and you ogled at them discreetly, employing the thought of them upon your own in your imagination. With a toying smile sprawled upon your lips, you cocked your head in query, stepping up onto your feet, allowing the entirety of your weight to fall upon them.

“Show you what? How to speak to a woman, because your tactics really aren’t working Dixon?” Not everything was a joke, this was a serious situation to him, yet you could not fathom that! Your words only made him enraged with your lacking will to look after yourself. It befuddled each cell in his body to think with common sense that you had managed to live this long, but he threw that building monologue away and as far as possible from flowing off his tongue.

He cared and that was all he wanted to show you, but it was impossible when you were so… impossible yourself! “The wound y/n. I swear ta god you better not be hidin’ a bite.” The hissing undertone of Daryl’s voice shocked you, whilst during past events he had made comments of his distaste for your methods of ‘getting things done’, he had never called you out so directly.

A pang in your chest told you how much you resented him using that tone to address you, but you shook it off, understanding that he presumed that you were destined sooner rather than later to meet a set fate. “Never took you for a religious man Daryl.” You gulped in your efforts to smother your blossoming timidness, hunching your shoulders as you pushed down on your confidence to make eye contact with the man. “And I’m not bitten,” you huffed, refraining from rolling your eyes, “I can prove it to you if you want.”

“Yeah, I do wan’ tha’.” He sternly replied, and all of a sudden you felt vulnerable. You rubbed your lips together anxiously, before reaching down and bringing your hands to the end of your shirt, beginning to peel it over your head, throwing the material that now hid little from sight on the table. In the moment you felt no regret for opting to wear a bra, but you still felt the need to surround your arms around your chest, which only drew more attention to your breasts.

You craned your neck, gouging his reaction as you turned to angle your ribs to his eye-line, the prominent flush of pink and purple bruising painting your side in a tie dye artwork effect. His lips parted, as his baby blues turned their focus from their rude excavation of your subtle cleavage to your side, his pupils wildly darting around the area with both relief and disdain.

“Ah, shit.” He rubbed his face with his large palm, as he realised that another part of his body continued to be distracted by his the other parts of your body that were teasing him with their supple beauty. “We should see if there’s any ice in the infirmary.” He stated, awkwardly feeling encased in the roomy kitchen. “I’m sorry, didn’ mean to make ya feel like ya had to show me.”

He felt stupid. So fucking stupid. Whilst he was never brought up in that way, he always tried to be respectful towards women, and he respected you more than most general people. If he were to voice his certain love of you now, or any when after this situation, he would look like an utter idiot.

“It’s okay.” Your voice sounded smaller now, and hated that he was the one that had burst your bubble of troublesome words. “I understand, enough of us are no longer here. You needed to make sure, and I appreciate that Dar.” You bowed your head, and luckily you were looking at your own feet, Daryl thought, as he felt compressed in his pants.

“I’ll go get ya some ice, and some pain killers.” Daryl was prepared to rush off, but as he was about to brush past you to do the errands to treat you that he had just listed, your arm swung, as your hand caught ahold of his wrist, dragging him into your personal space. On any other heart warming situation he wouldn’t have minded, you’d hugged before during hard times, but not when he had a… problem.

Instantly your y/e/c eyes shot in the direction of his face that was blooming into the shade of a beetroot. You had realised, you couldn’t not have. “Thought you were mad at me.” You teased, and Daryl felt the remainder of his body grow stiff as he released you. He would never live this down, you would never let him forget this.

“It’s a hate boner, I swear.” He attempted to save himself from your prodding smugness, however he knew all too well that was a losing battle. Your face returned to its coy assertion, aiming your mischievous smirk towards him - his erect cock was your fault, that was obvious. And you had been on a road too long without even hinting that you felt something more than seeing him as found family.

To once have thought you deserved happiness would have sounded like a sickening joke, and you would have maniacally laughed at the delirious prospect, but your hue of vibrant damage from the impact that had clashed with your side, and Daryl’s morbid assumption had reminded you that life was truly too short to waste any scrap of time.

“If you forget about the ice,” you deflected from the ache that pinched your bloodstream, “then maybe you can forget about that badger on the side too and prove that you’re not breaking a swear. What goods a ‘hate boner’ if you don’t get to prove how much you allegedly hate me?”

“Could never hate ya.” Daryl leant down and placed a peck upon your forehead, as his hand ghosted against your cheek, brushing your bottom lip with his rough padded thumb. “Now settle down, ya need some pain killers woman, I ain’t playing games no more. I ain’t lettin’ ya pretend you’re fine, can see you’re not.” He glanced down at the large bruise once again and physically winced; he knew you were in pain, anybody would be with such an infliction of harsh force.

“Then how about we stop this game for once and for all?” You weren’t sure if your words were for him or you, but nevertheless you drew your faces closer, allowing the tips of your noses to brush. “I’ve loved you since- I can’t even remember when I realised it, it just happened. And from then on, it’s something I can’t shake, and I don’t want to.” You confessed open heartedly, putting the secrecy that you had hidden for so long on the table.

Daryl felt his heart jump out of his chest, sure you’d make some infectiously teasing remarks at his expense, but he never thought that a woman like you would have the desire to be with a redneck tracker who had been born into a life that already had its share of issues. “I-“ Daryl took a deep breath that filled his wide chest, as he realised that this was the moment that he felt as though he had waited eons for. “I love ya, have done since the first time I saw ya. Couldn’ get ya outta my mind, jus’ wasn’t sure that someone like you could ever love someone like me…”

“Trust me Daryl, you can be more sure about it than your hate boner.” A laugh tumbled from your lips, and whilst Daryl adored the sound more than the tapping that your fingers had done on the table, he decided to shut you up. With his hand on finding purchase finally on your cheek, he pulled you in, meeting your lips as your mouths melted together, his opposing hand hovering over your extreme bruising as though he could protect it from the air itself.

The kiss was filled with each memory he held of you, each flashed like a tribute in his mind behind his closed eyes, as he finally felt shockwaves of passion flow between you. It was the best thing that he had experienced since the outbreak had began, and each moment of turmoil and agitation was worth it. He was finally home, with you, the person who accepted him wholeheartedly.

[menalez]

i don’t think i should have to preface every single time i disagree with blatant racist rhetoric on here with “i’m a woman of colour btw. i’m from a “muslim country” btw. i lived most of my life in the middle east btw. i work at a psychological treatment centre helping refugees btw. i have a loving girlfriend of 3 years btw. we have a beautiful 2 year old cat btw. im a full-time master’s student btw. i live in europe and have lived in the US too. i have primarily lived among refugees in germany. i speak german. i see the racism in germany. i’m dark-skinned. i’m middle eastern. men of every race have been misogynistic to me. i oppose islam.” etc just to be taken seriously. framing woc IN EUROPE criticising racism FROM EUROPEANS about the situation IN EUROPE as ridiculous lifeless unlovable losers is just ??? okay? thanks? let’s talk again in 1 year when AfD is in power and u act like the rhetoric u backed up had nothing to do with it.

[woncon]

part one: the sunscreen master

pairing: poly!stray kids x gn!reader

You only have one fan at home. It's a cruel thing. But the water is for everyone! The lake water is cooling, and you can relax with your boys. You can lay out on the mat, compete in swimming, or even make offers that wouldn't be appropriate for a grandmother swimming nearby to hear. There's a lot going on this day: injuries, bets and a kiss fest. The nine of you brushing the edge of indecency, like waves on the rocks off the shore. It's really wholesome.

genre: mini-series, fluff, suggestive, crack/humor, summer fic, established relationship, polyamory, a day on the beach

warnings: jisung dreams about priest jeongin (he's lucky), men compete for chest groping, sunscreen, like a lot, one twilight-reference

word count: 4.1K

a/n: shoutout to @honeytwo for her work with this big chunk of words. thank you! 💗

also, don't get sunburned, guys. protection is important.

summer go loco / stray kids mlist / [part 2]

It was a warm day. Very warm. The sun decided to stay true to the lines of ZEROBASEONE's Sweat. Oh, baby, I'll make you sweat, sweat, sweat, sweat, sweat.

Chan got the fan out for you to use. He took it into the living room where most of you were gathered.

Jeongin was mopping his forehead with his T-shirt, Minho was fanning himself with his tank top, Jisung was twisting and settling in one of the armchairs in agony, and you were deep in thought about taking off your shorts or not. When the four of you spotted the sweaty Chan's acquisition, you burst out in grateful sighs and cheers.

"Hyung, you’re a god!"

"I love you!"

"I'll marry you!"

Chan smiled modestly and embarrassed, plugging the instrument in, which flooded the room with cold air.

Jisung crawled closer to the cold airwaves that came from the fan on the carpet and lay down in front of it, grinning in satisfaction. His wet skin clung to the soft material like he was a lifeless snail, but he didn't seem to mind. In the meantime, Chan occupied the vacated chair. And he clung to its fabric. Clinging was an universal factor that day.

The euphoric sound just heard made the rest of the guys curious, as they sought to get some refreshing, less stuffy air through the bedroom window. They peered into the living room and decided to stay. After all, it's easier to stand in front of a fan with a rotating head than to squeeze in a group at the window. Hyunjin threw himself down on the sofa next to Jeongin, Felix chose the other armchair and Seungmin lay on top of you who were on the sofa. You all squeaked in chorus.

"Y-you're heavy, Min hyung." Jeongin tried not to die. Seungmin grunted an offended growl, and rolled over so that his buttocks were against the speaker's stomach.

Changbin soon appeared as well. Shirtless, might I add, so that everyone could thoroughly admire the panorama of his upper body down to his waistline. He thought it would be funny to tease Jisung, so he climbed on top of the boy lying in peace and tickled him.

"Hey, stop it! Bin! Hey! CHANGBIN!"

Everyone watched the events with interest. Would there be a tickle fight? And if not, will Jisung retaliate for his treatment? You were so focused that your grip on Seungmin's legs loosened. He was also wearing shorts and sweating. Those legs almost slipped out of your grip.

Jisung laughed as he struggled until Changbin finally let go. In revenge, Jisung elbowed the giggling individual in the side and then fled to the opposite side of the rug.

It occurred to you that it would be a lot easier to hold Seungmin in water, you'd just have to slap him on a floatie and push him. Then the perfect idea came to you.

"How about we go for a swim?"

There were no objections - not like a few days ago when Changbin was hungry at 2am and begged someone to walk him down to the convenience store for chocolate milk and buns. You agreed to take a dip in the nearby lake. Once the decision was made, you left the living room to get ready. The last to leave turned off the heroic fan.

Minho and Seungmin were responsible for the floaties, you for the sunscreen, Chan for the slippers, Jeongin for the bathing gear, Felix for the groceries, Hyunjin for the towels, and Jisung for the sunglasses. You were ready in fifteen minutes, all of you in the car while your stuff was in the trunk.

And your group was on the way.

Many of you took a nap during the drive. Even Jisung was tired from the active torture of the heat. For a while you memorized the names of the villages and towns you passed through, during this activity you leaned your head against the window, but Changbin, who was lying next to you, put his arm around your shoulders and hugged you when he noticed that you were asleep. He wrapped an arm over the boy on his other side, too. The lucky guy was Jisung, who was mewling contentedly, because everyone is happy to have their face pressed against Changbin's chest, the best sleeping pillows in the world. Changbin also fell asleep to the soothing sound of the engine.

Six of them stayed awake. Chan, the driver, Felix the DJ, Minho who caressed Jeongin's hair, Jeongin who played on his phone, Seungmin who was eating a sandwich, and Hyunjin who was snacking on Seungmin's food to annoy him - in a very loving, quiet way of course, as to not disturb Chan's driving.

After you arrived, getting out the car was a difficult process. Not because you were out of the mood for swimming, as it was just as blistering hot as before, but because many of you stepped out onto the concrete of the parking lot half asleep. In a sticky half-asleep, stretching-yawning state.

Felix and Seungmin supported the dazed Jisung. The boy told them his dream about his wedding with Chan and Minho, which was greeted with smiles, although Felix was not pleased that he had become a bridesmaid - but rather that he had kissed the priest, Jeongin, and one of the witnesses, you, before the ceremony.

Changbin couldn't get out of the car. He tried, but with a sniff, he fell again and again on your shoulder. Finally, the kisses and wake-up monologues of others who had already woken up got him out.

You, meanwhile, whined in your seat.

"Hmn, twenty more minutes! Or ten. I'll settle for five..." you begged until Minho was lying on your chest, having given up on your wake-up call. From there, you were tied down to being a good support and stroking his soft locks.

Seungmin tried to similarly lean into your chest from the opposite side once Minho had given up on pushing you out of the car, but you slapped him on the arm with an angry face. You muttered about trespassers in the hills of your chest.

"I didn't mean that way!" defended Seungmin. He fell silent when you laughed.

"It was just a joke. C’mere!"

Seungmin rolled his eyes, but snuggled up to you anyway. You now had two boys on either side of you. They blocked the way for the others to get to you. It wasn't how you'd originally planned it, but it was a diabolical plan to buy you some more time to sleep.

You have not taken into account the danger of the previous row of seats. Chan grinned as he squeezed between the two seats, grabbed your cheek and covered you with cupping kisses. You'd have been a fool to resist, even if he had your full attention, and you were being pushed further and further away from your dream. Thanks to Chan's skilled wake-up technique, within minutes you were outside in the blazing sun, missing the coolness of the air conditioning. At least you were awake and remembered why you came: to take a dip.

You were ready to start the next phase: going ashore, also known as beaching, as it's more pleasant. The circus consisted of uninflated floaties, containers of food, drinks, bathing suits, towels, bags, and a few blankets.

Jisung complained that the air conditioning froze his legs and he couldn't feel his toes in his solid black slippers, so he ended up with the props in his hands on Seungmin's back, needless to say, very contentedly.

Jeongin went his own way: he went the wrong way about three times. When Chan got tired of calling the poor guy, he took his hand to stop him from wandering off.

Hyunjin paused every few minutes because he didn't want to wait until everyone was camped out, he wanted to wear the designer, heart-shaped sunglasses he got from you for his birthday last year. Finally, with Minho's help, he fished them out and put them on his nose with a satisfied smile.

"Well, now everyone will be looking at you..." Minho hummed appreciatively.

Hearing that, you almost dropped the hand pump you were entrusted with. Thanks to Felix's proximity and quick reaction, that didn't happen. You threw your head back and cast a suspicious glance at the boys who were seeking the attention of others. Felix also made a surprised face.

"You guys are everyone, stop looking at me like that!" Minho snorted mockingly.

"And your attention is perfectly enough," Hyunjin added.

"Very good." You turned back with an angelic smile. Felix let Hyunjin hug his shoulders, so you concluded that he wasn't angry either.

Changbin was still a sleepy zombie when his stomach started to growl.

"I'm hungry!" he announced with a grimace, and he stumbled over to Felix, who had the food bag. Felix patted him on the head and promised to feed him as soon as they were settled. In the meantime, he left him in your care, and you expertly tried to distract him by talking about everything that wasn't food-related.

You found a cute grassy area where you could spread out like little rascally donkeys and where you didn't disturb other beachgoers peace. Everyone set down the things they had carried with small sighs. Seungmin made the loudest noise as Jisung's slippers hit the ground and he was able to straighten up properly again.

Felix fished out a chocolate croissant for Changbin in the heat of the moment the bag hit the ground. Changbin ate it with grateful passion.

You took turns getting dressed in the changing rooms set up for the purpose. The more refined ones had already put on their swimming clothes at home, but you, for example, had a dressing-room circuit, which you quickly did to help with the beach chores.

For example, you put one blanket on the grass, then another, then a third. You always had to take into account that on a nice day, everyone goes out to sunbathe, and in this case you need a lot of space. Your huge bedroom bed could tell a lot about this (the mattress shop owner was stunned when Minho shared the required size with him. The guy said that he had never been asked for a mattress that big, but he would comply. And he did indeed put together a mattress that is about the size of two California king beds.)

You threw out the towels for the soft stuff, and got your own sunglasses. You put them on with pride. With your swimwear, complete with your mango patterned t-shirt, you had the perfect summer image. And to make the summer vibe even more appropriate, you felt you were sweating quite a bit and needed to get in the water as soon as possible or you'd end up in a puddle and that would be the end of you. All you'd have left would be your clothes and sunglasses.

You had to splash as soon as possible.

Of course, who the hell wants to splash alone when you've got eight hot boyfriends, so you set about preparing those hot boyfriends for the water: slathering them with sunscreen. It was the most rewarding task you'd ever attempted on the beach. You got a knot in your stomach as you grabbed the sunscreen from one of the bags. You squeezed a squirt into the palm of your hand. The pleasant, soft scent reminded you again that this is what sunshine could smell like.

Jisung and Seungmin have already started getting half-naked. Seungmin was still aching at his waist, and Jisung was stroking the sore area guiltily. You picked them as the first victims.

"If we give it a massage, will it help?" you asked Seungmin, smiling, and held up your sunscreened palm.

The boy nodded. You gave some of the cream to Jisung as well, and together you gently squeezed the likely stuck area. You worked very co-ordinated, like a real team. As your palms pressed up to spread the sunscreen all over the spine and shoulder blades, Jisung stroked the cream into Seungmin's waist.

Felix got up from beside Changbin to help with the 'smear Seungmin' project.

"Better now?" he asked gently, pressing a kiss to the nodding boy's forehead. He, too, got cream, which he smeared all over the other's neck, chest and abdominal wall. Seungmin closed his eyes and the soft moans turned to sighs as his three lovers gave his body pleasant touches. Seungmin was just like that: teasing everyone, usually not asking for touches because when you touched him, he simply melted.

You planted a kiss on his forehead, then gave Felix a sweetly cheeky look.

"Strip, baby!"

"Your wish is my command."

In that moment Hyunjin looked up, pumping the mattress with greater vehemence at the sight, even causing his glasses to slide down the tip of his nose.

You rubbed Felix's nicely arched back, with Seungmin helping from the front. Jisung was the next, whom you left in the care of the others. You yourself sat on the blanket with Changbin. He was still snacking there.

"Want some?" He offered his last two bites. You nodded.

Changbin fed you with care, as your hands were fit for nothing but sticky groping. You used them on Changbin appropriately, massaging his shoulder blades as well. You also devoted a lot of time to his huge biceps, to prevent them from sunburn. And as with the first chest you touched that day, well, you spent a lot of time there too. All up by those muscular tits, all up by that worked-out, hard, drool-inducing abs. You were careful, of course, knowing that Changbin's chest was a sensitive area.

The boy kissed your cheek. You smiled lovingly at him, and it was as if you were alone. But not anymore. A tired body, Jeongin, happened to fall on the blanket next to you with his arms outstretched. He was followed by a black tank top, which fell next to his head. Not his own, he was wearing his t-shirt. You looked up, and Minho was standing over you. Half naked, holding out his hand.

"Sunscreen, please." He had quite many beads of sweat on him, but at least one of the mats was ready. Chan was getting the next one prepared for the next pump.

You didn't let Changbin take the tube from you. In truth, you yourself found it hard not to comply with Minho's every wish when he looked down on you like that, but you persisted because there are limits. You just happened to be the sunscreen master that day or something. You didn't want to pass up the opportunity to grope.

"As if." You scrambled to your feet and held your palms ready for action again. In fact, you curled your fingers to make the message even clearer: get the boobs here!

And with that, you got down to work. You were really into it. Minho's muscles under your skin were hypnotizing you. What a great thing sunscreen was! You noticed how sexy Minho's sideways smile and the look in his eyes were, even though he was laughing at you.

"I need to make sure your belly doesn't burn, okay?"

"Okay," he shrugged. "Enjoy yourself."

"I don't–" The look on Minho's face as he poked his cheek with his tongue drowned out your words. You sighed in surrender. "I might be enjoying myself. But anyone else would do it if they were me!"

As if to confirm your words, Changbin stared longingly at Minho from the blanket.

"What is it, cutie? You want to smear me too?" asked Minho in a mournful voice.

Changbin nodded enthusiastically. You didn't want to deprive him of the opportunity to touch Minho. You were a fair and loving sunscreen master after all. You helped him stand up, then pressed some cream on his hands. You watched with pride as he rubbed his palms together, then placed them on Minho's shoulders. You must have looked like a contented matchmaker, smiling and hugging the sunscreen.

The matchmaker, however, did not expect to be grabbed at the hips out of nowhere and pulled backwards so that the owner of the hands could drop his chin on their shoulder and then roll up the bottom of their shirt.

"And who's going to smear you?" Hyunjin asked.

And, whoosh, he'd already pulled the shirt off you, and there you were, wearing nothing but your bathing equipment. Changbin whistled appreciatively, then returned to rub Minho all over.

"What's with the passion?" you blinked in disbelief.

"I just wish to have the honor." His made-for-brush fingers plucked the tube from your hand, and you could hear the hissing sound of splashing sunscreen. You took the bottle back to grip it. You had to grab it when Hyunjin touched you.

Hyunjin did it in an understanding way. His hands worked your sleeping back, you could not help sighing in delight. You were almost dizzy on the blanket

"Don't stop..." you begged.

It turned out that you can enhance the pleasure. As soon as Changbin finished with Minho, the latter stepped in front of you. He squeezed himself some sunscreen to smear on your side. His thumb slowly worked its way around your hip. It made your eyeslashes flutter and your thighs tremble.

Hyunjin noticed the change immediately, scrunched you up jealously, pulled you to him, and gave Minho a defiant look.

"Mine."

Those nearby cried out at this bold statement.

"All I have to do is hold my toe differently and my slipper will smack you in the forehead, you selfish hyung!" warned Jeongin, lifting his foot at a really threatening angle.

"I mean, I'll smear them," Hyunjin corrected.

"You wish, pretty boy," Minho replied.

You've established that there was chest inflation. Yours has become quite a valuable piece of land. But as long as you have a say, you're not going to let these two fight it out.

"Guys–" you started, but Jeongin's dedicated shouting interrupted you.

"Hyung! Don't start pumping! You just blew the biggest one. You need to rest!"

Chan had indeed planned to do everything himself. Felix, Jisung and Seungmin had undertaken to relieve him of pumping, but as it happened, he was adamant and kept pumping.

"I can put the cream on myself!" Taking advantage of the commotion, you stepped away from the two competing gentlemen and smeared the cream left on your hands on your belly to prove it.

"Will you put some on me, please?" Jeongin raised his hand.

Well, you couldn't say no, so you took the opportunity, and the bottle, kneeling down next to him. Jeongin usually bathed in a T-shirt. This time he didn't indicate that he would have wanted it any other way, so you didn't even attempt to take off his shirt, and just squeezed enough cream on your slick palms to cover his face, neck and arms. You took a peaceful seat beside him and began to cover his exposed body parts.

Jeongin stroked your wrist first. His face turned innocently towards the sun, his eyes closed. You got caught up in the thorough work. Suddenly, you found his palms sliding all the way to your shoulders, not planning to stop, reaching your neck. Jeongin was already looking at you. You blinked questioningly into those beautiful, deep brown eyes, but they didn't reveal much.

Meanwhile, his long fingers touched your collarbone and didn't hesitate to go lower. Your eyes widened, blushing, you wanted to pull away, for you had planned to be fair and cover that area yourself. True, you had your back to the majority of the others, but still.

"Easy, baby. I'm not smearing you... I'm just touching you," he whispered, a sly smile forming on his lips.

It was as if Jeongin had read your mind. He was mindblowing. You had just put the white material on his forearm, and Jeongin touched you even more boldly. You enjoyed it. Of course you did when Jeongin touched you, but you also resented that he had played the others like that. Your resolve was also ruined. Before this groping could get out of hand, you let go of him and turned to the junction where most of your boys were.

"I changed my mind." Damn, fine, you thought. If they want to fight, they'll get it. "Whoever kisses Innie first gets to cream the front of me."

Jeongin shouted in surprise. He threw himself to the side when Changbin knelt down like a knight to attempt a kiss. Jeongin couldn't rest afterwards, he struggled into a stance as Minho darted towards him. Jeongin was forced to run away. He ran as if his life depended on it. He left both his slippers behind.

But he couldn't leave the others.

"Innie, it's only a kiss," Jisung persuaded him.

"Stick your soft cheek in here, let me give you a smooch!" cooed Changbin, as if the contest was to see who could embarrass the fleeing boy more than catch him.

"Leave me alone! I don't want your spit!"

He rounded a tree and immediately Hyunjin and Felix were about to attack him from two sides. With a frustrated battle cry, he backed away from the dudes charging towards him. He ran for a new route along the grassy bank. He couldn't go to the sandy bank, he would hurt his feet. His escape options were greatly reduced without his slippers. And he was alone against seven dedicated boys, who loved to baby him anyway.

"Innie-ah," Seungmin laughed as he framed Jeongin. "Stop running."

Jeongin didn't listen. In utter desperation, he jumped barefoot onto the gravel path. His face was writhing with a pained expression. Watching him from a distance, each step seemed to be like stepping over tiny pieces of lego. You both appreciated his perseverance and pitied his suffering. Perhaps you shouldn't have exposed him to this... What you didn't expect was that, after he'd been so eager to touch you, he wouldn't let the others get romantically close to him even for a second.

Chan rushed to his rescue, carrying Jeongin's slippers. He put them in front of him and even knelt down to help him get into them.

"Does it hurt much?" asked Chan, looking up at the persistent boy.

"Not anymore," Jeongin replied quietly. He had lost his fighting spirit at Chan's chivalrous gesture, and the others hadn't approached him since Chan appeared with the protective footwear.

When Chan stood up, Jeongin whispered something in his ear. Too far away to hear, in any case, Chan's face brightened at what he heard. The next moment, he pressed a light kiss on Jeongin's cheek.

The losers erupted in an ovation of dissatisfied voices. They huffed, pouted, grumbled, but there was nothing to be done. Chan had clearly won the contest. Now he could smear, and he could also come smearing, like a loaf of bread waiting for butter.

Chan sat down next to you and smiled, squeezing some sunscreen onto his palm. He was blushing so sweetly, and working so hard - driving, pumping and pumping, even getting the fan out - that it seemed to you that the others had softened in his direction and returned to their pre-race activities. In other words, pumping to the death.

"Come closer, Edward," you said to Chan, who was thoroughly prepared for your smearing.

"Edward?" he made a puzzled face.

"Look at you," you pointed. "You shine in the sunlight like a Twilight vampire!"

"Yeah!" Chan giggled. It was music to the ears.

He stroked your stomach first, quite affectionately. He didn't rush anywhere, moving over your skin with careful, soft touches. Then he pressed his creamy hand to your chest, softly caressing the white material there.

"Done! And I've only aged five years doing it," Seungmin reported as he released the hand pump. The last mattress was successfully inflated. Felix wiped the sweat beading on his forehead and tossed the doughnut mattress onto the pile. Then Hyunjin circled him with a hair tie and made a neat bun so that Felix's hair wouldn't hang in the water. You knew that Hyunjin had freshly washed his own blond locks and therefore didn't want them to get wet, but to see him taking the same care to keep Felix's intact warmed your heart.

Everyone was sunscreened and all the mats were ready. The sun was still blazing as if baking people was its main goal, or at least hobby. There were no questions of spending another unnecessary minute on the beach, but instead you all dived in.

stay taglist :: 💕@lemonn015

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Happy Ending | EXTRA 02 | Because I love you

Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 3,494

Warnings | +18, presence of a lot of blood, a dead body, Jungkook is absolutely crazy here, dark atmosphere, MC is deeply shocked, many tears, Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, anger, angst, smut dubcon, raw sex in the shower, vaginal penetration, yandere themes, touches and kisses, this is a yandere story, be careful.

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | You have finally discovered Jungkook's dark secret, are you ready to accept the man you have come to love?

➢ Author's Note | Happy birthday to me!!! 🥰🥰🥰

To celebrate I decided to post the second extra of Happy Ending, let me know if you like it! 💕

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @douknowbts, @aiiselle90210, @fewercascade , @mageprincess7, @m00njinnie, @get-that-brain-working, @whipwhoops

➢ EXTRA 01

➢ Main Story

➢ Spin - Off | Dark Moon || PJM

She really didn't want to ignore what Jungkook told her.

But she was alone in that new house, it was so dark, and the storm outside was terrifying her as it had not in a long time.

Something strange vibrated in the air that evening, something that moved under her skin like a snake and caused long chills of frost.

She clutched tightly with her other hand the gold ring that proved their marriage had taken place, it had been strange to see all those unfamiliar faces taking part in the ceremony, it had seemed to her more like a business meeting than actual nuptials, but the most important thing was being together, Jungkook had clutched at her all the time to make her understand.

Now she needed him, who was in the basement working on something, he had not told her exactly what he was working on, he had simply made her promise that she would not go down there for any reason in the world, with or without him.

Deglutinating slightly in front of the door in question, it was tall and dark, imposing and terribly menacing, she was about to turn back to their bedroom when a thunderclap far louder than the previous ones made her jump on the spot with a squeak, she grabbed the handle pulling it toward her and cast a glance at the dimly lit stairs that were supposed to lead downward.

With a sigh she took her first steps, barefoot and with only a thin nightgown to protect her from the drafts of that place, the further she went the more she could hear strange noises expanding throughout the flight of stairs, she squinted wondering what the hell her husband was up to.

"Jungkook?" she whispered with her arms wrapped around her own body in a vain attempt to protect herself from anything that might harm her.

Another painful noise to her strained ears left her speechless, maybe... maybe Jungkook had hurt himself?

She hastened her steps with anxiety painfully gripping her chest, flung open the small door that separated her from the smaller room, and what she saw left her breathless.

There was blood, so much blood, everywhere.

On the work table were scattered numerous weapons, all of them ominous-looking, but even more grotesque was the lifeless form of a man slumped badly in a chair, his feet were bound by a chain and his arms behind his back had received the same treatment, his dark hair and skin were premeared with red, viscous liquid, his swollen, ashen face confirmed what the girl was thinking. He was dead.

A high-pitched, shrill scream left her throat, she brought her trailing hands to her pale lips and began to take small steps backward, her breath coming less and less.

Who was he? No. Why was he there? What the hell had happened in there?!

She turned like lightning to run away from that horrific sight, but blocking her escape she found her husband himself, staring at her with a stern, icy, frightening expression. His imposing shoulders covered the door, preventing her from running away like a terrified mouse.

Y/N sobbed harshly at the sight of his bloodstained clothes; she could not believe it, he... he...

"You promised you'd never come down here," he said reproachfully, furrowing his brow and wondering why she had preferred to leave the warmth of their bed to go down into that hellhole.

Y/N shook her head, "N-No... I-I just wanted to... Please, let me out" she cried with less and less breath, trying to get as far away from him as possible, but in doing so she collided with the table. She was stuck.

Jungkook approached her slowly, holding a threadbare dishcloth in his hands, "Aish...look at your lovely little feet," he huffed, Y/N cast a glance at her bare feet, they were completely soiled, "You shouldn't have seen any of this," he continued with a twinge of displeasure in his gaze.

When he reached her Y/N found herself stiffening, afraid of a possible violent reaction, but nothing of what she feared happened.

Jungkook hugged her to himself, cradling her against his strong chest as if before his eyes he did not have a girl in the throes of a nervous cry, but only a puppy to comfort.

"You didn't have to find out like this, although I'm actually relieved...it's a part of me that I couldn't keep secret forever, I was tired of lying to you in fact," he murmured into her hair, leaving a tender kiss that didn't match the surroundings and situation.

"What does it all mean, Jungkook? What is going on? What are you doing?" she sobbed shakily, terribly shattered by the aberrant sight of the man behind her lifeless.

Jungkook tenderly caressed her cheeks, his expression softened by a note of adoration. Y/N was beautiful even with fear written all over her face.

"That's what I am, my love," he admitted, "I didn't want to scare you, so I never told you anything, I knew it would be hard for you to understand."

A light bulb went off in the young woman's brain, Seokjin and the evenings he made Jungkook spend away from home.

"You kill people," she huffed, lacking strength.

"I don't kill people, I deal with those who deserve punishment," he emphasized harshly, "They are bad men, Y/N...I just clean up."

Y/N cast another glance at the body, but had to look away immediately to prevent herself from vomiting her dinner, she staggered into her husband's arms, close to fainting.

The nauseating smell in the tiny room was making her feel sick.

"Was he a bad person, too?" she whimpered, praying for an affirmative answer, something to help her accept such a truth.

Her heart was torn.

Her husband was a murderer, but the love she felt for him was so strong and suffocating that, even with such knowledge weighing on her small shoulders, she was unable to turn away from him.

Jungkook's dark irises sparkled brightly, understanding the meaning behind his wife's words.

"He was, he hurt a lot of girls before I managed to catch him, I'm sorry I brought him here," he said truly regretful, "Our house should not be infected by certain beings, but tonight I had to make a break from the rule of not bringing work home."

He spoke of killing as to a job, Y/N did not know how long it had been going on or who he was working with, she just wanted to go back and forget whatever she had seen or heard that night.

"I...I don't know who you are," she murmured with tears in her eyes, "I don't know who you are and I'm afraid," she cried harder hitting him in the chest, she didn't even know what she was saying.

She felt split in two, she was scared but also very, very angry.

Why had he not told her such a thing earlier? Why had he forced her to discover his secret in such a revolting way?!

Jungkook let her do it without moving a single muscle; he knew too that it was difficult for her to accept it, but he was also sure that she would.

She was his woman, she would never let him down.

"I'm still the same, Y/N," he whispered in her ear, leaving a small kiss on her temple.

"Jungkook, I have to-" I have to get out of here.

"I'll clean up everything of course! Honey, I'm sorry...I know you hate to see dirt everywhere," he made crucified and sorry, Y/N could not believe her ears, according to him that was what was making her sick to her stomach?, "Come here," he hummed as he brought his face closer to the girl's face, took her gently by the cheeks and pressed his lips to the girl's, heedless of the blood on his fingers that soiled the soft skin, Y/N groaned in disgust.

"Jungkook, what the hell!"

"Y/N" the boy's dark, predatory eyes caged her, his lost expression troubled her, "I need you now," he begged grabbing her by the hips, pushing her against the table he badly scanned away the objects and made her lie down on that hard surface, not giving her a chance to disentangle herself from his grip, so strong was he.

Y/N screamed breathlessly, frightened and confused.

The boy towered over her with his entire size, adoring the sight of his wife now sharing the same secret with him.

"What do you want to do here?!" she shrieked in a high-pitched voice, looking around as if mad.

Her legs were unceremoniously spread wide, she peered breathlessly at her husband's lost face.

There was something they both loved to do sometimes, sex without foreplay.

There was something arousing about entering her still tight and rigid because they were too aroused to give themselves time, it was exciting the way she got wet quickly after the first thrusts, and Y/N loved feeling him hard and mighty in her.

Reduced as he was like that, he could not venture to touch her too much; therefore, he found it was the right time to take advantage of that wild way of joining.

"You like raw sex, don't you, love?" he asked without really expecting an answer, Y/N squeaked looking at him like he was crazy, "Take my cock," he growled leaving her speechless.

He forcefully pushed his taut erection against her covered core and Y/N shuddered breathlessly, her brain shut down at her husband's subtle growl.

"Don't make me repeat myself, sweetheart," he licked his wife's lips, cupping her face in his bloody hands, ignoring how the viscous liquid uncomfortably smeared the woman's soft skin.

She moved like a robot, unzipping his pants and pulling out Jungkook's heavy cock, he practically purred against her mouth, kissing her again, "Look at me, my love, just me" he murmured to her teary eyes, moved his hips against her hand, his cock already stiff and throbbing, spurring her on.

"Jungkook..." she pulled up with her nose, tightening her lips indecisively on what to do, watching the door behind her husband, "Please don't make me do it here," she pleaded, causing him to freeze.

He frowned, he had never forced her to take him and she had never refused sexual intercourse with him, finally fully understanding her discomfort.

He kissed her forehead, sighing against her warm skin, before pulling away disgruntled.

If Y/N thought she was finally free, she had to think again, in front of her Jungkook began to strip off his soiled clothes, throwing them to the ground with a resounding slap! Soon his perfect, blood-stained body was completely naked, heedless of the confusion printed on his young wife's face.

He unceremoniously took her in his arms, Y/N dared not move to refuse the contact, aware that Jungkook could keep calm up to a certain point and then... there was that dark curiosity that made her wonder what he would do next.

They walked back up the stairs to the basement, Y/N took one last look at the lifeless body in the room and shuddered, that would be an image she would never forget, she let her forehead fall back on the boy's smoothly sculpted chest wearily, casting a glance at the hallway they were walking down she noticed that the boy's goal was to get to the shower room they had recently had installed in the new house.

They had moved into a new house after the wedding, she was so happy, she would be able to leave behind those first terrible memories she had of the four walls, too bad that now even those were filthy with a new and terrible event. She swallowed the nonexistent saliva, trying to chase away the stench of death that accompanied them both.

"Y/N," Jungkook began, holding her tenderly in his strong arms, he entered the shower with her before beginning to undress her, the woman shivered from the cold, she had almost forgotten about the storm howling outside, "I would never hurt you, you know that, yes?"

He bent down slightly so he could look into her eyes, but Y/N escaped his scrutinizing gaze.

"Look at me." he intimated firmly, he took her chin between two fingers, forcing her again to point her irises into his dark ones, when they bonded once more Jungkook threw himself on her lips, claiming them with possession and desire, the grip he maintained on her face was soft, however, as if he wanted her to know that she was safe with him and she had to give in to that passion, she returned that contact with desperation, trying to bury in the meanders in her mind what she had discovered that night.

Jungkook groaned smugly, grasping her thighs securely to allow her to bind her legs to his hips, her back stuck to the glass of the cabin, soon after she felt the jet of water hit them and she screamed in surprise, widening her eyes.

At their feet the water began to run crimson, as bewitched she ran her hands over her husband's chest, rubbing away those terrible stains, the signature of the sin committed by the man a few meters away. She did not want to look him in the eye, not at that moment as she passed to clean the arms that held her.

"Y/N-."

"Shut up!" she exclaimed in a broken voice, shedding more tears that mingled with the still flowing water.

Jungkook's wet hair stuck to his forehead and the tips touched his wide-open eyes. He looked like a little fawn caught by surprise.

He should not have had such an innocent look, even his red lips should not have been so sweet and tantalizing.

"You've been lying to me all this time, and just like that you bring a dead body into my house," she hissed, driving her nails into the boy's forearms, "You're a fucking crazy bastard," she continued snarling, exploding for the first time that way.

The boy watched her for a few moments without saying a word, before a grin spread across his otherwise angelic face.

"You may well be right, my sweetest wife," he laughed softly, "But to take you away with me and save you from that miserable life of yours I certainly could not be normal, those who love cannot afford to be normal," the tips of their noses touched as he blew those words at her and entered her with a slow thrust, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut as her unready pussy recognized the cock of the man she loves, Jungkook sadistically pushed deeper, enjoying the relaxed progress, he knew that she was experiencing a burning sensation that she secretly adored.

"Those who love cannot be normal," she repeated as she clutched at his chest, that phrase continued countless times in her mind as Jungkook underscored that thought by shaking her body repeatedly with direct and precise strokes, feverishly kissing her lost face.

She rested her head against the glass of the shower, letting the jet of water cloud her vision as her walls moistened around the man's increasingly tense cock, beginning to flicker more and more intoxicated by that forbidden pleasure, accompanying Jungkook's gradually more frequent and devouring moans.

"I fucking love you! You're perfect," he said through clenched teeth in her ear, growling at yet another squeeze of her abused and needy core, "Y/N, without you everything I do would be meaningless," he confessed, kissing her full cheek before brushing her face with his forehead, hiding his expression from her.

But his tears Y/N felt anyway, and it was the first time she could feel him so vulnerable.

Perhaps that night had not been upsetting only for her.

"J-Jungkook," she stammered, stopping short when the thick tip of his cock hit a particularly sensitive spot, her thighs glistening with water trembled as she increased her grip on his sculpted body, "I believe you, but no more secrets or-... work at home," she begged him with a knot in her throat, accepting without more strength what he was.

Those who love cannot be normal.

The boy nodded instantly, leaving small kisses on her chest, taking a sensitive nipple in his mouth, then going up her tender throat to her lips.

"Do you love me?" he rotated his hips expertly, making light contact with the young woman's swollen, tense clitoris, which at that point trembled uncontrollably.

"Mpf! -Kook!"

"Tell me, fuck! Tell me again, like you always do every day and every night; when I hold you, when I look at you, when I fuck you so good you lose your mind," he ordered in a raw voice, ready to make his cock explode inside her womb, wanting to offer her a little life that was already ready to grow with her.

He slammed into her several times violently, the glass shuddered furiously, and Y/N's eyes automatically closed at the powerful orgasm that shook her to her bowels, followed by the boy's copious jets of cum that filled her completely.

"I love you," she whimpered against his neck, trying to block her husband's last thrusts by clutching her walls, making them both gasp, "It's impossible for me to imagine a life without you, I could never leave you," she sobbed, completely exhausted and overcome by that all-consuming awareness.

"That is exactly the effect you have on me, my love... see? Together we are our everything, we don't need anything else."

The water was now flowing clear and clear, every trace of what had taken place in the basement had been buried.

Jungkook shut off the shower spray, got the girl down from his arms and immediately covered her with a large clean towel, helped her gently, kissing every visible patch of skin from time to time as he finished drying it thoroughly, it was a ritual now and there was no trace in him of the crazy man he had been almost an hour before.

In the bedroom he helped her brush out her damp hair, the next day it would be an unwatchable tangle of strands, but she really didn't have the strength or patience to even think of drying it with a hair dryer, she just wanted to sleep for hours on end. Jungkook on the other hand brushed the damp locks with joy, he loved their softness and shine, his little woman was gorgeous in every way.

"Let's go to bed, honey," he crooned, "You're about to collapse," he chuckled, snapping a noisy kiss on her forehead, missing the effect it had on the girl, who watched him with a lighter heart and a blank mind.

She fell asleep wrapped in her husband's arms, her head buried in the hollow between his neck and shoulder, lost in that sweet and inviting body heat, inhaling Jungkook's delicious scent.

He waited patiently for her to fall into Morpheus's arms before moving slowly, untangling their bodies from the firm grip that Y/N unconsciously tried to maintain, he sighed discontentedly.

He did not like the idea of parting with his beloved, but there was a filthy worm that had to be disposed of as soon as possible before it plagued their beautiful home with its stench.

The next day Y/N lazily opened her eyes, the sun's rays had long since penetrated the room, and stretched herself thoroughly before getting up and putting her feet on the floor.

She looked around for her husband, but he was not there.

In return she sensed voices whispering in the living room, frowned remembering that they were expecting no one that day, put on her Stitch slippers, a gift from Jungkook to tease her because of her endless love for the little being, and clasping her arms to her chest went to "investigate" the mysterious guest.

A dark-haired head and a blond-haired head turned in her direction when she gave evidence of her presence, her eyes widened.

Jungkook and Kim Seokjin both looked at her with a smile.

Suddenly memories of the night before flooded her mercilessly, causing her to gasp for breath.

She had accepted that she had to share Jungkook with that life, but the images of what she had seen still remained horrifying, and the smile they were both giving her sent shivers down her spine.

"You're awake!" exclaimed Jungkook cheerfully, leaving her interjected.

He was bursting with happiness for a reason still unknown to her.

"Jungkook, what..."

"Y/N."

Seokjin's quiet voice stopped her, she shifted her gaze to the man in silence, he had always given her the impression that he knew more than he wanted to reveal, her ex-principal had always been a mystery to her and now she had concrete certainty.

"Welcome officially to the family, Mrs. Jeon."

Jungkook's eyes shone euphorically, thus expressing his pride, Y/N instead observing Seokjin's angelic features understood that the devil had a face and a name.

[11rosebunny]

┆彡 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

Chapter one

HAJIME UMEMIYA X READER

It was extremely out of place to see an unconscious boy around your age. Anyone would have to be a fool to deny that it was more than odd and horrifying to see an unconscious body.

You felt your back start to sweat, it would be scum of you to leave a person that's unconscious to the hurt of this world. It was still fairly bright outside so you questioned how this person even ended up like this in the first place.

But still, you couldn't leave him there.

Upon walking into shadowed area, you felt a stench of nervousness beginning to find it's way to inflict worry in your brain. The senseless body before didn't move a muscle as you began approaching the lifeless boy.

As you got closer, you took note of his features; a lanky-tall body, wispy long hair that fell to his shoulders, and sharp features amongst his eyes and long nose. He gave the image of a first-year.

'He's extremely lean, even so, I can still see few of his muscles point out...' Your mind lingered away as you scanned his body up and down.

You crouched down and placed your shoulder bag on the ground as you put your hand on the boy's arm. You pushed his body gently to make him lay on his back, doing so, his eyebrows and eyes began to twitch.

The look on his face made you panic.

Backing away in a flash, you stumbled a few steps behind as you watched the boy emerge from his slumber. Now you felt it.

The feeling of an itching sensation of gaudiness began to light fire in your head. You felt like running, but to your surprise, you swallowed a thick load of saliva and stood your ground.

"Aah—" You stuttered. Your eyes continuously blinked at the image of the navy-haired male slowly erupting from his lifeless body to a now annoyed sensation.

It wasn't like you—to be found in a hectic situation like this. Could you even call it hectic? Probably not but still, this whole circumstance was able to turn all your gears to spin at an extremely fast rate.

The boy sat up, clutching the side of his head in pain with angered eyes. You heard him hiss when he felt the droplets of blood escaping from the thin layer of skin.

"Um..." Your voice was barely a whisper but the teenager in front of you caught your presence. He stared back at you with that same scowl but once he took a good look at you, it soften to a look of confusion.

Your body jolted at the harsh stare he shot you. He ultimately took notice of your jumpiness but seemed to not have cared. He stayed silent and only remained looking at you.

"...Do you need help?" You asked inquisitively.

He blinked at your offer.

"No."

A gut wrenching silence engulfs the two of you. You knew he was faking his toughness and he knew you saw right through him.

You blinked right back at him.

Your eyes travelled across his figure again. The multiple scratches and wounds on his face, the rips on his white shirt, dirtied up hands, and disheveled hair made you narrow your brows in confusion. Was he being serious?

Your stare on his face eventually made him look away with a tint of blush hiding on his cheeks in defeat.

"...Yes."

After helping up the tardy teenage boy, you found yourself walking with him to the nearest convenience store when he had told you he needed to buy treatments for wounds. After having a short conversation with him, you learned that his name was Kyotaro Sugishita. And indeed, he was first-year as you assumed. He learned that you attended the High school down from Furin and you were a third-year student.

You immediately recognized the famous Furin uniform that he wore. The High school was not too far from the one you attended and you even came across some fables of the delinquents serving justice for your town's sake. Even so, you couldn't be bothered to keep up with the school's stories they kept making.

"Don't speak much either?" You spoke softly as the two of you left the convenience store. Throughout your first instance with this random guy, you quickly came into terms he was quiet, stubborn, and funky; in the way he walked.

You held rolls of bandages and antiseptic wound cleaners in your arms while staring at the boy from the corner of your eyes. For some reason, you didn't feel as nervous when speaking to him, especially the fact that this was the first time you two met, you liked the way his personality was almost to the equivalent of yours.

He looked back at you with a blank expression and nods.

You hum.

"I need to go back to Furin." He says.

You raised your brows at the unexpected reply. "But your wounds..." Your voice barely came out as a whisper.

This time he looked at you from the corner of his eyes.

"...Come with me then."

Your mouth gaped at the sudden invite, "Is that really okay? I don't even attend the sch—"

"Come."

You stood in front of the graffitied High school in shambles, if you weren't feeling scared earlier, you were now beyond terrified to enter the school. It never really clicked in your head that a school of delinquents that focused on fighting would have a normal building. You've never come across the school till now and the moment you were able to witness the sheer size of it, it sent you off to another planet.

The sight of four floors and a rooftop was more than intimidating along with the excessive amounts of vandalism and green vines that grew over the walls in the cracks of the building. You took notice of the numerous roots that emerged from the top of the school accompanied by the random sprouts of bushes.

Sugishita continued walking forward up the steps to the doors and momentarily pushed them open and waited for you to come in.

You could practically feel your heart beating out of your chest upon entering the front doors. You thought the insides would be more nicer.

It surely was not.

"Uh, Sugishita is this really—" Before you could even speak on further, the tall-lanky boy began to walk towards the stairs without much thought. You hesitated to follow before running after him.

You convinced yourself to be lucky that school had ended about an hour ago, so luckily, Furin seemed to be empty each time you commenced to another floor. The stairs were echoey and had an ominous feeling as you soon realized the arts of graffiti continued to every single wall.

He was silent the entire time, the both of you probably exchanged a max of ten words by the time you made it to your destination.

By now, your hands and body were extremely sweaty. You could feel your heart jumping out of your chest when his long arms reached for the metal doors and pushed them open allowing the blazing sun beat down on your face when the both of you entered the roof.

From where you stood, the rooftop of Furin was something much more different than you had imagined.

Instead of the horrendous amount of graffiti scattered everywhere, it was rather kept clean and you soon realized where the roots had come from.

As you stepped onto the roof, your eyes stared in amazement at the widowed tree that grew at the top of the school and managed to adapt it's roots to grow against the concrete walls.

"Hey!! Sugishita you made it!" A cherry voice called out loud.

Your head shot back at where Kyotaro had brought you.

He never mentioned he would be bringing you to new people.

Your eyes widened at the sight of three other high school boys around his age.

'Ahh...' You mentally began to cry in your head as an image of yourself with fake tears crowded your thoughts. 'It's over for me...'

The three boys were sitting under a shed that had vines all over it, in the middle stood a wooden square bench with four plank seats on each side.

"Oh? And it seems like he brought a girl?" The boy with an eye-patch commented when he noticed your presence.

Approaching the table, your nerves couldn't handle the amount of thoughts that kept spewing from your head when you stood stupidly beside Sugishita. On the other hand, he looked almost bored.

That's when you noticed each of them were equally all roughed up like he was.

"Who're you?" The guy in the middle said. You took note of his oddly coloured black and white hair and golden eyes.

You cursed at Sugishita for not telling you in advance he was bringing you to other people you didn't know of.

As you approached the table awkwardly, you placed down the numerous rolls of bandages and liquids of hydrogen peroxide, antiseptics, medical tape, and padding wounds.

The navy-haired boy sat at the table right away and didn't even bother to introduce you to the others as you stood there awkwardly.

Thankfully, the other three were more interested about your presence.

"I've never seen you before..." A boy with bright blonde hair looked at you curiously. Looking at his face, scratches and wounds were found all over his arms and neck. From the sidelines, the lanky boy began to fiddle with the treatments he had paid for but made you carry.

"Perhaps you are Sugishita's girlfriend?" The one with the eyepatch said. You failed to notice how the one with the black and white hair jumped at his accusation. While the boy in the question didn't even bat an eye.

"Er— No..." You said awkwardly looking away.

"I apologize for intruding..." You bowed your head slightly making the three look at each other weirdly.

They returned your gaze back to you and completely ignored the way the navy-haired male was struggling to figure out how to clean up his own wounds.

"There's no need to apologize."

"Right, we were just curious on who you were. We've never seen you is all!"

"G..girl...friend?"

You began to mumble when your eyes winced at the way the first-year boy broke the cap of the antiseptic bottle causing the three of them to turn their attention to his. The liquid began to spill making the blonde one out of the three whine at him.

The one with the eye patch sighed at the wasted cleanser while the black and white haired boy began to insult hm.

You didn't know why you were still there.

"[Name] right?" Nirei shut one of his eyes as you held one of the cotton pads to the side of his cheek after cleaning it with hydrogen peroxide.

You hummed in agreement. After offering to help the four of them, each of you introduced yourself to one another. You soon realized that this group of boys were in the same class as Sugishita and had been on patrol earlier leading up to the state they were in. But still, you were wondering why Sugishita was found unconscious in the middle of a random alleyway when you stumbled across him.

"Yes?" You questioned back plainly before taking a piece of the medical tape and placing it on the cotton pad.

"[Name] huh..." He repeated again as you turned away to treat Sakura's wound on the tip of his right brow.

He jumped when you got close to him.

"That's weird, I've never heard about you before...." Nirei continued looking up at the ceiling of the shed. Suo smiled.

"Is it because you don't do well with women?" He chimed in with a kind grin.

"What! No!"

You remained silent the entire time, not feeling as imitated as before once you learned that they were also first-years. Compared to you, being a third-year had it's many perks.

"Say [Name], what school do you go to?" The blonde-haired boy asked as Sakura stared back at you with wide eyes and a red face as you began dabbing the cotton ball of cleanser on his dry bloodied wound.

"Hikari High."

The other three listened inquisitively.

You focused on Sakura after answering Nirei's question. One thing you knew right away, the boy you were dealing with now was the most difficult of them all. You were able to clean up Sugishita, Suo, and Nirei's most prominent wounds with very little trouble but as soon as you got to the black and white-haired boy, you could tell he was more nervous than you've probably ever been, and he did a terrible job at hiding that.

"Please stop moving." You warned him removing the cotton ball away, "I don't want to accidentally hurt you."

His eyes shot away from yours, "I-I'm not moving!"

"Yes you are." Suo objected.

"SHUT IT!"

There were very few times where you would be annoyed, somehow, this was one of the very few times. A small sigh of irritation left your lips when you stood up and walked behind him as a last resort. The others questioned what you were doing until your hands reached over his body and you began to treat his wounds from there.

"Is this better?" You asked.

You somehow made it worse.

"Y-yes!" He yelled loudly making everyone snicker at his reaction.

The atmosphere the four of them perceived was easygoing. You didn't even notice the way you quickly grew comfortable to their company which you usually do not see yourself doing. It was supposed to be another bland day of school as nothing big never goes on in your life. It was the first time you felt something remotely interest happen to you and seeing that you found yourself in the most infamous High school of where you lived, nobody would have believed that someone like you managed to climb your way up here.

They continued to converse with each other as you continued cleaning on Sakura's wounds, mostly Nirei, Suo, and Sakura since you learned Sugishita fell into the categories of the less talkative people. They didn't mind that it was mostly them speaking. They quickly learned you were possibly shy coming across newer people.

Having been so caught up with the new group of people you met, the sounds of the metallic doors opening caused you to jump on spot.

All of your attentions were not directed towards where the sound came from, to your disbelief, a pair of two older guys walked in and turned to where you stood.

The strange strands of grey hair flowed gently in the wind when his eyes met with the group of people already at the rooftop before him. He hadn't noticed the the display of people upon entering at first, too caught up on his thoughts of worry and concern and so the moment he came across an unfamiliar feminine face, his ocean blue eyes stared back into yours with a hint of curiosity completely forgetting about the others that he originally came to see.

You stared back at him in shock, already taking note of how much matured he looked. Well defined features, bulky muscles, and sharp features on his face made you realize he was someone about your age now. You couldn't see him in detail due to the distance that separated the both you, but when he realized he had been caught in a gaze in the depths of your eyes, he failed to shake out of it as curiosity began to shape in his head.

'Who is she?'

Chapter two

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

☠️ Maybe Later

Maybe Later: After fighting on Marineford with your captain, you wake up on the Polar Tang injured. When you try to wash the blood from marines and pirates alike, you can’t quite reach the areas you need to given your injuries. The doctor that patched you up decides to help.

Warnings: Gore, Talk of Death, Explicit Language, Explicit Material.

To Note: Trafalgar Law x Female!Reader, I named you Tulip.

Word Count: ~4.4k

You come to with a start, your eyes struggling to open. The room swims into focus—a metal ceiling, dim lights casting a sterile glow. You try to shift, but pain lances through your back, immobilizing you. You’re on your stomach, naked, and the sting of antiseptic fills your nostrils.

“Where... where am I?” Your voice croaks out, dry and weak. The last thing you remember is Luffy's screams, Ace's lifeless body, and charging for them. Then nothing. A memory of blistering pain erupting on your back flickers into your mind but doesn't linger.

A figure moves into view—dark curly hair under a yellow and orange hat. It’s Ikkaku. A concentrated look upon her face keeps her attention, hands gentle as they tend to the wound on your back.

“You’re on the Polar Tang,” she replies without glancing over to you. Her voice is calm but tinged with an underlying urgency. “You took a nasty hit from Akainu. Severe burn injury on your back and over your spine.”

The memory floods back—Akainu’s magma fist, the searing agony as it punched through your flesh. Bone. You grit your teeth against the residual pain and screaming nerves.

“You passed out from the pain,” Ikkaku continues. “You’re lucky your spine wasn’t completely ruined, otherwise you’d’ve lost your ability to operate your lower body.”

“Luffy... what about Luffy?” you rasp, knowing all too well the fate of Ace. All that work only for Ace to die.

Ikkaku’s hands pause for a moment before she resumes her work. “He’s still unconscious. We’re keeping an eye on him.”

The thought of Luffy lying somewhere in a similar state fills you with a mix of dread and relief. At least he’s alive.

“I need to get up,” you mutter, attempting to push yourself off the gurney.

Ikkaku’s hand presses firmly on your shoulder, stopping you cold. “Don’t even think about it,” she says sharply. “You are just out of surgery! You need at least three more hours for your spine to finish bonding before you can move safely. Otherwise, you might paralyze yourself! You are lucky that you still have vertebrae and nerves left!”

You whimper, a sharp sound of frustration mixed with agony. The pain surges, radiating from the burn wound and spreading through every corner of your back. Reluctantly, you stop moving, surrendering to her orders. With great reluctance.

Ikkaku's grip on your shoulder softens as she resumes her work. “I’ve debrided the wound post surgery,” she explains, voice clinical. “Removed all the dead tissue. Now I’m applying a synthetic material over it to protect the flesh that isn't too far gone. Most of the flesh that made direct contact with Akainu’s fist was incinerated. It’s going to feel strange for a while, but it'll speed up the healing process and you'll have 'skin' covering your spine again.”

Her fingers glide over your stinging back, placing a cool, gel-like substance over the raw skin. The contrast between the burn’s heat and the synthetic coolness is startling and you dig your fingers into the gurney beneath you to force yourself to stay still. You let out a shuddering breath, focusing on Ikkaku’s touch rather than the lingering pain.

“How bad is it Ikkaku?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Bad,” she admits. “But not irreversible. Law has some new advanced medical techniques. We’re doing everything we can, it won't be the same, but you'll at least still have function.”

You nod slightly, though even that small movement sends ripples of discomfort through you. Silence stretches between you and Ikkaku, filled only by her quiet murmurs as she continues her treatment.

Minutes tick by like hours until Ikkaku finally steps back, wiping her hands on a cloth. “Alright,” she says softly. “The worst part is done for now.”

“How long?” you ask, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“Three hours,” she replies. “Three hours for the material to integrate and start the healing process. Then you can take a shower to wash off all this blood. Just avoid applying excessive pressure to the area. Until then, do not move.”

Your eyes snap open at that, taking in your surroundings once more—the metallic walls of the Polar Tang's infirmary now smeared with streaks of red where you had thrashed earlier. The scent of blood mixes with antiseptic, a reminder of how close things had been.

“Blood’s everywhere,” you mutter, almost to yourself.

Ikkaku nods grimly. “Yeah, it got pretty messy when we brought you in. You were thrashing and kept breaking open cauterized parts of your back… but don’t worry about that now. Focus on resting.”

You close your eyes again, this time willingly surrendering to the stillness that beckons you. Time stretches and blurs; seconds bleed into minutes into what feels like an eternity. Luffy's screams, the explosive sounds of gunfire, screeching metal. You find yourself slipping into memories. The chaos of Marineford floods back into your mind in a rush.

Gunfire, screams, and the acrid stench of blood mingled with smoke. You remember the searing heat of Akainu's magma fist before it had even touched your shirt, the blinding pain that followed, and the desperate struggle to stay conscious. Luffy's frantic cries for Ace echoed in your ears, a haunting reminder of your failure.

“Tulip!” Luffy had shouted amidst the chaos, his voice a lifeline as you stumbled through the battlefield. But you had been too slow. The sight of Ace's lifeless body is burned into your mind, a permanent scar.

You vaguely recall Law's voice cutting through the haze of pain and battle. “I’ve got her,” he had said, his tone clipped with urgency. He hoisted you over his shoulder with a gentleness that seemed out of place in the middle of such violence and chaos.

Jinbe’s presence loomed nearby. He had just landed on the deck of the Polar Tang, cradling Luffy in one arm while passing you off to Law with the other. “She’s too stubborn to die,” Jinbe had grumbled, a rare hint of emotion cracking his usually stoic demeanor.

Law laid you on your stomach on the operating table, his hands surprisingly steady as he assessed your injuries. “Hold on, Tulip,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “I'll fix this,”

The sound of surgical instruments clinking together was oddly comforting amidst the backdrop of battle noise still ringing in your ears. Familiar. Law worked swiftly, his focus unwavering despite the urgency surrounding him. You always admire him for that.

“Ikkaku,” he had called out, never taking his eyes off your wound. “Prep for debridement, I'm going to have begin working on Luffy immediately.”

You barely remember her quick nod and rapid movements as she prepared the necessary tools. The pain was almost unbearable as they worked to clean and treat your burns, but their voices—calm and controlled—some how managed to keep your mind from breaking.

“We’re doing everything we can,” Ikkaku had reassured you as she began scraping at the edges of your wound. Sharp, burning. A chilly burn had entered your bloodstream and memories faded.

Now, back in the present, their words echo in your mind as you lay there on the gurney. The room around you fades into a blur once more as exhaustion pulls you under again.

The battle at Marineford may be over, but its echoes remain—etched into your skin and seared into your memory. Marring Luffy. You drift between wakefulness and sleep, caught in a limbo where past horrors intermingle with present pain. Is Luffy going to ever recover?

You push yourself up, muscles trembling, feeling every but of the synthetic material adhered to your back shift and move. Just like skin. Ikkaku hovers beside you, her eyes scanning you with a meticulous intensity. She’s making sure the material has bonded correctly, fingers grazing the edges of your wound with light touches.

"How does it feel?" she asks, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

You wince as you shift. "Like a thousand tiny needles are prickling my back," you admit, voice hoarse but steadier than it had been.

She nods, not unsympathetic, just clinical. "That's normal. It means the material is integrating well. You'll feel phantom pains occasionally. Your nerves are still adjusting and your body hasn't realized that you lost that skin yet. Well… it shouldn’t, it should just integrate the synth material like it is your own natural flesh healing.”

Her hand leaves your back, and she reaches for a lab coat draped over a nearby chair. She hands it to you without a word, her expression softening as she watches you struggle into it. The fabric feels rough against your still-bloodied skin but offers some semblance of modesty.

You take a deep breath and push yourself off the gurney and too your feet, legs shaky but functional. The room tilts slightly before steadying itself around you. Ikkaku moves to support you, but you wave her off with a weak smile.

"I got it," you murmur, taking tentative steps forward. Each movement sends twinges through your back, reminders of the damage inflicted by Akainu’s magma fist. Like you’ll every forget.

Ikkaku follows close behind, ready to catch you if you falter. "Take it slow," she advises. "No sudden movements."

Your feet shuffle against the cold metal floor of the infirmary, each step a fight you struggle to complete without a threatening wobble. The scent of antiseptic and detergent mingles with the lingering tang of blood—nauseating.

"How’s Luffy?" You ask again, needing to hear more than just reassurances.

Ikkaku hesitates before answering. "He's stable for now," she says quietly. "But he’s not out of the woods yet."

A wave of determination washes over you, lending strength to your wobbly legs. "I need to see him."

Ikkaku steps in front of you, blocking your path with a firm but gentle hand on your shoulder. “No, not yet, Tulip," she insists. "You need to rest and recover more before going anywhere. I'd suggest taking a shower first, it'll make you feel better and the gentle heat will help the synthetic material bond better to your bone and tissue."

“I’ll take a shower,” you murmur, your voice tinged with reluctant resignation. “But I’m seeing Luffy afterward.”

Ikkaku’s eyes narrow, a stern glint in her gaze. “If you refuse to rest, I’ll tell Law,” she warns, her tone a blend of concern and frustration. “You know how he gets when someone ignores medical advice, certainly you.”

A small smirk tugs at your lips. “Go ahead,” you retort, your voice steady despite the pain radiating through your back. “Law isn’t my captain.”

Ikkaku sighs, shaking her head slightly. “You’re impossible, you know that?” You hold the lab coat tighter around your body.

“Law knew what he was getting into when he decided to take me on as a patient,” you say, glancing at Ikkaku. Your voice carries a hint of defiance mixed with resignation. “It's not the first time we've been through this.”

Ikkaku’s expression softens slightly, though she still looks concerned. “You’re right,” she concedes, stepping aside to let you pass. “But don’t push yourself too hard, Tulip. Law—you know how Law is.”

You nod, appreciating her concern but knowing that nothing will keep you from seeing Luffy. You promised to take care of him. The narrow corridor stretches ahead, its metal walls reflecting the dim lighting. Creaking from water pressure and humming from technology.

You shuffle into the bathing room, a sterile, tiled space with several communal shower heads lining the walls. The lab coat slips from your shoulders, revealing the smattering of bruises and cuts that paint your body. You had been high on adrenaline at Marineford, only now do you feel the full extent of what you've endured. Every movement pulls at your skin, every shift of bone alters you to bruises you didn’t know you had.

You glance at a mirror set into the wall. The sight stops you cold. Your back, once mostly unblemished, is now marred by a large, fist-sized black patch crusted with blood and other fluids. Akainu would forever be imprinted on your body. The edges of the wound are inflamed, the skin around it angry and raw, a stark contrast to the rest of your flesh.

Swallowing thickly, you step closer to the mirror, eyes tracing every jagged line and swollen contour of the wound. "Dammit," you mutter under your breath, your fingers trembling as they hover over the injured area. The strange synthetic material replacing your skin. You don’t touch it—can't even reach it—but just seeing it up close is enough to bring the memory crashing back.

You force yourself to look away from the mirror and hobble over to one of the shower heads. Each step is a battle against gravity and the needle like pain prickling at your spine, but you make it. Reaching out, you turn the knob with a shaky hand. Water bursts forth in a cascade, steam filling the room almost instantly.

The water hits your skin like needles at first—sharp and unrelenting—but soon morphs into something more tolerable. You brace yourself against the wall, letting the stream wash away layers of grime and dried blood. Red-tinted water swirls around your feet, vanishing down the drain in ribbons.

You tilt your head back, closing your eyes as you let the warmth further seep into you. It’s not comfort—nothing can be that right now—but it’s something. The heat softens some of the tension knotted in your muscles and eases some of the ache radiating from your wounds. Ikkaku might have spoken about the heat helping the synthetic material bond to your spine, but it also lessens the sharp prickles.

Your hands move slowly, carefully scrubbing away the dried blood crusted on your chest and arms. The water turns a murky mix of black and red at your feet, swirling down the drain. Each stroke is mechanical, as you try to cleanse yourself of the battlefield's remnants. In an almost detached way, you are sure not all of the blood is yours alone. The metallic scent of blood mixes with the sterile smell of the soap. It only makes your stomach roll in your belly.

The heat from the water softens the grime but not the memory of Akainu’s searing attack. You grit your teeth as you attempt to turn your back against the shower spray, but the sensitivity is too intense. The water pressure feels like swords stabbing into your raw flesh.

You sigh in frustration and resort to using your hands, gently swiping around the edges of your back. Despite your best efforts, you can't reach all of your back—let alone the wound itself—without twisting painfully. Cleaning your back isn't going to happen.

The shower room door creaks open, and you hear footsteps approaching. You glance over your shoulder to see Law entering, a towel wrapped around his hips. His expression is a mix of concern and irritation. And exasperation because he is not the least bit surprised.

“You're supposed to be resting,” he says, voice firm but not unkind.

You bite your lip, glancing down at the murky water swirling around your feet. "I'm covered in blood, Law," you murmur, frustration edging your voice. "Not just mine—dead Marines, dead pirates. I need it off."

He doesn’t respond immediately, just steps closer, the towel slipping from his hips to pool around his feet. You quickly turn away, focusing on the cuts riddling your chest and arms instead of the sight of his naked body. Painfully as beautiful as you remember. Your fingers itch to trace the tattoos on his chest.

Law’s own fingers brush against your shoulder, wiping away some blood that clings stubbornly to your skin. You suck in a breath, feeling the warmth of his body so close behind you. The sensation sends prickles throughout your body, mingling with the residual pain.

"You’re never going to get all the blood off at this rate," he remarks, his fingers still ghosting across your shoulders.

You fire back almost instantly. "I was in the middle of washing it off when you came in."

A heavy silence falls between you two, filled only by the steady stream of water hitting the tiles and swirling down the drain. Your muscles tense as you feel Law’s forehead gently rest against your shoulder.

"I had to rebuild part of your spine, Tulip," he confesses quietly.

"I was trying to save my captain's family, Law," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of the shower. The weight of your words hangs in the air, the enormity of Marineford pressing down on you both. But you don’t argue further. You know there’s no point. The damage is done.

Law remains silent, his forehead still resting against your shoulder. You feel his breath, warm and steady, as he takes a moment to compose himself.

"I know," he finally says, his voice a low murmur that reverberates through your body. "But now you need to let me take care of you."

You nod slightly, not trusting yourself to speak. Law’s fingers move again, this time more deliberately, as he begins to carefully wash the blood from your back. His touch is gentle but firm, each movement measured and precise. A reflection of his medical side.

His fingers graze the edges of your wound with an almost reverent care. You feel every stroke, every slight pressure as he works meticulously to clean the area without causing further pain. The sensation is both soothing and agonizing—a reminder of how carefully he can yet so close to what you silently wish for the darkest of nights.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good,” Law mutters under his breath, though there’s no real anger in his tone.

You let out a soft laugh that quickly turns into a wince as his fingers brush against a particularly sensitive spot. “Look who’s talking,” you retort weakly.

Law’s lips curve into a small smile that you can’t see but feel against your shoulder. “Fair point,” he concedes.

As the last of the blood is washed away, Law’s touch changes subtly. His fingers linger longer on your skin, tracing patterns that have nothing to do with medical necessity.

Law’s hands slide around your hips, one settling against your stomach while the other trails fingers down to your pelvis and against your inner thigh. His fingers are slow, as if savoring every moment. The warmth of his palm against your thigh sends a rush of heat through your body, and you lean back into his embrace, your breathing growing heavier.

“Don’t start anything you’re not willing to finish,” you whisper, your voice almost muted by the spray of the shower.

Law’s lips press against your neck, his breath warm and steady. He begins to kiss and nibble at your skin, each touch igniting sparks that radiate outward. You squirm against his chest, a soft groan escaping your lips as his fingers slide between your legs to glide through your folds. The sensation is electric, each stroke drawing out more and more gentle bursts of pleasure that fight to overtake lingering aches.

Your hand moves to cover Law's, pressing against your stomach. Your fingers clench around his, feeling the strength and warmth that are so intimately familiar. Each touch from him sends waves of sensation through you, both comforting and electrifying.

"Law," you breathe, your voice thick with emotion and something deeper, something only he could bring out.

Law's grip tightens slightly in response, a silent acknowledgment of your words. "You better tell me if it becomes too much," he warns, his voice low and husky, tinged with concern and desire.

A moan escapes your lips as his fingers continue their gentle exploration, drawing out sensations that make your body hum with pleasure. You twist your head to look up at him, your eyes meeting his with an intensity that speaks volumes. "Law," you breathe out again, this time more insistently.

For a brief moment, your shared and murky past is swept away to be forgotten. His dark eyes lock onto yours, filled with an unspoken promise. The connection between you feels almost tangible, charged with the weight of everything left unsaid. Always unsaid, but never forgotten.

Then he bends down, closing the distance between your lips and his. The kiss is fierce yet tender, filled with a hunger that matches your own. His lips move against yours with a rhythm that leaves you breathless, his tongue exploring your lips and mouth as if he intends to discover you all over again.

Your free hand reaches up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss. The taste of him is intoxicating, each movement of his lips sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His fingers continue their journey between your legs, the slow, deliberate strokes driving you to the edge.

"Tulip," he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and ragged. "I need to know if—"

"Don't stop," you cut him off, your voice raw with need. "Please, you won't hurt me."

His response is immediate; he kisses you harder, his fingers quickening their pace. Swirling around your clit with precise strokes. You shudder in his embrace and whimper deliciously. The shower's spray mingles with the heat between you two, creating an atmosphere that's both steamy and electrifying.

Your body arches into his palm as waves of pleasure build within you, each touch from Law pushing you closer to release. You can feel the tension coiling tight in your lower belly, ready to snap at any moment. Gods, he knows how to play your body just right.

Your fingers tighten in Law's hair, your nails grazing his scalp. He groans against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you. His tongue laves against yours, each stroke igniting drunken sparks that race through your veins. The intensity of the kiss consumes you, leaving no room for anything else but the sensation of his lips on yours and the relentless rhythm of his fingers between your legs.

Your gasps and whimpers become more frequent, each one escaping into the space between your lips. Law devours every sound you make, his mouth never leaving yours. His fingers slide deeper into you, their movements confident and unerring. You can feel the slick heat building inside you, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.

“Law,” you moan against his lips, your voice trembling with desire. “Please…”

His fingers quicken their pace, each stroke sending you closer to the brink. His other hand slides up your stomach, caressing the sensitive skin until it cups your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple. The dual sensations make your breath hitch, a soft cry escaping your lips.

Your body responds to his touch instinctively, hips moving in time with his fingers. You’re lost in the sensation, the steamy room narrowing down to just you and Law, the heat of the shower, and the intense pleasure coursing through you.

His breath is hot against your ear as he whispers, “I’ve got you.” His words are a promise and a command all at once.

Your fingers dig into his hair, holding on as waves of pleasure build inside you. The tension coiling tighter with each stroke until it’s almost unbearable. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body alight with anticipation.

“Law,” you gasp again, your voice breaking. “I’m so close…”

His response is a low growl of encouragement. “Let go,” he murmurs against your skin. “I want to feel you come around my fingers, flower.”

With that final push, the tension snaps, and your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your body shakes against his chest as pleasure radiates out from your rippling cunt. Your muscles contract around his fingers, drawing them deeper as wave after wave of sensation floods through you.

You sob his name, the sound echoing off the tiled walls as he continues to work you through your release. Each tremor of pleasure is heightened by his relentless touch until you're left gasping for breath, completely spent.

Your legs feel weak beneath you, but Law’s strong arms hold you up, supporting your weight as you come down from your high. He’s there with you every step of the way, holding you firmly against his body to keep you steady.

As the last shudder runs through you, he slowly withdraws his fingers from your clenched thighs and wraps that arm around your waist. You lean back into him, breathing heavily as you regain your bearings.

When you finally feel steady enough to stand on your own again, you reach out to turn off the water. The sudden silence feels almost deafening after the rush of the shower and the sounds of your shared passion.

You slowly turn around to face Law, water dripping from both of you onto the tiled floor. His eyes meet yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. One of his hands comes up to cradle your bruised face gently.

“You look like you had the ever-loving shit beaten out of you,” he mutters, his voice a dry mixture of concern and amusement.

A strained laugh escapes your lips, raw and unrefined. “You should see the other guy,” you manage to joke, despite the pinpricks still stabbing away at your spine.

Law’s thumb traces the scabbed-over cuts on your face with a tenderness that contradicts his harsh words. Each touch is careful, as if he’s trying to memorize every line and curve marred by battle. The pads of his fingers glide over your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

“Does it hurt?” he asks quietly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Not as much as it did,” you reply, your voice softer now. You lean into his touch, savoring the brief moment of intimacy amid the chaos.

His fingers continue their exploration, tracing the contours of your face with an almost reverent care. How aggravating that you missed it this much because now all you wish for is more.

"Are you going to leave me hanging?" you ask, your voice carrying a playful edge despite the exhaustion weighing down on you. Law lets out an exasperated sigh, his breath warm against your cheek. You never change.

"Maybe later, flower, you've got a lot of healing up to do."

Date Published: 9/5/24

Last Edit: 9/5/24

Trafalgar D. Water Law Masterlist

[equallyshaw]

no longer home, to me. | nico hischier ↳ warnings: sad, swearing and talks of cheating. ↳ word count: 1.8k

nico was not sure where it all went wrong. he was not sure when the isolating, the constant back and forth, and less-than-thrilled conversations began. but for the past two months, it had been eating away at him - too afraid or nervous to say anything that could possibly break the two forever. but then it all became too much, the night of the 19th, of march. he didn't recognize the woman he had once loved - yet - still loved deeply - at the same time. he did not see the future he - no they had once envisioned, on what seemed to be the 100th date, but in actuality, it was only the 4th. 4 years later, nico no longer felt at home with the woman he had once felt. he was no longer considered her home, and truthfully- neither was she.

_

nico walked through the door of his and her's apartment in jersey after a team meeting and practice. he saw his fiance of a year, in the kitchen mixing some salad together looking less enthused as she nursed the wine bottle next to her. his eyebrows crinkled a bit as he set down his keys near the door, watching as she didn't look up to greet or to aknowledge that he had arrived home. which was very uncharacteristic of her, he thought. "hi Schatzi." he said walking in the kitchen and placing a kiss on her naturally tanned cheek, before moving to the fridge to grab water and a gatorade. "hi." she mumbled back, not looking up from the mixing bowl. he looked around at the dinner that was on the table, seeing the table done up all nicely for them.

had he missed an anniversary? a special date? why were their nice napkins and utensils out? fancy wine glasses?

"did i miss something schatzi?" he questioned looking over to her as he opened his drinks, and all she did was shake her head. he nodded softly before making his way over to the dining room table. he noticed that it was filled with his family's traditional dishes, and as he turned to ask her a question - she was walking over with the wine bottle in one hand and the salad bowl in the other. nico pulled out her chair at the head of the table, and she sat down quickly. he moved next to her and sat down, quickly digging into the food. though she didn't move an inch, as she slowly sipped on the red win. "sweetie?" he asked softly, placing his right hand on her left. she pulled it away, and chugged some more of the liquid.

"birgit what is going on? what happened? did i do something?" he demanded, now slightly annoyed. she slowly turned her face towards him, and stared at him for a few seconds. he looked into the the love of his life eyes, her eyes were red and puffy. her cinnamon skin puffy, and looking paler than usual. she looked absolutely lifeless for whatever reason, one that nico couldn't pinpoint. nothing had happened at work recently, the team was doing better, she had just gotten back from california a few days prior for a little girls getaway with some work friends. what had changed recently? though let's be real, things had changed a long while ago.

"birgit are you ill? did something happen at work?" he questioned softer, placing a firmer hand on hers. she let it be but scoffed, throwing her head back for some more of the wine. "please talk to me, my love." he begged and she shook her head. "did i do something?" he questioned and she shook her head. "then tell me! stop with this silent treatment, i cant take it!" he said standing up now, the seat scratching the floor. she looked up at nico, with widened eyes. he was never one to get heated or irritated quickly.

birgit would still not speak or make a peep, as she turned her gaze - slowly - back towards the table. she felt her eyes begin to water, her lip begin to tremble and her breathing begin to rise. he pulled her chair out a bit, kneeling in front of her before pulling her into his arms. she sobbed into his chest, feeling herself slowly but surely pull away physically - and emotionally. he wiped her tears as she sniffled, with her not bothering to look at him. "birgit...schatzi." he said softly pulling her chin up to face him, his fingers softly raising it. she finally looked into his eyes, her dark chocolate mirroring his own. "what's wrong? please tell me, tell me so i know what i can do to fix it." he said softly, and she shook her head with a sniffle. "this...this you cant fix neeks." she said feeling herself on the verge of crying again, as she let out a small trapped sob. "what do you mean?" he questioned with eyebrows furrowed.

she licked her lips before speaking again, "this." she paused motioning between them, "cannot be fixed nico." she said defeatedly. he was still confused, with a deep feeling of anxiety beginning to creep up his spine. "us?" he questioned as his voice gave out. without a response from her, he stood up and retracted his hands from her chin. he bit the inside of his cheek, walking towards the other end of the room in disbelief.

"did you cheat?" he asked abruptly, turning around to face her. her head shot up, finding his stare instantly. she looked at him in disbelief now, "why would you ask that knowing the answer?" she questioned, with a small grimace on her face. he shook his head, "i don't know what to think anymore, birgit!" he voiced and she sighed.

she pinched her nose, "there have been things that have made this happen, nico. there have been things out of both of our control that have brought us here, don't act like you didn't know or maybe you were naive and don't understand." birgit voiced now and he shook his head. "did you cheat?" he questioned again, doubling down. her mouth was agape and scoffed, "fuck you nico. you again- know that answer!" she screamed. "i don't know if i believe you!" he said placing his hands on his hips. "that's your problem, not mine. you know that i've been faithful this whole time, and have never once stepped out, don't kid yourself now." she said standing up and staring down at the table full of food. she sighed, clasping her eyes shut.

"i have-i've tried nico. ive tried so very hard to fit into your life." she paused turning around, "i have tried relentlessly to conform to this life that's foreign to me. still." she paused again biting the inside of her cheek. "i've lost myself throughout all of it, i've killed pieces of me to keep you happy- us together- us happy and to- to make it seem like we were just oh so happy in love. a fucking fairytale!" she confessed. he shook his head, "why did you not say anything? why did you keep it bottled up?!" he demanded and she shrugged, "why would i want to make you lose your focus? why would i want to distract you from what matters the most?" she questioned as if it was not obvious.

he now scoffed, "don't you get it? birgit...you are the most important thing in my life, above hockey, above everybody else. you- you and you, alone are it. i would give up hockey for you, don't you realize that? if you had said something-" she cut him off, "if i'd what? said something? what difference would it have made? we would have still at some point made it to this situation, this moment- this dissolution. dont kid yourself nico, it isn't a good look - even for you." she said distastefully. "how can you stand here and be ok with this? why aren't you upset? why are you so cool-headed about this?" he demanded and she chuckled.

"ive come to terms with this long ago, i've made peace with this for some time. i knew it was coming but wasn't sure when. ive come to terms with this, and have prepared myself. i've shed too, way too many tears over this. trust me nico, i tried! i tried to sew it back together, i tried my darn best to mold and fit into the old me but i can't do it anymore. i need out, i need space, i need - need to move on and get away from this, and- and you. i-i-" she paused carefully deciding on her next words, "the real reason i went to california was for a job interview." she confessed and his eyebrows creased. "what?" he asked softly, almost a whisper. "you arent coming home?" he questioned, referencing swizterland, where the two had grown up together and fallen in love.

she shook her head.

"you gave me the absolute gift of a lifetime, inviting me out here and letting me move in with you. but-but, my life is based here now. i have my small-knit group of friends both here in new york and out there in california, im gonna be ok. this will all be ok." she said trying to reassure him but he would not buy it. "it isn't though. im gonna be alone and without you, my best friend in the entire world for what seems like a lifetime." he said sitting down on the living room couch in disbelief. she made her way over to the couch, and sat down next to him wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"but you aren't going to be alone, at least not forever. maybe a little while, and that's ok. but you'll find your eurydice well, at least minus the underworld and dying part." she said with a small giggle, and he looked down at her. "you were my eurdyice, minus the snake." he said and she met his eye.

they still held so much love and light for her.

"but youre not my orpheus nico." she said softly placing her head on his shoulder. his own falling to meet hers.

"youre no longer considered my home nico, which is death in itself." she whispered, breaking nico's heart as he turned inward to kiss her temple; with tears pouring out.

because she wasn't his anymore too.

_

the next time the two saw one another, was when she opted to take a two weeks trip home to swizterland during the off-season. her parents and nico's still in the same childhood homes, down the street from one another. and seeing him on the lake, having a good time with his friend group from childhood, she couldn't help but smile at how happy he seemed. and vice versa. word travels fast in their small town, and the return of birgit was widespread, and so was her every blossoming smile.

hope you enjoyed! sorry for this being sad ):

some random tags: @cuttergauthier @toasttt11 @nicohischierz @nicohischier @hockeyboysarehot @jayda12 @devilinpradaheels @fallinallincurls @sc0tters

[solo6677]

Brand New Life

Jack and Sarah are very happy couple until a car accident changes their lives forever.

In the quiet town of Meadowgrove, Nebraska , a seemingly ordinary couple, Jack and Sarah, were known for their strong bond and unyielding love for each other. However, one fateful day, their lives took an unexpected turn.

While they are both in a car driving to church Jack swerved to miss a deer and hit another car and then a tree. Though Sarah seemed unhurt, the ambulance took both of them to the local hospital. Jack went to the hospital because he was unconscious.

The tragic car accident left Jack in a coma, his body broken and bruised. The doctors also delivered more devastating news to Sarah: Jack had lost both his balls and penis in the crash, and mentally he might never be the same again.

As the weeks turned into months, Sarah refused to give up on her husband. She spent every waking moment by his side, praying for a miracle. And then one day, she received a call from the hospital that changed everything.

The doctors had been working with a company called Evie’s Incorporated on an experimental treatment. They would use an elixir to transform a male into a female. They offered it to Sarah as a last resort, promising that it might give Jack a brand new life but he would be a complete woman.

But what kind of life would it be? Would Jack want to become a woman? And if he did, how would it affect their relationship?

Sarah was faced with a difficult decision. Should she take the leap of faith and give Jack a chance at a brand new life, or should she hold on to the man she married and hope for a miracle?

As she stared at Jack's lifeless body in the hospital bed, she couldn't help but wonder: what would their brand new life look like? Sarah decided to go on with the procedure. The doctors then came into the room and hooked Jack up to an IV with pink liquid coming out of it and into his body. They informed Sarah it could be a few days before they really see anything happening but to have faith.

Sarah would show up to Jack's room the next day. She brought with her books to read to him things that he would enjoy as a man. She sat there for hours and read to him, not seeing him change at all. As she sat there frustrated she prayed that something good would happen. As she left for the night she kissed Jack on the head and told him that she would be back the next day.

The first sign of transformation came on the second day after the elixir was administered. Jack's rough, calloused hands, once marked with the signs of a lifetime of manual labor, began to smooth out and soften. Sarah noticed the change as she held his hand, feeling the skin become softer and more delicate beneath her fingers.

On the third day, Jack's facial and body hair began to disappear, leaving his skin smooth and hairless. His jawline became less defined, and his cheekbones more pronounced. Sarah watched in amazement as her husband's features began to change, becoming softer and more feminine.

By the fourth day, Jack's body had undergone a dramatic transformation. His broad shoulders and muscular chest had given way to a more slender frame, and his waist had narrowed. His hips had widened, and his bottom had become rounder. Sarah couldn't believe the changes she was seeing, as her husband's body became more and more feminine with each passing hour.

The final sign of transformation came on the fifth day. Jack's scar where his penis had been disappeared, and in its place, was a fully formed vagina. Sarah couldn't believe what she was seeing, as her husband's body had been completely transformed from male to female.

Throughout the transformation, Jack remained in a coma, unaware of the changes taking place. Sarah stayed by his side, holding his hand and watching in amazement as her husband became a woman. She couldn't help but wonder what Jack would think of the changes when he woke up. Would he be happy with his new body? Or would he be confused and scared?

As the transformation came to an end, Sarah couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. She was happy that Jack had been given a new chance at life, but she was also scared of the unknown. She knew that their lives would never be the same, and that they would have to navigate this new reality together.

As she looked at Jack, now Jackie, she couldn't help but feel a sense of hope. She knew that this was just the beginning of a new chapter in their lives, and that they would face whatever came next together, as husband/wife and wife.

The doctors were amazed by the transformation, they had never seen such a quick and complete change in a human body before. They were not sure if Jackie would have the same personality or memories as Jack, but they were sure that she would have a new life ahead of her.

As Jackie woke up from her coma, Sarah was there by her side, holding her hand and ready to start this new journey together. Jackie opened her eyes and looked at Sarah, she didn't remember anything from before the transformation, but she knew that she was loved and that was all that mattered. She was ready to start her new life as Jackie, and Sarah was ready to be by her side every step of the way.

At first, Sarah was overjoyed to see Jack alive and well. She was relieved to see that the experimental elixir had worked, and she was excited to get to know this new version of her husband. But as the days went by, Jackie's personality began to change.

At first, Sarah was shocked by Jackie's transformation, but she tried her best to be supportive. Jackie was still the same person she had always loved, after all, just with a different appearance. Jackie seemed to be treating her even better than before, showering her with gifts and affection.

However, after a few days, Jackie started to become more and more demanding. She insisted that Sarah call her Jacqueline, and would fly into a rage if she slipped up. Jacqueline also started to treat Sarah like a servant, making her do all the household chores and running errands for her.

It wasn't long before Jacqueline's demands became more degrading. She made Sarah wear revealing outfits and perform humiliating tasks in public. Sarah felt like she had lost all control over her life, and she didn't know how to fight back.

But what was even worse was that Jacqueline started to bring other men into their home and bedroom. She would make Sarah sit in the corner of the bedroom and play with herself while watching Jacqueline have sex with them. At first, Sarah was horrified, but as time went on, she found herself becoming aroused by the sight of Jacqueline with other men.

Jacqueline seemed to enjoy having an audience, and she would often make Sarah perform oral sex on her while she was with someone else. Sarah felt like she had become a mere object, a sex slave to Jacqueline and her lovers.

But despite the degrading treatment, Sarah found herself craving more. She had never felt so desired, so wanted before. She didn't want to admit it, but she was starting to enjoy her servitude. She would do anything to please Jacqueline, and she felt a thrill every time Jacqueline praised her for being a good girl.

As the days turned into weeks, Sarah's life became a blur of chores, humiliation, and sexual pleasure. She had never been happier, even if she couldn't quite understand why. She had lost all sense of self, and she didn't know if she would ever be able to get it back.

Sarah, once a strong and independent woman, now finds herself completely submissive to Jacqueline's every whim. She has become a slave to her wife's desires, willingly serving her in any way she can. Sarah's life revolves around Jacqueline's pleasure, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Despite the degrading treatment, Sarah feels a deep sense of love and devotion towards Jacqueline. She believes that this is the life she was meant to live, and she is grateful for every moment she gets to spend with her wife.

As the months go by, Sarah becomes more and more accustomed to her new life. She learns to anticipate Jacqueline's needs, and takes pride in serving her. Sarah's love for Jacqueline only grows stronger with each passing day, and she knows that she will do anything to make her happy.

In the end, Sarah and Jacqueline's relationship has become a twisted reflection of their love for each other. While some might see Sarah's submission as a form of oppression, she sees it as an act of love and devotion. And as long as Jacqueline is happy, Sarah will continue to serve her, willingly and happily, for the rest of their lives.

[dmitriene]

ʙʟᴏᴏᴅꜱᴛᴀɪɴꜱ.

❝ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 ❞ 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳.

❝ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 ❞ 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.

❝ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 ❞ 𝘔𝘌𝘈𝘕 𝘚𝘐𝘔𝘖𝘕, 𝘎𝘖𝘙𝘌, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘱, 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥.

❝𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦❞ 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢, 𝘪 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢.. 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘴 𝘪 𝘢𝘮.

 ✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

You hated your job.

Hated it with a passion that burned deep within you like a smoldering ember.

The hotel you worked at was nothing short of a cesspool of filth, and your position as a maid only amplified your disdain.

It was meant to be your ticket to independence, your way of stepping into adulthood, but instead, it felt like a never ending descent into the depths of human depravity.

Each day was a torturous cycle of cleaning up after inconsiderate guests who treated their rooms like garbage dumps — dirty towels littered the floors, trash cans overflowed with discarded fast-food containers, and the bathroom sinks were often marred with lipstick stains and toothpaste splatters.

And then there were the guests themselves — many of them brazenly objectifying you, making your skin crawl with their lecherous comments and wandering hands.

But the worst part of it all was your boss — a slimy, middle aged man who took your politeness as an invitation to harass you with repugnant attempts at flirting.

It was a constant struggle to maintain your composure, to avoid lashing out at him and risking your livelihood.

Tonight, however, would be different.

As you wheeled the cart down the dimly lit hallway, you muttered curses under your breath, a long list of complaints about the mess the guests left behind.

And when you entered the dimly lit room, your heart sank at the sight of the chaos.

It seems that some guests have not even made an effort to maintain their rooms in decent condition.

You sighed, muttering another set of curse words under your breath, and began to pick up the scattered towels from the bathroom floor.

Your thoughts were consumed by the disgusting treatment you endured every day, and the feeling of despair grew heavier with each passing moment.

And then, suddenly, you were startled by a knock on the door.

The door swung open with a sharp creak, and you froze in your tracks, you were alone in the hallway, and fear squeezed your heart as you carefully stepped towards the slightly open bathroom door.

But before you could react, a crimson splatter of blood splashed in front of you.

Your eyes widened in horror as you saw a man in military uniform, Simon, mercilessly deal with the man lying on the floor.

Blood gushed around the lifeless body as Simon's merciless blows pierced the victim's neck.

You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand, and instinctively stepped back, pressing yourself against the sink, not taking your eyes off the terrible scene unfolding in front of you.

Simon's cruelty sent a shiver down your spine and your breathing quickened as you witnessed the brutal murder — the man's body twitching and convulsing under Simon's relentless attacks until he finally froze motionless.

Simon stood up, calmly wiping the blood from his hands, and then you noticed the creepy balaclava hiding his face.

Terror coursed through your veins as he headed for the bathroom door, you stepped back, trembling, and just as you were about to open your mouth to beg for your life, the glass of detergent fell from your shaking hands and fell noisily on the floor.

Simon turned abruptly and moved toward the bathroom, yanking the door open as you fell to the floor in a panic, tears streaming down your face, begging him not to kill you — «Please, don't kill me!» you whimpered.

His cold gaze only glared at you as he muttered — «Maid, huh?»

Before you could react, he pushed you deeper into the room, away from the bathroom.

Your heart was pounding as he forced you to look at the lifeless corpse and the pool of blood as he placed his large warm hand on the small of your back and you shuddered at his touch — «Come on, love» he whispered in your ear in a strange soothing voice, coaxing slightly — «Clean this shit up»

His hand lightly spanked your quivering ass, sending a shiver down your spine.

You were used to being treated poorly by guests, but this was different — the contrast between his cold demeanor and the unexpected heat of his touch stunned you, despite the fear and nausea from the metallic smell of blood in the room.

Tears flowed freely as you grabbed the rag you had discarded earlier and began the gruesome task of cleaning up the blood-soaked mess.

Simon leaned against the wall, his eyes fixed on you, clearly amused by the whole situation.

He listened to your sobs and watched as you vigorously mopped the floor, trying not to look at the terrible appearance of the corpse with open lifeless eyes and a deep bloody wound on the neck.

After what seemed like an eternity, you finally finished cleaning the room.

Your knees went weak and you struggled to regain your balance — Simon, surprisingly gentle enough for a cold killer, wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you to your feet.

Holding you, he slipped a couple of large bills into your breast pocket— you could feel the freshness of the money through your uniform as he reached out to caress your tear stained cheek, his gloved hand surprisingly gentle.

— «Thank you for your work, love» he said quietly, before patting you where he spanked you earlier and leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

The dim light casts eerie shadows, emphasizing the brutality of the scene in front of you as you knelt on the bloody carpet, and the smell of iron hung in the air, making your stomach churn.

You were left alone, a mixture of emotions seething inside you — you hated your job even more, but you couldn’t deny a strange feeling of gratitude to the unknown killer who left you a generous tip and a mysterious phone number.

What could this mean?

As you knelt there, shaking, covered in sweat and tears, you couldn't help but wonder if this night would change your life forever — what kind of darkness had you stumbled upon, and what role would Simon play in your uncertain future?

One thing was certain — your life would never be the same again.

taglist: @roseglazedlens, @scar-crossedlvrs, @daydreamrot, @valsthea, @kennedyswhore dm me if you want to be tagged in my works or open my taglist.

[calypso707]

Did you get a request? It's an one shot for Astarion to react to gn crush who would always help him if they can but always refuse to repayed in any way whether it's money or anything else. Thanks!

For this request, I decided to simply make a part 2 of my OS - Astarion x Gn druid reader : On your skin (pt 1). I thought it was a good fit for this idea! Enjoy! ♥

OS - Astarion x Gn druid reader : On your skin (Pt 2).

You and your companions had been at Baldur's Gate for a few days now. You'd never really enjoyed life in the city, and certainly not here, where you could feel the poison spreading through the ground and into every living creature around you. Trees were dying, wild animals were fleeing, birds were silent.

During a seemingly routine patrol along the banks of the Chionthar River, you were ambushed by some disciples of Bhaal, the Lord of Murder. They outnumbered your group and seemed more dangerous every time. Since the death of Ketheric Thorm, Orin the Red had been tracking you like a predator watching and playing with its prey. The disciples under her command would do anything to spill your blood. Just as one of Bhaal's assassins dashed towards Astarion, dagger raised, you lifted your arm to imprison him with vines that you conjured up from the ground with your magic.

"Astarion, look out!" you cried.

You couldn't see if the enemy had managed to hit Astarion, for your attention was immediately diverted by another one who threw himself at you. You barely had time to drop ice spikes on him, which pierced his body from all sides, his knife merely grazing your cheek. As his lifeless body collapsed heavily at your feet, you looked towards Astarion, who had just thrust his blade into the heart of the man you had imprisoned earlier in your vines. Karlach and Lae'zel slaughtered the last ones who resisted them. Silence fell around you, it was finally over. You drew a breath and made the climbing plants disappear with a wave of your hand.

"'Is everyone alright?" you asked, wiping the blood from your cheek.

"Affirmative, soldier," Karlach replied.

"Tsk. Orin's tracking us like wild fowl, I cannot wait to give her a taste of my blade." added Lae'zel.

"Let's get back to camp" you announced.

Astarion seemed far too quiet for you. You still had enough strength left to open a portal leading directly to camp. Lae'zel and Karlach stepped through, soon followed by Astarion and you. A step through and you found yourself facing the campfire in the center of the old barn. Your eyes hovered over your three companions standing beside you. Karlach had a few scratches but didn't seem to be suffering, Lae'zel had superficial wounds that still merited some treatment, and Astarion seemed to be fine - well, he seemed elsewhere.

You thanked Halsin and Shadowheart, who had come to treat the wounded. You chose to treat your wounds alone with your own ointments and elixirs. As you headed for your tent, footsteps behind you made you turn around. It was Astarion.

"Are you wounded?" you asked, worried.

"Well.. Yes," he sighed, pouting.

"Why didn't you say something?"

"For nothing in the world would I miss an opportunity to be healed by my favorite druid." he grinned, winking.

You sighed at his words. Despite his smile, you noticed his discomfort, you tried to examine him carefully and found the source of his pain, a cut on the inside of his arm. The blood dripping from it blended in with the dark fabric of his outfit. You let him into your tent, your little sanctuary had become very familiar to him. This time, however, he didn't sit, he stood. You approached him and started undoing the buttons on his jacket, then on the shirt underneath. You could feel his gaze scrutinizing your every move, but you remained focused. You were imperturbable, especially when it came to treating wounds. You slid your hands under the fabric and against his skin, the contrast of his icy skin against yours always surprised you. You slid the garment as gently as possible.

"This is getting ridiculous,' finally said Astarion.

"What's that?" you asked without understanding and without taking your eyes off his wound. The blade had ripped his skin, but if care was taken, it would heal properly.

"This. You keep helping me, at the risk of getting yourself hurt. This is ridiculous."

"It's not ridiculous, the situation was under control," you replied. It wasn't totally true, though; you'd just been lucky and had a good reflex.

You grabbed a wooden bowl containing a mixture of weavemoss and mugwort bundle that would stop the bleeding. Your touch and the coolness of the mixture made him shiver, its effect was immediate, the blood stopped. You wrapped the wound in a clean bandage then you finally looked at him. His scarlet eyes never left your face.

"Your compulsive kindness sickens me," continued Astarion. "I am forever in your debt, and I do not know how to repay it. Tell me what you want. Tell me what to do."

You kept staring at him, completely stunned by his words, and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. For him, pure altruism didn't exist. Life was just a succession of exchanges or debts that absolutely had to be repaid. You wanted him to see beyond that.

"I don't want anything in return, Astarion. Why is it so hard for you to understand that I'm doing this because I care about you?" you replied. "I simply don't want to lose you"

Astarion seemed genuinely troubled by your words. You'd never been false to him. You cared about this vampire spawn. You'd shared many moments together, but the ones you preferred, apart from the nights spent by his side, were when you treated his scars or healed his wounds. These were intimate moments, that you cherished because they allowed you to discover his vulnerability. The same vulnerability you were seeing at that very moment. He allowed himself to emerge from the darkness of his past that threatened to envelop him to stand in the light beside you.

"It is even more annoying." he sighed. He moved his hand over your cheek, sliding his thumb over the dried blood that had drained from your cut. "But I rather like that idea, that you care about me."

.。・゜・。..。・゜・。..。・゜・。..。・゜・。..。・゜・。..。・゜

i'm not totally satisfied with what I've written but thank you for reading it, feel free to check out my other writings on Astarion! ♥︎♥︎

Astarion x gn reader : On your skin (pt 1)

Astarion x gn reader : A thousand thanks

Astarion x gn reader : No place for love

Fic : Astarion x Fem! bard Tav : Fruit of the Poisonned Tree

[seth-whumps]

a comprehensive overview of burns and burn treatment: whump writer reference edition

extremely long post ahead! here's the lowdown:

Degrees of a burn (first through sixth)

First aid

Medical treatment

Complications and infection

A Whump Writer's Reference/Recap

End notes

(also huge shout out to @i-eat-worlds for helping me out! this is all inspired by a one-shot, and they hopped in to give me some ideas and things to research. thank you worlds!)

(disclaimer: I am not a doctor, nor have I been to medical school. this is done through research and from the eyes of a writer. if I have incorrectly listed something, correct me via an ask and I will change it. thanks for understanding!)

1. Burn degrees

There are six degrees of burns. The first three, lower level degrees, are the most common. Here's a quick overlook on all of your options:

First degree: A superficial burn affecting only the outer layer of skin. Symptoms include redness, itchiness, dryness, and a low-to-medium level of pain. Scarring is possible, but minimal.

Partial second degree: Extends past the outer layer of skin and partially into the second layer. Symptoms include darker red tones, blistering, swelling, white splotches, and higher levels of pain. Complications include infections.

Deep second degree: Extends deeper into the second layer of skin. Symptoms include severe pain, dark red, blistering and swelling. Scarring is much more common here.

Third degree: Burns surpassing the skin layers and entering the layer of fat below it. Symptoms include black, brown, yellow or white leathery skin, either intense pain or numbness if nerve endings were burned, loss of feeling and movement.

Fourth degree: Extending into muscle. Symptoms include complete lack of pain, burn site is charred and blackened or white and lifeless, possible exposure of bone. Complications include infection, loss of feeling, and can require amputation.

Fifth and sixth degrees: Past muscle and into or through bone. Symptoms include exposed or charred bone, similar to fourth degree in coloration. Complications result in permanent body damage, total loss of skin and nerve endings, and fatalities from just the burn.

2. First aid

Upon immediately receiving a mild burn covering a small portion of your body, such as your forearm or hand, run it under lukewarm or cool water* for twenty minutes. This will encourage the skin to cool and release trapped heat, reducing damage later.

Ice cold or freezing water will cause blood vessels to constrict. This lowers the blood supply to the burn, further damaging the tissues, and increasing swelling, pain, and chances of scarring.

*If there is no running water, immersing or using a wet towel are your next best options. Keep in mind that cloth contact on a burn is painful and despite the cooling effect will still be uncomfortable.

Upon receiving a severe burn (third degree and beyond), you'll want to cover the wound with a clean cloth and get to emergency help immediately.

If the skin is broken, do not use water. Any possible pathogens or bacteria can get inside the body and cause sepsis, which we'll go over in the next section.

Upon a victim receiving burns on over 20% of their body, you'll want to remove any jewelry, belts or tight items to release heat and promote breathing. Cover the burn in a clean dry cotton cloth if possible. Check for symptoms of shock, and administer CPR if necessary. Call services to bring care to you, or aid the victim in getting to emergency care immediately.

Although you want to remove metal and jewelry, you do not want to attempt the removal of cloth stuck to the skin. Doing so can cause open wounds and increase the chances of infection, detailed in the next section.

3. Medical treatments

Upon entering medical assistance, the victim will first be stabilized with oxygen/machine breathing and fluids. After the patient is stabilized, focus returns to the burn.

There are three main goals to medical treatment of a burn: reducing/minimizing oedema, or fluid buildup in tissue, reducing tissue damage, and preventing infection. Treatments include:

1. Fluid replacement: Replacing fluids to the body through an intravenous (IV) or intraosseus (IO) infusion. Fluid loss can be caused by dehydration, vomiting, diarrhea, bleeding, or fluid shifts*.

2. Hyperbaric treatment: exposing the body to 100% oxygen content. This can increase circulation, reduce oedema, and assist in the preservation of damaged tissue.

3. Uses of antibiotics or topical ointments: Aloe vera is a topical lotion used to cool minor burns like sunburns. Mafenide is the most commonly used antibiotic to protect against infection in severe burns, and bacitracine for minor burns.

To clean a burn wound, rinse it in water and wash it gently. Pat it dry, and cover it in an antibiotic ointment. Then, cover it with a clean, dry gauze, and wrap it with a bandage. Avoid sticking bandages that will pull against damaged skin, and avoid rubbing alcohol, iodine and hydrogen peroxide, which will slow the healing of the wound. Do not pop blisters, as it increases the chances of infection. Change the bandages daily.

4. Complications and infection

And my favorite part: everything that goes wrong even after the initial burn.

1. Shock: A condition occurring after injury when the body isn't getting enough blood flow. This is an extremely lethal complication.

There are four kinds of shock, but the most common is hypovolemic. Symptoms can include pale, clammy skin, rapid and shallow breaths, rapid pulse, anxiety, confusion, disorientation, weakness, nausea and vomiting.

To treat shock: if the victim's legs are unaffected, raise them above their heart, immobilize any fractures and administer first aid, loosen any tight clothing, and maintain the victim's body temperature. The warmer they are, the faster the blood flow.

2. Capillary leak syndrome: A condition common in burns, when anti-inflammatory chemicals are released, causing the capillary walls to shrink and allow fluids like plasma and water to leak out.

The body's blood pressure rapidly drops. White blood cells can escape, which assists in initial burn treatment, but now that it's outside the capillaries, any fluids lost can no longer circulate, leading to dehydration. This is the main cause of oedema, as stated above. Symptoms of CLS include malaise, lightheadedness, headache, and feeling faint or dizzy.

To treat CLS: Fluid replacement to ensure dehydration does not become too severe, and hyperbaric oxygen treatment can assist in increasing blood flow. Capillary permeability will lessen close to a day after the initial burn is recieved.

3. Hypothermia: A significant drop in body temperature, most commonly associated with prolonged exposure to the cold.

Yes, you read that right--you can get hypothermia from a burn. Victims of burns covering a large amount of body surface area (BSA) will have trouble retaining warmth, due to the heat of the burn attempting to escape. Symptoms include shivering, exhaustion, confusion, numbness in extremities, difficulty speaking or thinking and slow pulse.

To treat hypothermia: Treat the patient in a warm area, ensure any fluids in their IV or IO are warm, let them drink something warm, give them blankets, etc. etc.

4. Infection: when a wound is infected, bacteria or pathogens have entered and compromised the healing process. If left untreated, the infection can spread to the bloodstream and cause sepsis, an extremely dangerous condition resulting in organ failure or even death.

Infections are incredibly serious complications, especially when the burn covers more than 20% of the victim's BSA. Symptoms include fever, discoloration of the wound, pus or other leakage, increased heat around the wound, and possible foul smells emanating from it.

To treat infection: Additional antibiotics should be taken, possible added painkillers, daily cleaning may be increased to more than once a day. Occasionally products made from ionic silver may be used, which provide quicker clearing of infection.

5. Sepsis: Inflammation throughout the entire body, caused by infections leaking into the bloodstream. Critical and incredibly fatal if not treated properly.

Symptoms of sepsis may include but are not limited to: chills, dizziness, low blood pressure, fever, shivering, low temperature, confusion and altered consciousness, rapid and short breathing, delirium, rapid heart rate, organ dysfunction, skin discoloration and exhaustion.

To treat sepsis: Continue fluid replacements, possible mechanical ventilation, added use of antibiotics and steroids, added use of a catheter. Essentially, full hospitalization with constant medical attention until the body fights off remaining infections.

5. A Whump Writer's Reference/Recap

A short ending section of things to think about when writing a scene with a burn victim whumpee.

Before delving into the scene, decide which degree of burn your whumpee receives. First aid, treatment and symptoms will all depend on that.

When writing from the whumpee's point of view, use comparisons. Not everyone knows what it feels like to fall torso first into the bonfire at the house party, but everyone can imagine the flood of panic when you touch a hot stove--so use that metaphor and elevate it. The more description of the pain, the more involved you'll feel.

When writing from an outsider's point of view, don't be afraid to be gruesome. Be visceral. There are levels of discovery to a burn--initial receiving, panic and chaos, and seeing the entire wound--so really get those details in, make the reader see that burn in their mind's eye.

The pattern goes burn administered, first aid, medical treatment, and recovery/complications, so if you're like me and have trouble laying out scenes, use that as a backbone.

Touching a severe burn and removing your hand can take the skin with it! It's gross, but great for shock factor!

All those times I said "do not do this, do not do that"? Ignore 'em when you're writing. You can make the worst of the situation. Not everyone knows first aid, so if you want the pain, let your caretakers screw up, and badly. The consequences are listed too, so play around!

Some words to use when describing the pain of a burn:

Burn, fire, flame, inferno, blinding, flash, disintegrate, digging, agony, pull, tear, rip, burrow, cave, searing, roaring, boiling, sizzling, melting, ache, pins and needles, blurring, catch, white hot, coil, threading, frenzy, howling, writhing, thrashing, pulsing, torture, numbing, chafing, loss of feeling

And some words to describe someone who's been badly burned:

Pale, pallid, heaving, shaky, shivering, dizzy, swaying, hissing, panic, sweating, fluttering, weak, nauseous, thready pulse, limp, hoarse, shuddering, slumped, in and out of consciousness, exhausted, mumbling, murmuring, incoherent

6. End notes

things to look up for further study: burn pathophysiology, capillary permeability, and first aid treatment of burns. this is all just for first glance and ideas, if you get stuck in a scene like I did, so do further research if you want to!

thanks for reading, folks! i hope you enjoyed this very very long post. do you want to see more of these, or do you prefer the shorter prompts? if I make another reference list like this, what would you like to see?

have a cookie for making it to the end 🍪 and go drink some water. i hope you have a wonderful day!

(sources: Mayo Clinic, Cleveland Clinic, National Institutes of Health, and many others. this isn't an official research paper, it's a tumblr post, and I don't claim to have written the articles myself. these words are compiled for wide range of reference for writers specifically, and not for deliberate study. thank you for reading!)

[icycoldninja]

idk if this is to angsty or upsetting for you but this is an idea floating around in my head. DMC2! Dante x Fem wife reader who died in childbirth (it was a complicated pregnancy and it was unknown if she or the child would live) and there daughter looks very much like her so she’s a physical reminder of what he lost so he vows to protect her from the darkness of the world.

Oh don't worry, this isn't too much, this is right up my alley. 😁 Enjoy!

For you (DMC2!Dante x Fem!Reader angst)

From the very beginning, you and Dante realized your pregnancy would be very unique. You were almost always nauseous and in pain; doing simple tasks left you winded. Dante took you to as many doctors as he could afford, but none of them could provide clear insight on your situation without contradicting one another. The best, most logical and unanimous diagnosis they could agree on was that it was a side effect of Dante's demon DNA. They told you that due to the rarity of your situation, they couldn't offer you any treatment. All you could do was take it easy, avoid emotional and physical turmoil, cross your fingers, and hope for the best.

You and Dante tried your best to manage the pain and other ailments, but deep down, the both of you knew this pregnancy wouldn't turn out well.

"It's gonna be alright, I'm sure of it," Dante insisted one night, running a hand over your swollen belly.

"Yeah...you're right," You sighed, reaching up to rub your eyes. "I just gotta relax, think positive."

"Right," Dante agreed, kissing your cheek. "Now get some rest, and remember, I love ya." He then moved down to your belly and kissed that too. "And I love you too, my little baby. Can't wait for you to be here."

Chuckling, you watched as Dante returned to his previous position, and rolled over to face him, sighing contentedly before closing your eyes.

"Night, Dante."

"Night, babe."

Little did the two of you know that very soon, your lives would be changed, drastically.

When you went into labor, which was about a month before your due date, everything was turned upside down. You were rushed to the hospital, worried for your baby, and Dante was internally and externally panicking, violently swearing at literally every little thing he interacted with. By the time you got to the emergency room, you were already in so much pain, you were screaming loud enough to be heard two floors up.

Dante watched anxiously as doctors and nurses frantically raced back and forth with the necessary equipment to deliver the premature baby. His heart was pounding in his chest; sweat was running down his forehead, but he held strong and gripped your hand for balance. He needed to remain calm, for your sake.

It took several hours to deliver the baby, but once she was free, you and Dante were sure your troubles were over. The little infant was small and pink-skinned, yes, but alive, and you two were grateful for that. Dante gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before handing your newborn over to the doctor so she could get proper treatment.

Dante was sure the storm had passed; that now, everything would be fine, but then he noticed how pale you were, how tired and lifeless your eyes looked.

"Hey, Y/N? You alright?" He asked, and when you didn't answer, he began to panic again. "Babe? Come on, answer me!"

Your eyes blinked slowly, far slower than normal, even for a tired person. Then they shut, your eyelids gradually sinking downwards at a pace that made it seem as if time had slowed down. Dante watched in horror as your head lolled to the side, your blue-tinged lips learning in one last exhale.

Dante continued to sit there in stunned silence, processing what had just happened while doctors and nurses desperately tried to jumpstart your heart, but nothing worked. You were truly gone; gone for good. All Dante had left was your newborn baby girl, who right now, was crying in her cradle, though not nearly as loud as he was now.

Fortunately for the heartbroken man, your baby survived her premature birth and quickly grew into a sweet, lovely little girl. Dante did his best to take care of her, becoming a complete girl dad in the process, and as she grew, noticed how much she looked like you. With every year that passed by, your little daughter just seemed to become more and more like you, in both appearance and personality. It was like you'd been reincarnated as your own kid; like God had given you a second chance in the form of your daughter so you'd never have to be apart.

To show his appreciation for this blessing, Dante vowed to protect your little girl and keep her safe for as long as he lived, both for her sake, and for you.

[v-era-18]

HoneyBee

Chapter Seven: Sleep Talk

“ Even the best of hero’s have nightmares. It's how they conquer them, that makes them worthy enough for the title,”- (G/D) (L/n)

7

Energon. Screams. Blasts. Falling!

The young brown skinned girl woke up with a start, tears flooded her honey eyes as she stared at the dark depths of her room. The twist and turns of the shadows didn't make things better as she could still hear and see the war terrorist from her nightmares; the red glowing optics to the angler metal of his faceplate. His whole design screamed ‘fear me’. Her grandfather went a little too into detail when telling her the story, he stopped shortly after she started to shy away underneath the covers. It was too real. 

(Y/n) could almost vividly see the metal sword in her hands, swish and flick of her tail in her peripherals as the autobot leader gave orders to the autobots for their mission. It was everything she could imagine, fighting alongside hero’s for their planet. That was until everything they had accomplished was stripped from their arms within a few minutes. Scouts turned up missing, wreckers removing themselves from the fight as lost hope began to emerge, don't even get her started on the captains and sargents. 

She wanted to be that hero that would earn the words ‘well done’ by a Prime. In the end, she was a fool. A child that didn't know any better. 

She almost died, she could still feel her weightless body flowing through the air nearly hitting the metal ground below. It was horrible the sights she had seen; torn metal appendages, energon spilled-dried and fresh, to the lifeless cybertronian bodies laid in vast piles. These were the parts of war she had nightmares about-the cost of the auto bot cause, millions of lives and deaths thrown away for a planet that might not ever be the same way again. 

She needed to leave the dark. She didn’t want to think of those red optics scratching down her small form. 

(Y/n) got out from under the covers with space cadet number five-her teddy bear- and made the decision to seek out her grandparents in their room. It had been awhile since she’s done so, after all she was twelve now and needed to stop relying on her grandparents for these sort of things such as comfort. But the grave voice of that monster continued to echo in her head. 

‘Run little knight! But your death awaits today!’

 The master bedroom was at the end of the hall. It had a large bookshelf in the far corner along with a desk littered with papers that were no doubt the affairs of the (L/n) library. The walls were pure ivory. ‘We leave the walls white like a canvas ready to be painted.’ The bed was a carved one-antique- harboring the foreign language not made for the human youngest. She never could figure out what it said, Nana said she would be told when she was older. 

The door to they’re bedroom was already open, on the other side she could hear their voices halting her movements. Her grandmother was upset, her voice rolling out in hisses she used in order not to wake her up when they were arguing. (GD/N) sat on the bed rubbing his head in frustration, his hair was long gone by now, only his beard and eyebrows left. 

“I can’t believe you’re going through with this!” Nana said, she was pacing back and forth her clasped hands over her heart. One thing about her grandmother is that her emotions affect her heart severely due to her age: one day something was going to give her a heart attack out of pure fright, “there’s an opportunity for you to live longer and you won’t take it-“ 

“I’ll live for a few more years with the treatment, but love-I’ve already lived a life worth living,” his mind was made up, he wasn’t going to sit by and invest money in a treatment to give himself a few more years, “You could use that money to put (Y/n) through college-“ 

“What about her?! You care enough about her education but not enough about her heart when she hears about your health?!” She sobbed, “She’s already lost her parents! Not to mention Estel who she can’t even remember. She can’t afford to lose someone else!”

“(GM/N) I-“

A creak of the door halted the two’s conversation, immediately looking towards the opened door seeing a stray teddy bear in its place. (GD/N) could hear the creak of another closing door at the end of the hall, giving them the answer to his suspicions. 

(Y/n) was never good at pretending to fall asleep, especially when she was in trouble, or her mind continued to be active with endless possibilities. So when her grandfather sat on the end of her bed she decided to give it up and peek under the covers slightly. 

The older man before her doesn't seem upset in the slightest, only a sad look in his eyes and a patient smile upon his lips. She opened her mouth to apologize for eavesdropping only for him to cut her off, “I'm sorry to wake you up sweetheart. That wasn't something you needed to hear-especially on a school night.” He fondled her teddy bear in his hands a bit before passing it over. 

She gave it a little hug in response, “You didn't wake me up pops, i-it was him,” saying his name almost felt like a sin. A ‘he who shall not be named’ vibe with how much evil radiated off of him. 

(G/D) brought the girl into his arms and kissed her forehead softly, it felt almost bittersweet with how much she had heard. She wasn't oblivious to what was going on; the less frequent stories at night, how tired he had grown so much he would miss out on dinner sometimes, to the way he had to force a smile after each cough. She knew her grandfather wasn't well, but just for a moment she didn't want to discuss it, she wanted to live a bit oblivious a little bit longer. 

Oblivious to the fact he one day wouldn't be here to tell her every story known to man. Her original storyteller. 

“He will not harm you,” He whispered in her hair, “he is far enough from your reach.” 

“Because he's eroding on some planet somewhere right pop pop?” (Y/n) smiled a bit expecting him to do the same only to receive a faltering smile instead. Her expression fell, and a sense of dread filled her stomach, “He is far away from earth right Pops? He is simply a legend…..fiction-,”

“I have told you many times (Y/n). Legends stem from some form of truth, whether it simply be stories altered over time or something the human mind simply can't comprehend.” (G/D) looked towards the bookshelves in her room, eyes landing on the leather books, “I at times couldn't comprehend, neither could my subconscious mind. But there at times would be a voice or two in my corner ready to prove and relay the message before it indeed became that in my mind-a story-fiction.” 

The young girls lips wobbled, “So he's going to come kill us all one day, and there's nothing I can do about it,” fat tears fell down her round cheeks as she furiously wiped them away, “How can I be a hero when all I do is have nightmares about that-that-stupid and selfish warlord and hide underneath the covers at the mention of him?” 

 “You are already beginning to act like a hero,” (GD/N) chuckled. His amusement to her augment fueled her frustration. Out of all the books she’s read it was hard to believe that cybertronian hero’s got scared, or were haunted by their terror. Could they even dream? When they recharge do they imagine what peace seems like? The families they could have and more? 

“No I'm not!” She argued, “A hero doesn't get scared! Optimus doesn't get scared! The book never once mentioned him getting scared or having nightmares!” 

“Ah,” He laughed, “That is indeed true, the book never mentions the Prime getting scared, but that doesn't mean he doesn't get scared like the rest of us. On the contrary, I bet every time he went on that battlefield his spark was pounding to the point he could barely give orders to his comrades. Lives are in his servos each time he goes on the battlefield-and that is indeed scary…especially if his most trusted friend is now his enemy, because he lost his way.” 

(G/D) grabbed the young girl's chin and held it high, “Even the best of hero’s have nightmares. It's how they conquer them, that makes them worthy enough for the title,” 

If he was going to leave, he was going to make sure she achieved this dream at least. Afterall, if things were to go down the way their family all knew, she would be the main successor out of all of them. The main hero of planet earth.

~ ✯ ~

The group made haste through the facility guiding the large cybertronian towards the Cube. Every second counted in this situation, there was no time for mistakes. It could be felt through the air: the tight tension of who was to die today and who could be saved. 

They made a mistake, and it was time to fix it. 

When they reached the room the cube was being held it took (Y/n) a minute to steady her breathing. Her eyes had gazed at it not even forty minutes ago from a safe distance, now that she was up close all the stories and legends told didn’t do it justice. The large encrypted block raided power. 

Life. 

Destruction. 

Sam dragged her out of her gaze by pulling on her sleeve guiding her to the side as large ped steps got closer. It was grounding, as if the bots' near presence was a shield from everything going on. They were his charge, no harm was going to befall them. 

The scout looked up at the cube for a minute before reaching up and placing his hands against it. Whirrs of wonder echoed from the young bot, leaving her to question if  he knew what to do in order for them to leave with it. It was huge! Too large to even drag it out of the building with five autobots to join in the haul. For a moment and just a moment, she did wonder if the pyramid were all cubes, the other half buried underneath the ground. It was ridiculous, colonizers couldn't break through cybertronian tech as well as they could rock. 

“Does he know what he’s doing?” Mikeala whispered to (Y/n).

“Of course he does,” she replied without hesitation, “he’s smarter than he lets you know.” 

Optics flickered to her for a moment sending chills down her spine. She hadn't realized he could hear them whispering, and hot shame boiled in her stomach as if she did something scandalous. She would have to at least write that down somewhere that autobout have advanced hearing. 

Bumblebee focused back on the cube placing his digits back up on it before an electric shock of blue consumed the cube. A metallic whirring could be heard along with the familiar shifting of metal as the artifact started to fold in on itself seeming to get smaller. He moved his hands in focus, seeming to instruct the cube what and how he wanted things to be done. 

The humans in the room could do nothing but watch in sheer amazement. After centuries and years of believing they knew everything only to find out they didn’t even have half of it was truly shocking. 

“Oh, my god,” Mikeala said, “(Y/n) this is-“ 

“More than I’ve ever dreamed of,” (Y/n) smiled, her hands were shaking at her side, tears welling up from too many emotions taking over, “Pops….I wish you could see this.” 

The cube finally shrunk down to the palm of the bot's hand, giving his digit a little shock as he examined it a little. He then turned to (Y/n), “Message from Starfleet, Captain. Let’s get to it.” 

“He’s right.” Lennoxx stepped forward, “We stay here, we’re screwed with Megatron in the other hangar. Mission City is twenty two miles away. We’re gonna sneak that Cube out of here and we’re gonna hide it somewhere in the city.” 

“Good! Right.” It seemed like a miracle that Simmons was agreeing with them. I guess the cube being handled by the robot was enough for them. 

“But we cannot make a stand without the Air Force.” 

“This place must have some kind of radio link?!” Questioned the Captain, “Shortwave, CB?”

“Yes. Right, yes!” Simmons said, “in the Aline Archive, there’s an old Army radio console.” 

“Will it work?”

“Anything is possible!” the agent exclaimed, gesturing towards Bumblebee and where the cube once was mounted. “Did you see that?!” 

“Sir, you got to figure out some way to get the word out to them.” The soldier said, he turned towards (y/n) her face apprehensive, “are there any problems with my plan? You know these guys better than we do.” 

Everyone turned to the girl expectantly, and it left her stomach doing twists. For some odd reason she looked up at Bumblebee, maybe hoping for an answer of his own. The only thing she received was a soft whirr and a nod. It didn’t need words, she knew what he was trying to say. 

“ U-uh, so there’s only two problems-,” 

“ Two?” Epps asked, “to be honest I was expecting more.” 

(Y/n) laughed lightly trying to shake her nerves, “ Yeah well we don’t really have time to go in with a full hardcore plan right now. If we’re going into this we must understand the risks. First ,” she turned to the Captain and Simmons , “Be prepared to barricade the room for the radio, if I know anything about autobots and deceptions is that they can easily tap into satellites-that especially counts towards radios and internet. A decepticon might be sent loose in the facility to try to stop you.” 

“Jesus,” Sam whispers. 

“Second, about the cube being hidden in the city, I don't agree with it but we don’t have other options at the moment.” The girl huffed, “while on the radio with the men send out an emergency alert to order civilians to exit the city. War with cybertronians  is nothing compared to war between humans. Thousands of people will die in this city if we are not careful. Am I clear?” 

Everyone nodded, “ Good. That uh-was my peace.” 

Mikaela smirked, “there’s the girl I got the hots for in the back of the class.” The girl missed the way the black and yellow bot snapped his head in her direction before an optic roll seemed appropriate. 

To be honest now wasn't the time for emotions to flow. 

Sam refrained from making a face, “ Let’s move before Megatron decides to use our bodies for target practice.” 

“ He actually has done that with a soldier that betrayed him before-”

“ (Y/n) not now! ” 

“ Alright Sam, (Y/n) get in the car! ” Lennoxx ordered, “ Mr. Secretary! Get our birds in the air! When we get to the city, we’re gonna find a radio, and I’ll have Epps vector them in, okay? ” 

“Affirmative!” 

Sam ushered into the passenger side seat with (Y/n) in the driver. Mikeala took it upon herself to protect the cube in the back. Personally (Y/n) would’ve done the job herself but a soldier had already shoved her in the driver's seat before she could protest. Bumblebee drove the facility with the soldiers on the rims of his tires. The exit seemed so far with the short amount of time they were making it through. 

“ WARNING! NBE ONE CRYO-CONTAINMENT FAILING. ”

(Y/n)’s heart stopped, “ What the fuck did that just say?! ” 

“ Oh boy, ” Sam uttered, “ Better get ready to haul ass Bee! ” 

“ Haul ass?! He better drive like he got some sense! Cause I’ll be damned if I die at the hands of that terrorist you hear me! ” 

A rumble of the engine from Bumblebee could mean two things: a scoff or a boisterous laugh. Now wasn’t the time to figure out which was which. 

“Set a perimeter around the yellow vehicle!” Lennox shouted. 

For support (Y/n) gripped the steering wheel trying to focus on the autobot insignia on the horn rather than the loud screams bouncing off the concrete walls. They successfully excited the facility with support ,they still weren’t out of the woods yet. They needed to reach the city to hide the cube or possibly had it off to Optimus. And Mission City was a few miles from their grasp. 

“The cubes okay?” Sam asked Mikeala

“Yeah, it’s fine,” She said, adjusting it in the seat. 

“Put the seatbelt around it” (Y/n) said quickly, “the less it moves the better” 

Even though it was minutes it felt like ages before they got far enough to feel safe for a moment. Even safe enough to quietly talk amongst themselves as teens if they would never do it again. 

“And here I thought I was going to go shopping this weekend for graduation.” Mikeala sniffed, “I’m the first to graduate high school in my family. It’s a big achievement and I wanted to look good when showing my potential future kids.” 

“I was going to write a Harry Potter quote on my cap with our grad year.” (Y/n) laughed lightly. It was true, originally it was going to be Star Wars, but she decided that the many hormonal boys in their grade would’ve bashed her. A girl loving something ‘sacred’ to them didn't seem on their wish list. 

Sam chuckled lightly as well, “lemme guess, ‘RONALD WHEALSLY HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR!’” the scream almost seemed like perfection at the moment, 

They bursted out in laughter. The only real time they’ve laughed without stress behind it. Bumblebee even let out a little rumble. 

“No, it was ‘Whenever in doubt, go to the library’” The girl giggled. 

Mikeala smiled, “ It suits you.” It did, the library was attached to her family in more ways than one. It was her livelihood, almost like Banes Motorcycle shop was to her. “But honestly now you need to change it to ‘I saved the world I deserve more than this piece of paper.’” 

There was a moment of silence before it was abruptly cut through with a blade of a truck horn. Seeing the familiar vehicle made the girl smile in triumph, it seemed like things were turning around with the reunion. 

“There’s Optimus,” Sam announced.

The teens watched the autobot leader along with his team screech their tiers against the ground in a sharp turn before following them quickly behind. (Y/n) knew deep down the autobots we’re glad to see Bumblebee alright once more. Their scout had survived, although young, Bumblebee is a lot tougher than one could describe. But she had a feeling they knew that already, they had watched him come or of hard situations before right? 

It was another few miles before they heard it. Sirens. At first (Y/n) had thought their plan of getting in touch with the government worked pretty quickly, that was until she spotted the military truck and  behind it. It was a domino effect; two of the drivers surrounding them were taken out swiftly with the truck crashing and flipping them over. 

The girl could only sit in the seat and stare her eyes widening as she stared at the side mirror. Abruptly she was yanked back further in her seat by the seat belt and the windows were rolled up completely. 

“Are they-are they-“ she couldn’t finish. 

“No no no no no no,” Sam said, watching the rearview. 

“What?” Mikeala asked. 

“It’s the same cop!” Sam hissed, “the one that attacked me and (Y/n) before. Block ‘em, block em, block em, block em!” 

The military truck transformed first on the road, the ground shaking abruptly behind them as a fierce roar was let out from the decepticon. The enemy's enthusiasm was short lived as the autobot leader followed suit, making it his mission to be the defense as they continued forward. (Y/n) yanked a bit on the seat showing the scout she wished to see the action a bit more. 

A Prime in action wasn’t something you see everyday. 

A look in the side mirror led her heart to accelerate. The decepticon had skated purposefully into a civilian bus on the highway, the flames rode on the road watching fellow cars skid to a halt at the destruction the cybertronian had caused. Optimus unfortunately was a bit too late turning around, Sam let out a yelp as the autobot leader was tackled off of the skying road to the ones on the ground below. 

(Y/n) snapped off the seatbelt with a new rush of adrenaline and rushed to Sam's side of the vehicle to see the fight below. A car was just a sliver away from the fight and she could only pray that the civilians inside wouldn’t be harmed. Optimus was the first to throw a strong hook into the cons faceplate then taking them further down to another level of the roads. 

To see the Prime handle his adversary with determination and sheer strength was breathtaking. His sword’s protruding from his servos where nothing like she imagined. Were they hot or cold? They were a fiery yellow gradient to orange, and to see the damage they caused to the decepticon was chilling. The leader landed one final blow stabbing upwards through the enemies neck cabling, sparks flew everywhere before a snap sounded and the cons head rolled along the ground. 

“Wow…” a breath left the Afro hairs lips, “ And that was only one decepticon. What was it like when he invaded bases with only three comrades by his side.” 

Sam shook his head, “I dunno if I want to imagine that. Did you see what he just did?” 

“I am so glad we got in this car.” Mikeala whispered. 

A sliver of a memory of her grandfather warped in her mind. The comfort of his arms to the gentle peck on her forehead, “ Even Optimus gets scared,” 

“I wonder how scared he is right now.” (Y/n) thought carefully, “my hands are shaking with the whole world in our hands. Imagine thinking of his world and protecting ours as well. His home is lost and he’s protecting ours from the thing that can possibly give them another planet.” 

Sam and Mikeala both looked at each other, their eyes speaking for themselves without words. 

Exactly what did they get themselves into? And what will be the cost if either side wins? 

Upon arriving at Mission City, (Y/n)’s whole mood shifted. Uncertainty took over as she scanned the roads crowned by fleeing civilians and cars left along the roads. It was a reminder of how much was at stake. To think just staring at one road filled with people makes you think about the whole world; about classrooms, children, families, friends, even enemies. 

Cause at the end of the day if this doesn’t work. They’ll all be damned. 

The aircraft’s above reassured her that they indeed had taken her advice. Simmons and the others had made it out long enough to send a message out. Even though she didn’t like him-doesn't mean she can’t respect his bravery and service. 

Sam pulled his best friend out of the car along with Mikeala. The cube rested in the backseat making the girl nervous; to be honest she felt like it needed to be held at all times. She had a feeling that if she looked away long enough it would disappear and all their efforts would be for naught. Even with all the heavy duty surrounding them in the street she still felt too exposed. 

“Green smoke is the mark. Provide air cover and vector Black Hawks for extraction.” Epps ordered. 

A thunderous aircraft circled a building, flying recklessly to be there. (Y/n) broke off from Sam peering closely before it dawned on her. To think that there wasn’t going to be any hacking with the transmissions between other aircraft was foolish-and she even forgot about it for a moment- and she was the one who had warned them about it. Through her most recent books of studies there were only a few aircraft’s recorded decepticons. And only two really mattered. 

The Terrorist. And his Second Command. 

The tales she had heard about Starscream made her laugh and grow frustrated. To think that one of the most dangerous decepticons was a coward and the most brutal was very contradictory. One that really stuck with her was the battle he had with three scouts, apparently there was only one that was able to outsmart Starscream and escape. It had led the commander to grow more hostile to scouts and lower ranks of the autobot cause as a result. 

He had learned his lesson that ranks don't matter on the battlefield. Only wit and sheer determination. 

“Oh shit-” 

“It’s Starscream!” Ironhide announced transforming causing the other autobots to follow. The weapon’s specialist immediately started to get to work on a barrier for protection, “Backup! Take Cover! Bumblebee!” The scout was right behind him picking up a blue truck for a shield. The moment would’ve been something to marvel at however the expending screams ruined it. 

“No,no, no, no, no! Move!” Lennox ordered, he grabbed two other soldiers from their posts gesturing for others to follow suit. It was obvious the aircrafts were not going to be able to defend them against Starscream in time, and now that (Y/n) thought about it was probably for the best.  The fire back from the decepticon would have led to many plane crashes leaving more casualties in the city with the tall buildings. 

“Back up! Back up!” 

“Retreat! Fall back!” But it was futile; the tanks were already in position and all they could do was get out of them. The men stumbled over themselves to get away from the danger before them. Civilians being dragged along the way if they were hiding in nearby alleys and stores. 

(Y/n) grabbed both Mikaela and Sam ducking for cover. Her heart was racing, she made it halfway on the ground before she felt it, the hot sizzling explosion causing the ground to rumble and break before them.  They flew a few feet from impact, blinding them for a few moments. 

“Anybody hurt? Everyone in okay?” Lennox screamed. He helped Mikeala giving her a once over before turning to Sam, “Where’s (Y/n)?!”

The said girl was on her side by a gray vehicle turned upside down. She let out a small whimper before shifting on her back, accidentally hitting her head against metal. At first she thought it was debris from the explosion, possibly from the truck. Until her eyes focused from the fog, seeing the infamous black and yellow signature of a cybertronian ped. 

Only the thing is-it wasn’t attached to its owner. 

[black-is-iconic]

Its Okay Not To Be Okay

"There's no need for such hostility ," Tanjiro chides softly stepping in-between you and the pale skinned boy with a short spikey black mohawk and shaved sides, that  you had accidentally bumped into  causing a little scuffle.

Your hands grasped your katana, ready to cut the little boy down to size but then you noticed two twins girls skin pale as snow.

Eyes wide, yet empty like  lifeless dolls as their lips pulled into a quaint smile "welcome back everyone and congratulations" they spoke in unison with a dead pan expression and identical dull voices.

"We're pleased to see your safe" as they continued speaking you found your interesting waning as you took in the state and amount of survivors for this years final selection.

It was just pitiful, out of the twenty candidates who entered the final selection only four came out (not including you).

One yellowed haired coward, dressed in a yellow and orange gradient hoari crying in a corner and rambling about how he's doomed and destined to die.

An arrogant prick who think's he's hot shit, an obnoxious little do-gooder and some basic bitch dressed in in pink watching butterflies.....they all seemed to be pretty ruffed up besides the one in pink but it's clear as day this years final selection has been a fail.

The sound of cawing broke you from your train of thoughts as crows flew crow down and landed on everyone's shoulder, except for the sniffling coward he got a sparrow.

Your crow landed gracefully on your shoulder, looking you directly in the eye with it's beautiful ruby hued pupil. Unlike everyone's else's  crows which boasted blackish purple feathers, yours was stark white with pink talons and a pink beak.

 You stroked its wings gently, as its feathers ruffled and it's head bowed in a polite greeting which you returned.

As you contemplated names for your companion the boy in purple caussed a fuss, shaking away his crow and rambling like a child about receiving his sword.

While stalking over to the twin with white hair and grabbing her by the hair, your brows furrowed in a displeased manner watching him man handle the girl who was only doing her job.

You were slightly off put by her lack of response but before you could move Tanjiro was already on it stalking towards the prick with a soft scowl.

They had a little dispute which ended in Tanjiro causally breaking the pricks arm, without hesitation.

The black haired twin continued to speak, revealing a table or ores and instructing the group to pick one and while everyone else hesitated you and Tanjiro stepped forward observing the table of ore.

Each was a different shape and size, and it really didn't matter to you what ore got so you just picked any random one.

However as you grabbed for an ore, Tanjiro grabbed for the same one and you wound up grasping each others hands, you flinched and pulled your hand away shocked by their calloused nature and how  warm their touch felt.

"S-Sorry you can have that one if you like" he awkwardly laughed, raising his hands in surrender as you glared a him picking up the ore and tossing it to the twin with white hair.

"It'll take about ten to fifteen days for your swords to be made, as of right now your all demons slayers, their are ten ranks, Mizunoto, Mizunoe, Kanoto, Kanoe, Tsuchinoto, Tsuchinoe, Hinoto, Hinoe, Kinoto, and Kinoe. In that order, you will all be starting as Mizunoto this is the lowest rank in the demon slayer corpse- well except for Y/N she will being starting as rank Tschinoto".

The twins spoke softly and everyone's eyes darted to you, "hey why does she get special treatment what makes her so much different than us?"

He growled and your eyes involuntarily rolled "there were one hundred demons in this years final selection" the white haired twin continued and the prick's almost nonexistent eyebrows furrowed  "so?"

He demanded crossing his arms "she killed sixty seven of them"  the twins replied simply,  once again you were the center of attention and it made your skin crawl a little "may I leave now?"

You asked the twins who nodded and bowed in respect which you returned, you completely ignored the ramblings of mister prick only stopping when tanjiro's fingers found themselves wrapped around your wrist.

"U-um I never got your name" he mumbled softly looking at you with a quaint smile, but you yanked your hand free from his grasp continuing your walk.

"That's because I didn't give it, and I don't plan to. Look you seem like a swell guy, but  I'm not interested in making friends with you. I have more important  things to worry about, and every minute I spend mindlessly chatting with you. Is a second another human life is in danger, so if your done wasting my time I'm going to go train".

He frowned slightly and you almost felt bad......almost, mr prick growled "don't think you're better than us just because your a higher rank. "

A heavy sigh falls from your lips as you turned around, rubbing your temples having grown tired of his bullshit. "First and foremost I don't think I'm better than you I am better than you, secondly I saw you in the forest swinging around your sword without any form of control or discipline. I'm surprised your not dead, but I'm sure that won't last long, I  watched you for a minute because I thought you were a helpless  idiot off to a rough start. But then I realized it wasn't the case. Your just awful" you spat venomously.

 "No technique, no plan, not even a breathing style your just some average joe with a chip on his shoulder swinging around a sword and hoping it'll do something. Well news flash, it doesn't. This isn't some game it's a way of life, and from what I saw one your not suited for. Quit being a demon slayer before you further embarrass yourself, and someone has to bury you. Go do something a little more on your level, and leave the slaying to those of us who are actually  qualified for the position. "

you hissed glaring at him from over your shoulder before beginning your journey home.

[thisisapaige]

for suptober22 day 10: enchanted

The bunker appeared massive from Dean's vantage point. The library table he stood upon was a vast prairie of finished wood. The lights overhead felt like a thousand blazing suns. The two faces staring down at him belonged to giants. Sam was always huge, but now he was King Kong-sized. Cas really was the size of the Chrysler Building. 

"What happened to him?" Cas's voice rumbled from far above, vibrating the table. 

Dean slid across the surface. Sam reached down and stopped Dean's movement with a hand the size of a turkey meant to feed a family of twelve. 

"He touched an enchanted object while we were cleaning the storage room," Sam said. He walked out of view, his footsteps echoing thunder. He returned with the object in question, a sparking green jewel wrapped in a plaid hand towel, and showed it to Cas. "I told him to be careful."

Dean would have protested, pulled a face, punched him, or something. But that Dean couldn't. Dean couldn't do much of anything. He had a featureless face save for his green button eyes, an oval body, and four rounded limbs in the approximation of legs and arms protruding from it. 

He was a crochet doll. Not even a good one.

Causing a crash and an earthquake, Cas crouched to be at eye-level with Dean. Cas's face was huge, blue eyes the size of oceans, the stubble across his cheeks a forest, and the nails on the end of his fingers resting on the table shining pools of holy light. Dean figured most people would look horrible at this angle, but Cas appeared divine, good. Dean felt like he'd snatched a small, privileged glimpse of the true form hidden under Cas's vessel. It must be beautiful.

On the other hand, Sam wasn't fairing so well from Dean's perspective. He could see right up Sam's nose. Oh, Dean was handing him the trimmer the second he had usable hands.

Cas cupped a hand around Dean's new body, his touch warm, gentle, and tingling with grace. "I can feel his presence. He is alive. Just..." 

"A half-finished amigurumi doll?" Sam sighed. The resulting wind would have launched Dean over the table's edge if Cas hadn't been holding him steady. "How do we fix him?"

Cas held his free hand out to Sam. "May I see that gem?"

Sam carefully placed the object in Cas's hand, the towel covering every piece of exposed skin. Cas stared at it, at the swirling green light in the centre, his brow wrinkling in concentration. He concentrated for so long, Dean wondered if the gem could make time stop, too. He would have that kind of luck. 

"Sam," Cas said, "please stand back."

The resulting booms indicated that Sam followed the command, then Dean's world tipped sideways. Everything blurred as he moved. Dean couldn't shut his plastic eyes to stave off the motion sickness. His yarn stomach lurched and churned, if that were possible, as he ascended up, up, up.

Finally, it stopped, and Dean realized he was safely cupped in Cas's palm. It was kind of nice if he ignored the circumstances. It was similar to lounging in a hammock, if the hammock was made out of fleshy appendages. 

Okay, Dean made it weird.

Ringing filled the room, then bright blue light blotted out everything. The blue became mixed with green, and Dean unravelled.  

Literally. 

While it didn't hurt, it was a strange sensation, like how he imagined a ferret flattening its body to shove itself through the gap in the bottom of a closed door felt. It began with his leg, the yarn stretching and spinning until it was the size of a human's, one at a time. His arms suffered the same treatment until his cotton parts turned into skin, muscle, and bone. The transformation ended when Dean's eyes formed, pushing the two buttons out until they clacked against the floor.

The light faded and the noise ceased. Cas dropped the gem, which skidded under the table, dull, dark, and lifeless. 

Dean's ears rang. His swallowed, his throat dry. Dean's limbs, Dean's human limbs, swung in the air. He blinked over and over again to clear his vision.

Holy shit, Cas held him in his arms, one hand at his back and the other at his knees. Dean didn't try to free himself, didn't want to. Instead, he rested his head against Cas's broad muscled chest. He felt Cas's eyes on him and looked up to meet them, smiling shyly. Dean could swim in that ocean.

"Hey, Cas," Dean said. "Thanks for the rescue." 

Cas tipped his head. "Of course, Dean."

Sam loudly cleared his throat from behind them. Dean and Cas paid him no mind.