#also yes clothing remains my enemy

[foxofsunholt]

some adelaide concepts!

[izzabela]

Hear me out hear me out.

A make out sesh with the masked characters while they still have their masks on plus the female characters if you’d be so kind.

Please and thank you.

Off or On? - MK1 (2023) Roster x GN!reader (scenario fic)

in which you make out with some of the characters with their masks on

a/n: guys... ermac may be cool but they still a dead body...

ship[s]: bi han, tomas, kuai liang, kitana, mileena, rain, reptile, general shao, takeda x gn! reader (scenarios)

warning(s): suggestive endings, kanon and non-kanon

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Bi Han - Coming Home

- You waited anxiously for Bi Han in the main courtyard, pacing in the snow as you limped on a crutch. The snow could be heard beneath your feet as you kept pacing

- Bi Han was away on another mission, taking your place since your injury rendered you unable to perform. It pissed you off, especially since Bi Han tasked his brothers to take care of you

- Now, you pace in circles as you wait for any signal that a portal would appear from thin air

-Suddenly, flickers and sparks appear in the air as they form in a circle. Fire borders the portal, and out walks the iconic blue uniform and black and silver mask of Bi Han

- He's got blood on the fabric, also on his pants, but his hands remain clean. His mask also has bits of blood on it, but it adds to the charm of it all. He sighs as he walks out, and his mask hides the little smile on his face as you limp over to him and throw yourself in his arms

- "Welcome home, grandmaster," you say as you dig your face in his chest. Bi Han looks down at your face as you meet his eyes up above

- "Yes, thank you beloved," Bi Han says. He brushes your hair out of your face, and his eyes flutter close as he initiates a kiss

- Your lips meet something cold, but your eyes are closed and refusing to open. You pepper the mask with many kisses, and Bi Han realizes that his mask is still on

- "Apologies, my dear," he says as he takes his mask off. However, you stop him from taking it off

- "Keep it on... I like it like that," you whisper, hiding your face as it turns a little pink

- Bi Han chuckles as he sweeps you off your feet, beelining for the bedroom to give himself a proper welcome home with you

=====================

Tomas - Stay Quiet

- You and Tomas stay well-hidden in a tree, stalking the enemy for anything related to information regarding a new Earthrealm threat

- Unfortunately, nothing noteworthy appeared, and the enemy retires for the night, but not you two

- You both sit on a thick branch to rest, stretching and moving your limbs in order to stay fit and ready. Once all done, you lay down and have your head in Tomas's lap

- "You can't be tired already," Tomas gently scolds, petting your head as you giggle

- "I'm only resting, love. It'll take a lot more to wear me down," you say. Tomas chuckles, pulling you up in his lap and your eyes level with his

- Your hand cups his masked cheek, the rough material littered with scratches and dents from years of use

- However, it was an integral part of his identity, and an integral part to your physical attachment to him

- The mask perfectly hugs his lower face, and your fingers trace the silhouette of his mask. Tomas catches your hand and gently pulls it down and away

- Yours and his eyes become hazy, lidded with desire at the fact that there was some downtime for one another on this perilous mission

- You kiss the mask, and Tomas's hands roam your clothed back to pull you close. His breathing is muffled and labored, and he pulls away from you quickly to take it off

- "Wait! Don't take it off..." you tell him in a semi-hushed tone

- "Why? It will get in the way." Tomas is perplexed by your adamant refusal to his mask being off

- "I, uh..." you don't finish your sentence as you look away and cover your face. However, your neck is growing more colored as the warmth of embarrassment floods you

- Tomas just chuckles, pulling you close before his hands begin to roam under your uniform and undershirt

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Kuai Liang - Hard Day

- Kuai Liang's breath was hard and labored behind his mask, taking a break from training Shirai Ryu initiates

- He sat on the wooden platform of the compound, away from all the ruckus and yelling of the initiates. The wind was blowing perfectly, and the temperature outside was nice and cool

- What was not cool, though, was how you surprised him from behind. Still, he managed to move just in time to avoid your childish antics

- "Ah! So close..." you groan as your arms crossed over one another, missing his sides as he stands in front of you

- He chuckles, "That was a good attempt, but it appears you'll need more training." You sigh, and you both sit down together

- "Hard day?" you ask, and he nods as he removes his mask for a couple of minutes to drink some water

- You chuckle, taking his mask and help him to put it back on. He thanks you once you hook the ends of the mask to his ears

- Mistakenly, though, he kisses your forehead with the mask on. His eyes are wide, embarrassed as his eyes dart away from yours shyly. You don't mind though, and grab his face to meet your eyes

- "Don't turn away from me, dear," you say softly, planting a quick kiss on the cheek part of his mask

- You both lean in, and your lips collide with the metal of his mask. You can hear him breathing hard, and feel his hands exploring your body under your uniform

- "But my mask..." he whispers, voice drowned out by the thickness of his mask

- "I quite like it..." you say with a little blush

- He picks you up, and it seems Kuai Liang's hard day becomes easier with you in his arms, together in bed

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Kitana - Post-tournament

- Kitana sits alone, only the hanging wisterias and the stars her company

- Her sister was receiving treatment for Tarkat, meaning she had to fight in her place during the kombat tournament

- However, she was beaten by an Earthrealm farmer. A humble one. While she was pleased with his humility and great patience, it made her feel...

- Disappointed. A failure. She let her mother, her sister, and her kingdom down

- She sighs again as she blinks away tears that begin to roll out of her eyes. Her mask catches them, but the fabric begins to grow just a bit damp

- "Your highness?" a voice calls. She knows it, and she turns around to find a worried expression on your face

- "Ah, hello my love," Kitana sniffles as she elegantly covers her face with a fan of hers

- "Don't hide from me, dear, I heard you as I was coming to meet you," you tut and gently nag her

- She sighs yet again, not hiding her feelings as she pats the empty spot on the bench. You sit by her and hear about her performance and how it affected her

- "My dear," you cup her mask face as she begins to hiccup and cry a little more freely. "My dear, you still did exceptionally well!"

- You wipe her tears, peppering her face with kisses around her eyes and the places where her tears fell

- You then plant a kiss on her mask. While it is sturdy, it is made of Edenian fabric, so you can feel the outline of her lips

- You giggle as you pull away, but in past the tears that lined her eyes, the makeup she wore, it was clear she liked that

- "Shall I continue, dearest Kitana?" you ask, and she wraps her arms around you to pull you closer

- Your lips find hers again, and the mask gets just a little damp at how deep you're kissing the princess. Her breath is ragged, and you can hear the squeaks and little moans she lets out behind her mask

- "Someone is feeling a little better now," you tease her as you wipe your mouth

- She chuckles, wiping her eyes as she gets up from her seat with your hand in hers

- "Perhaps you can make me feel even better, my love," she drawls out, eyes half-lidded as she swings your arm

- You pray that Argus gives you the strength to hold back tonight

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Mileena - Imperial Duties

- Mileena stretched on her throne, moving her arms up and down and stretching her legs out

- Hell, she took her mask off to stretch both her human and Tarkatan jaw- she was that pooped from today

- Another day, another list of imperial chores, meetings, and items to get through. Honestly, how her mother did it was a question between her and the gods

- Mileena was relishing in her role as Empress, and doing well fitting in her mother's shoes, but it was still a job

- And whether you like it or not, even queens hate their jobs

- Just as she was about to blow off some steam with more training, a servant came in the throne room with an announcement you're coming through

- You bow as the servant moves out the way, and a soft exhale left her mouth at the sight of you

- "Hello, beloved," Mileena greets you. You smile as you walk closer

- "How are you faring with your duties?" you ask as you stop at the steps of the throne. Mileena growls, eyes sharpening a bit as she pats her lap for you to sit

- You're shocked, "A-are you sure? There are people..." Mileena just huffs as she sends everyone away

- Including the Umgadi

- "E-empress!" you're shocked as she takes you in her lap. She's tall enough already, her heels make her even taller

- Not only that, but from the constant kombat and sparring she did, her muscles were well-defined and formed

- "I despise the imperial politics," Mileena mumbles into your back. You giggle as you reach behind to pat her head

- "Imperial duties, my beloved," you sympathize

- Despite the mask she wore, you could feel the littlest breath come through. Seems that bits of her Tarkat were coming through, and she normally wore it when it got bad

- Funny, since everyone knows about her disease

- You turn in her lap and meet her eyes. Her eyes crease a bit as yours does, and you give her just a quick peck on the spot of her mask where her lips are

- "Feel better now?" you ask, stroking her face gently

- "Hm..." Mileena ponders a bit, before pulling you in close once more for another kiss

- You kiss at the same spot, and the mask becomes a little damp at how badly you want her actual lips to hit yours. Your moans become a little more apparent as her slender fingers stroke up and down on your side

- "E-empress!" you cry out as her fingers find your skin under your garments. Mileena chuckles lowly, taking you in her arms as she gets off the throne

- "Beg for more, dearest. You'll need the mercy of your empress in a few short moments."

- You gulp, "Delia, give me the strength..."

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Rain - Hidden

- You wait patiently in a rundown shack on the outskirts of Sun Do

- Constables aren't everywhere, since it isn't the capital, but they are around. It worries you, but they're gone as you hear floorboards creaking in the shack

- You gasp as your head snaps behind you. Your eyes search the darkness, and you can hear the warbling of water swirling in the corner. Theres also a little light illuminating there

- "Zefferro? you call the hydromage's name. The water stops, and a figure emerges from the darkness

- "My pearl..." his voice draws from behind the mask. It's soft, almost distant, but he's here in the flesh

- You throw your arms around him as you catch him in a hug. His arms wrap around your waist as you breathe his scent in. He smells like the sea, mostly due to his magic, and he smells like the outside

- "I've come bearing gifts," he whispers, forehead on yours as he shows you a bag next to his staff

- "I told you to stop stealing for me," you scold him, pushing him away as you grab the bag of food. "You must stay hidden!"

- Inside the bag, all your favorite snacks stare you in the face. Sweet candies, salty chips, even fried street foods. You couldn't stay mad at him, and you look over your shoulder with a downturned smile

- "You cannot remain angry forever, my pearl," he teases you as he closes in on you again

- You sigh once again. Rolling your eyes as you meet him in the middle. On your side, a table stands in the middle of the room, and you place the bag there as Rain wraps his hands around your waist

- "You are right, but you cannot remain out here forever," you tell him, sobering him up at his current situation

- After the fall of Seido, he had to serve time in imperial prison, but he left you behind. You had no one to protect you, a normal Sun Do resident with no powers, and you lived in constant fear that you'd be run out of your home if people learned of your connection to the former high mage

- He wanted you safe, even if it meant at the expense of himself

- "Pearl, nothing else matters but your happiness and protection," he whispers as he looks you deep in your eyes.

- There is so much love and strength in them, but pain that he'd need to leave again. To make the most of it, you kiss his mask, in the place where his lips would be. Rain is a bit shocked (slightly weirded out), but it is welcome regardless

- "Zefferro..." you say in a voice barely above a whisper. Rain's exhale is shaky, almost like he's going to cry

- He leans in again, and your lips attack his mask. His breath is ragged as his hands climb up from under your shirt, roaming your upper chest area. You moan at the feeling of his fingers, moving fluidly like the magic he controlled

- "Let me remove this," he says, but you stop him and sit on the table, pushing the mask back on his face

- "You must stay hidden, right love?" you smile shyly, and Zefferro's gaze darkens at your innocent flirtation

- The table creaks as Zefferro towers over you, and you smile as he begins to undress you where you two were supposed to eat

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Reptile/Syzoth - Spar Reward

- Syzoth is panting as his arms falter from the stress of holding them up against the blue-clad princes

- "I yield!" Syzoth yells, arms giving out as he falls onto his back

- Kitana chuckles, putting her fans away on her pants and removing her mask before coming to his aid

- "Good work, Syzoth," Kitana praises, "There is room for improvement, but you are on the right track"

- Syzoth gets up with Kitana's help, and he bows before grabbing some water

- As he takes many long drinks, his ears pick up on a new set of footprints. He can also smell a familiar, grassy and dewy, scent from behind him

- He turns his head and is met with your beautiful being, dressed in formal attire as you had come from a court meeting. You smile at him, quickly bow to Kitana, then make your way to Syzoth

- "How have you been, love? Is training going well?" you ask him as you wipe down his arms, a little gesture you do every time you see him

- He nods, "I find it difficult to train in human form. I do not understand how this form is so comfortable for you..."

- You roll your eyes, "You say that like I, too, can shift form."

- Kitana takes leave from the area, allowing you two a private couple moment. As you two talk, you massage Syzoth's shoulders

- "You train so hard, you deserve a break and reward," you giggle, kissing his masked cheek

- You don't see it, but his face is warm and slightly green. If he were mortal, he'd be queasy, but it was clear he was embarrassed and flushed with emotion

- "May I have a real kiss?" he asks shyly, and you chuckle as you move in front of him to kiss him

- The mask was tough, as it protected his mouth and lips. You kiss him where his lips would be, and Syzoth closes his eyes as you wrap your arms around his neck as he places his calloused human hands on your waist

- Syzoth's breathing is pitchy and uneven, almost like he was begging for it. His mask was slick with your saliva, and you pull away

- You giggle, "Is that reward enough, love?" Syzoth hums, thinking a little bit before the grip on your waist is tightened

- "I think I'll need more," he says with a low voice, in the process of removing his mask

- But you stop him

- "Can you... keep it on love?" you ask as you gently push the mask back on his face. You can feel something poking you from underneath, and you turn pink

- Syzoth took you over his shoulder, racing back to his bedroom to relish in his reward

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General Shao - On the Run

- You knock three times on a shabby wooden door, the said door opening with Reiko behind it

- "Is he here?" you ask, pulling down your hood as he ushers you inside

- Reiko nods, "We cannot be here for too long. It won't be long before someone realizes a huge man with horns and a silver mask resides here..."

- You click your tongue angrily, scowling at the fact your beloved warrior would be leaving again

- Broken out of jail by Bi Han, Reiko and General Shao were on the constant run

- Which means constant moving

- Which means practically no chance on meeting your beloved warrior

- The only possible ways would be when they were near your village

- And by near, probably two cantons over, another village to make sure you would not he caught in the crossfire of this manhunt

- That's what you're doing now, meeting your warrior in a village two places over- all for... an unknown amount of time

- "Dragonfly...." a rumbling of a voice comes from the darkness, and you see the shine of metal and deep red eyes

- "My warrior..." your voice cracked as your hands wrapped around his neck. His strong, scaly arms grips your waist and back

- His breathing is deep, trying to remember your smell before you'd have to leave again

- "Dragonfly... How I've missed you..." he said softly, gently swaying in his spot with you in hand

- You look up at him, his silver skull mask covering a good portion of his face. The only things you could see were his eyes and mouth

- "How long are you here for? Reiko did not mention the length in which you'll be here," you caress his metal face, and his hand is on top of yours as he grabs it gently

- "I do not know, my little dragonfly, but what I do know is that you're here, with me," he whispers, voice so low that not even a fly could hear it

- "Then," you say as your other hand is on his covered cheek. "Just hold me here, until you have to go..."

- "Gladly"

- Your mouths mesh together perfectly, like a beautiful symphony. The mask over his face is cool, and the little teeth that cover his mouth just barely your lips as both of your tongues fight for dominance

- His hand go lower, resting on your plush bum as he kneads it like dough. You moan, letting go of his lips quickly as you grind into his hardened member

- "Shall I take off my mask?" he asks, already doing it. You stop him just in time though

- You shake your head vehemently, "No. I want to see the warrior you are, including the mask"

- He nods, and he picks you up in his arms as he walks to the "bedroom" in the back

- He'll show you a warrior, that's certain

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Takeda Takahashi - Nightly Visits

- You stood on the balcony of your apartment in Shibuya (you are my special)

- The night was warm and breezy, and you looked over the scenery of the bright city awaiting a certain black and yellow ninja

- You look down at your watch, sighing, "Late again..."

- As you turn to head inside your flat, you're shocked by the said ninja. He's decked out in his tech armor, and his iconic black and yellow skull mask is on

- Despite his scary look, his eyes are soft and crinkled on the edges, indicating a smile

- "I don't think I'm tardy this time," he teases you, and you practically tackle him in a hug

- He laughs as he catches you, hoisting you up in the air as he swings you side to side. He smells like iron, sweat, and the Japanese wilderness- probably another mission

- "When did you sneak in here, you goof?" you noogie his head, bits of his hair misplaced despite the bandana that pushed it all back

- "A couple of minutes ago. Seriously, did you not hear me? I even cleaned up a plant I knocked over out here..."

- Your head turns to the direction his faces, and you can see the decently cleaned spot of one of your plants that had fallen off its pedestal. You whip your head back at him, glaring and removing your arms from around him

- He was mega strong. Carrying you while your arms were no longer around his neck is not for the faint of muscle

- "Aww... dearest, don't be angry..." he pleads, mask nuzzling into your neck. Despite the hard, shell-like exterior, it made you ticklish as the nose of the mask dug into the sensitive spot you had

- "How can I make it up to you?" he begs, eyes sparkling. How can a guy be so cute and deadly at the same time?

- "A kiss," you say, hands grabbing his face as you give him a peck at the teeth part of his skull mask. He chuckles as he pulls you in again for another

- "Of course, dearest," he says as your lips hit his mask again

- Your lips lick and suck at the place where his lips should be, and it clearly turns Takeda on as you can feel his growing member. You try to wiggle away from it, but his grip on you is strong as he forces you to grind on it

- When you pull away, you're red and hide your embarrassed face in his shoulder. He coos, patting your head as he teases you more.

- "So, am I forgiven now, dearest?" he asks, moving your hips for you as you whine

- "If you show me more moves inside, perhaps you are," you say, matching his energy with half-lidded eyes and a flirtatiously lazy smile

- He rushes inside your flat, slamming the balcony's sliding door shut as he climbs over you on the couch

- Let's just say that he earned more than forgiveness this nightly visit

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GUYS GUYS GUYS MK1 DLC ANNOUNCEMENT AKHISDIJG

okay see y'all in the next fic! love you all for getting me to 50 followers! (at the time of this fics publishing)

[scariusaquarius]

rehab. 15.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

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A/n: I'M SO SORRY THAT THIS TOOK SO LONG. Shit in my life hit a royal fan, so that took a lot of my immediate attention. So, we got into Tony's head, and now I think we should jump into the other groups now <3 Also, if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee! If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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rehab masterlist. chapter 14

Steve could still remember the way the HYDRA base had smelled the first time he had seen Bucky since he'd gone missing in action during World War II. The burning oil from the guns, the smoke and iron from explosions and blood staining the air like wine on white, and the smell of ozone just before it began to rain. It was all as though it was yesterday despite it being almost 80 years since then.

80 years since he last saw Peggy Carter.

Well, Steve guessed he could count the times he saw her after he woke up; her old and frail body reminding him of the time he had lost since he went under the ice...her casket heavy upon Steve's shoulder when he carried her to the hearse the day of her funeral.

But it didn't take away the feelings of regret and sorrow. Steve didn't regret putting the plane beneath the ice, but he did regret never getting that raincheck for their dance. Even so, Steve knew that Peggy would have wanted him to be happy; to keep fighting for what he believed in; to keep fighting for the little guys.

And so that's what Steve did. He kept fighting, kept saving, kept advocating, and yet it never felt like it was enough. Even when he saved Bucky, Steve still felt as though something was missing. There was never enough records, old antiques that weren't actually antiques to him, never enough clothes that felt right; it all just reminded him that he was living in a time that wasn't his own.

But unlike (Y/n) (L/n), he'd been allotted a lot of time to get used to the new world. Granted, Steve still couldn't stand the hustle and bustle and the noise of the New World, but Steve imagined that it was ten times harder for her. Hell, he still couldn't stand fireworks, and Bucky downright sobbed during the holidays because of them.

Steve sighed as he thumbed at the worn lensatic compass that still held that pretty picture of Peggy in it, and he couldn't help but to look at the picture, pursing his lips.

Yes, Steve understood what it meant to be out of place and because of that, it made him determined to help those that were like him and Bucky if and when he met them.

When he came across the female Winter Soldier with Bucky, Steve had felt shocked yet relieved for having found this woman, and though Bucky had been so reluctant to save her from staying frozen until the end of time, Steve couldn't help but feel determined to defrost her and save her, Peggy's words repeating in his head like a mantra.

"The world has changed, and none of us can go back. All we can do is our best, and sometimes, the best that we can do, is to start over."

Just like him and Bucky, this woman also deserved a chance to start over; to be free of what HYDRA had done to her, and though Steve didn't want to admit it, he couldn't help but to see Bucky again when he looked at this woman.

Though, even Steve knew that what they had done to her had been ten times worse given the horrific scars that had been covering her body. Steve hadn't watched any of the recorded clips that Shuri had obtained while working on the woman's programming, but given the way Shuri, Tony, and Bucky had been acting since being shown the clips, Steve didn't even want to watch them.

Even he knew that he might lose his cool for once.

It made it even worse when Steve discovered that Jack Rollins had been her Handler. Did Brock know, too? Did he also Handle this woman under the guise that it was 'nothing personal'?

"Still feels personal," Steve muttered to himself. Steve became aware of Sam leaning against the wall beside him, his arms crossed and looking ahead as they waited for Thor to arrive at their location to begin their investigation.

"You know, I think you really just like missing person cases. Have you thought of being a detective?"

Steve couldn't help but to chuckle as he glanced at Sam, stating with a small smile.

"I thought about it, but I don't think I'd be satisfied like I am now."

Sam barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he gestured to Steve's shield with a raised brow.

"Just can't seem to stay away, huh?"

"I know, it follows me everywhere, man."

The two men chuckled, and Sam stared at Steve for a moment, noticing the downtrodden look crawl back upon the old Captain's face, and he pointed out to Steve.

"You seem like you're back in the trenches."

Steve chuckled before shaking his head slightly, teasing gently.

"I never was actually in the trenches, so that might be a question for Bucky rather than me."

Sam shook his head a bit as well, making a face at Steve before stating.

"Well, I'm not about to go make a quick trip to ask. Seriously, man, what's on your mind?"

Steve pursed his lips tightly before he admitted to Sam, giving the man a worried look.

"I'm just...worried about the woman is all. With Bucky's rehabilitation, it hadn't been easy for him...and it still isn't, if I'm honest. I'm worried that he might have been right...if it would have been better for us to leave her frozen so she wouldn't be in danger like she is."

Sam glanced over at Steve, regarding him with a thoughtful look before he crossed his arms and replied thoughtfully.

"I think you're overthinking it, Steve. Even if you'd have left her there, she would have been in the same amount of danger as she is now."

Steve looked over at Sam, giving the man his undivided attention as Sam continued to speak his mind.

"Just like with Bucky, you strived to advocate for her; to give her a life and the ability to choose who she wants to be. If you ask me, that's a pretty big deal...especially considering who and what she is. You surrounded her with people that actually want to help her and not use her. I think that you and I both know that this is going to be a difficult road, but I also know it'll be worth it to see her blossom into herself and not what HYDRA wanted her to be. Just like with Bucky."

Sam clasped Steve's shoulder, giving him a firm look.

"You did the right thing, Steve...and if that doesn't make you think so...then I think at least Peggy would have been proud."

Steve couldn't help but to furrow his brows at the mention of Peggy, glancing down at the compass again, and he shook his head.

"No wonder you're a speaker at the VA. You're pretty good at this."

"You have to be. Sometimes you're the only thing a brother or a sister has left."

The two men couldn't help but to jolt as the Bifrost Bridge suddenly came crashing down beside them with a bang of thunder, Thor Odinson shaking his shoulders a little bit as a spark of lightning crawled over his chest as he appeared.

"I did not anticipate how difficult a phone could be. What's even the point of it when you could just tell me what I need to know in person. Even a raven would suffice. Less problems."

Sam couldn't help but to ask as he brushed off the invisible dust from his uniform as Steve gave Thor an understanding look.

"I don't reckon you get great service from Asgard, huh?"

"Terrible, actually, I couldn't even hear a word Tony Stark was saying...which isn't really tragic."

Steve nodded a bit before he asked Thor, the God of Thunder giving him a curious look.

"I don't suppose you were able to hear what was going on all the while?"

Thor then made a face as if trying to remember the interaction with Tony, saying.

"Well, I think I hung up when Tony said to meet you here, so not really."

Steve almost lost his composure, closing his eyes and shaking his head while Sam just snorted, crossing his arms.

"Right. We're going after a HYDRA operative by the name of Jack Rollins. We don't really know where he is, but the site that we're going to is a possible location. Even if he's not there, we're going to eradicate any possible activity. It's about time that HYDRA is stopped once and for all. Tony was able to capture an image of the base, so we should get moving."

The three of them began to journey to the HYDRA base, Thor asking as they walked and kept an eye out for danger.

"So, what is the significance of this human? Other than the fact that he is apart of this...horrible organization, it seems there is more to this than I am being informed of."

Steve gave Thor a look, almost like a brother chastising the other.

"Well, if you hadn't hung up on Tony, he would have been able to tell you."

Thor just waved off Steve, shrugging his shoulders a little bit as they began to approach the HYDRA base.

"His theatrics annoy me."

Steve wisely elected not to comment, instead giving Thor the rundown of the last couple of weeks.

"Bucky and I rescued a woman that was a part of the Winter Soldier program...probably created right after Bucky was. We've been trying to rehabilitate her and free her from HYDRA's mind control, but we've been having issues. Jack Rollins was her Handler, and he's been controlling her remotely...probably for a while."

Thor then hummed, saying with a raised brow as he swung Mjolnir around.

"It sounds as though this is personal."

"Potentially. What matters the most is that we eradicate HYDRA. If not for her or Bucky, then for the world. This is a dangerous group of people that are willing to do whatever it takes to gain complete control."

Thor sighed heavily, looking down at the hammer in his hands, scrunching his nose a little bit as he spoke while pointing Mjolnir at Steve.

"Well, even so, I understand the need to protect the honor of a maiden, so I shall accompany you to this HYDRA base and we shall cut off every head of the beast until the earth is pouring with its blood."

Sam and Steve stared at Thor for a moment before Sam asked him with a squint.

"Did you just come up with that on the spot or are you always this poetic?"

Thor shrugged, giving Sam a thoughtful expression as he replied.

"It comes and goes. My mother used to recite the Vǫluspá to Loki and I when we were younger."

 Sam just gave Steve a look, and the old Avenger just shrugged his shoulders before asking the two men.

"Are you guys ready? We're closing in."

Thor then asked as Steve and Sam began to carefully maneuver through the trees to stay out of sight while the God continued to walk as if there was no threat imminent.

"Do you think that I could meet this woman? I think it'll be fascinating. Are female Winter Soldier's different than males? Can she kick Barnes' ass like a Valkyrie?"

Steve pursed his lips, glancing back at Thor with a raised brow.

"Do you want to find out?"

"Well, I think a round or two would be healthy. You know, gauge her skills...see where she can improve."

Sam gave Steve a questioning look.

"Didn't she put a knife through the quinjet windshield? You know, the one made with synthesized AM-III carbon?"

"I don't know what that is."

Thor pointed out with a confused look on his face, and Steve just replied.

"It's strong as hell."

Thor just nodded before he gestured to the large building that they had approached.

"This is the supposed base?"

"Yes. We want to try to be as inconspicuous as possible just in case there is activity."

When Thor didn't respond, Steve and Sam both looked back with a confused look before the sound of thunder and lightning crashing down on the building made the two Avengers fill with dread.

"Is there anybody in the Avengers initiative that actually listens to you?"

Steve just sighed and replied.

"Let's just follow him."

The mission began then, the two men desperately chasing after the God as Thor flew through the building. What perturbed Steve, however, was the fact that there seemed to be no fighting. No yells, no gunshots, no explosions.

Silence.

The place was empty, barren of any furniture and equipment nor documents. It was as though it had been completely cleaned out. Thor came back with a frown, stating as he looked around with confusion.

"The rest of the area is completely barren. Nobody has been here for a while."

"Did you check the lower levels?"

Thor glanced back at the hole he had created on the floor, scratching the back of his head.

"I think so."

Sam shook his head, adjusting his goggles so that they were sitting on top of his head.

"That just doesn't make any sense. It's almost as if they know where we're looking and are cleaning everything out right under our noses."

Steve pursed his lips and looked at Thor.

"You're positive that there was nothing in the building?"

Thor frowned, crossing his arms.

"Why would I be dishonest to you?"

Sam pursed his lips again before he asked.

"What if they have someone on the inside already?"

Thor and Steve looked at Sam with similar expressions of dread. Sam shrugged and continued.

"We know that HYDRA is scary-good at infiltrations and establishing themselves in even the most secure places in the world. In a kingdom of thousands, a rat is bound to get through somehow, especially when the King is already preoccupied with trying to find a specific person. It's just like Nat said: it's easier to get things done when the attention isn't on you."

Thor pointed towards Steve, stating.

"We should get to Wakanda as soon as possible. If he is right, then that means the maiden and your friend are in danger of this foul beast. I can get us there almost immediately using the Bifrost Bridge so they are not devoured by the HYDRA."

Both Steve and Sam give Thor a questioning look.

"You...know it's not a real beast, right?"

Thor made a face at them both.

"Of course I knew that...I just thought it'd be poetic."

Thor looked away, but Sam could still see the embarrassed look on the god's face before he looked to Steve, who was shaking his head to get back on track.

"Listen, we can't just leave the quinjet behind. Stark will have my ass about it."

Steve protested, and Sam clasped his shoulder with a frown.

"You two go on ahead, I'll fly that bird home. Bucky and (Y/n) are in danger, Steve. The quicker you get there, the better off they'll be."

Steve nodded and Thor grabbed the captain's shoulder, nodding to Sam.

"Good luck."

With a strange sound of surging energy, the Bifrost suddenly crashed down upon Thor and Steve, leaving Sam where he was standing as he watched the bridge disappear, and Sam couldn't help but mutter to himself.

"One of these days....just you wait."

-

STORY NOTES: Steve recalls the HYDRA base that he had found Bucky in after Bucky went missing back in WWII. He recalls the smell of smoke, burnt gun oil, and other scents during that time, and Steve makes a note that he could still remember that day clearly. He begins to think about Peggy Carter and his regrets and sorrows of not getting to spend his life with her like he wanted to, and so to honor her, he continues to fight for those around him.

He begins to sympathize with (Y/n) (L/n) and how it must be jarring for her to be thrust into an era she is not from, and the struggles that came with adjusting to a new world. He recalls that when he had found her, Bucky had been reluctant to save her, but Steve was determined because of the memory of a quote that Peggy had said to him before she passed away.

After some more personal reflections, Steve is greeted by Sam Wilson, who jokes with Steve to lighten the mood. When he is unsuccessful, Sam asks Steve what is on his mind. Steve opens up to Sam about his worries and how he is wondering if Steve had done the right thing in defrosting the woman, and Sam is adamant that Steve had done the right thing. He tells Steve that he thinks Peggy would have been proud, and Steve begins to feel better.

The moment is interrupted with the arrival of Thor Odinson, who makes a complaint about the difficulty of cellular devices and how it would have been much easier for someone to send a raven to him. Sam makes a joke about the reception in Asgard, to which Thor quips that he couldn't hear what Tony was saying and it 'wasn't really tragic'. Steve asks Thor if he was able to hear the mission details, and Thor reveals that he actually hung up on Tony, not that he had bad reception.

Steve begins to go into details about their mission and what the plan is, and Thor makes a comment that the mission seemed personal. Steve is vague with his response, but neither Thor nor Sam comment about it. When Thor mentions cutting off 'every head of the beast', Sam makes a joke, in which Thor replies that his mother used to read the Vǫluspá to him and Loki when they were younger.

As they approach the base, Thor makes a inquiry about female Winter Soldier's and if they were as strong and skilled as Valkyries, in which Sam and Steve both imply that (Y/n) is most likely on par with one since she was able to embed a knife into the strongest glass in the world. After a while, the three arrive to the base, and though Steve tries to plan out a strategic entrance, Thor immediately begins to assault the base.

Steve makes a note that the place seems deadly silent and completely barren, no furniture or desks in sight. Thor comes back with a similar report, telling Steve that the base is completely abandoned, and Sam makes a comment that it seems as though HYDRA already seems to know where the Avengers will be looking. He inquires about a possible infiltration in Wakanda, and Thor tells Steve that they should get to Wakanda as soon as possible. Thor and Steve leaving using the Bifrost Bridge while Sam stays behind to take the quinjet home. End scene.

TRANSLATIONS:

Vǫluspá: "The Prophecy of the Völva [Seeress]". It is one of the most famous and important poems in the Poetic Edda, which is a collection of Old Norse mythos and poems. The Vǫluspá goes into detail about Norse Mythology, including the creation of the world, its current state, and its ultimate destruction during Ragnarök—the apocalyptic battle of the gods—and subsequent rebirth.

Valkyrie: [Valkyrja] "Chooser of the Slain": A warrior faction of Norse Mythology often depicted as powerful Asgardian women who serve Odin. Their main role is to choose which Asgardian warrior will live or die in battle. They also guide the fallen warrior to Valhalla, Odin's great hall in Asgard where the warriors [known as Einherjar] prepare for Ragnarök

TAGLIST: @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @mgchaser @aash3 @samfunko @seventeen-x @valckenaux @babybeeelle @sc4rrc @cjand10 @bane-y-zane

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 15: Powerless

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: It's time to make the fight on your terms.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 6.4k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence, violence with superpowers, murder, this is the most violent one, swearing, injuries, discussion of homelessness, discussion of crime

a/n: If you didn't read the warnings!! Or even if you did! This is your warning for on-screen murder. It's not very gory, but it is very much there. (spoiler, but) we kill our villains in this one lads, it was kind of the whole point of this thing :))) also most of the word count on this one is the fight so help me lmao, why do I do this to myself�� With that out of the way, I am super excited for this chapter!! Protective Jungkook now applies to yn maybe more than anyone and hello yes I am here for it (ofc bc I wrote it ksdfghfl) Enjoy!! And do let me know if you like it!💜💜

Jungkook’s hand was still clutched in yours as you crept together through alleyways. Far, now, from your usual haunt, you recognised none of these streets, but Jungkook never hesitated in his steps.

Sure enough, he led you round a cluster of dustbins on one corner and stopped at last in front of a heavy door. Graffiti was scrawled over the entrance and across the entire wall. If you were to arrive here in the dark, you may not have noticed the seam marking out a doorway at all.

“I thought he might choose this place,” Jungkook muttered to you, “this is where Namjoon first picked me up, after I got my powers. He operated from here until his partnerships brought in enough money for the place in town.”

He turned to knock on the door. All you could do was squeeze his hand, eyeing the surroundings. Things must have changed from before. This was where your team had begun, long before you came into the picture.

The door swung open. Jin’s face emerged, morphing instantly from hostility to relief when he saw you.

Then his eyes moved down, and lingered on your clasped hands.

If you weren’t mistaken, a faint smirk lifted his mouth, but he closed his lips matter-of-factly and forced it away. Only a telltale raise of his eyebrows made you chew your lip as he let you both past him and inside.

A murky corridor led to another sturdy door, and then you were in a larger room. It was bare of furniture, the most notable features the peeling paint and a threadbare carpet lining the space. The walls either side of you sported large windows, but the curtains remained drawn; Yoongi could be the only explanation for the room being fully lit regardless. There were no bulbs in the fixtures.

Something in your chest loosened at the sight of your whole team gathered inside. Everyone had got here before you. Namjoon was pacing in the centre. Hobi slumped against the far wall, Jimin beside him, clothes bloody but a beaming smile on his face.

At the clunk of the door, Namjoon whirled around, finally stopping his impatient strides.

All eyes fell on you. A similar reaction to Jin’s outside swept the room. Reluctantly, you and Jungkook let your fingers slide apart, although you shifted a little closer to him.

Namjoon’s stare, intense and unreadable as always, left you in such suspense that you had to look away. Unfortunately, it brought you eye-to-eye with Jimin, who was being the least subtle of them all. His cheeks were plump with the force of his smile, and he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

You bit back your own grin.

Namjoon, for his part, shook his head and resolved to ignore it. Or deal with it later, at least.

“What did you guys do?”

Or maybe not. Clamping your mouth shut, your eyes widened a fraction. What were you supposed to tell him?

“We, uh-” Jungkook stammered out, before Namjoon pinched his brow.

“I mean with the monster that attacked us,” he cut you off.

You sighed in relief.

“Oh, that…” Jungkook laughed, sheepish.

In three brusque strides, Namjoon marched closer, towards an old television in the corner behind you. A red glow surrounded it as he rapped on the top, and then images flickered to life on the screen.

Blue lights and smoke washed over vehicles rammed haphazardly into a street. Your street.

You didn’t bother reading the fast-scrolling banner below the picture, letting the voiceover fill you in.

“Reports were made of Bolt heading to stop a creature, which he claimed to have escaped from within an operating villain base…” the reporter read, “but on arrival, the beast appears to have been tamed. No damage was sustained to surrounding properties, and a team is working to sedate and control it…”

The screen flashed to a blurry close-up of Frank as you had left him, snoring among the wreckage.

“How the hell did you stop it?” Namjoon demanded, the device blinking back to silence as he turned back to you and Jungkook.

“Well, Y/N, um…” Jungkook gestured for you to take over.

“It’s one of Kuyang’s,” you explained, “there’s this patch behind his ear, it sends him right to sleep. It’s just… a bit difficult to get to.”

“That thing has ears?” Jin echoed.

Namjoon folded his arms and took in the both of you.

“Good work, then. That was lucky. At least it’s lessened some of what Bolt’s trying to pin on us. But this was more than a simple attack.”

He paced again to the centre of the room.

“Bolt doesn’t act on accident; he’s showed us that much. He tried to take us out directly today. He wants to eradicate us. That’s his message, and it’s final. He’ll keep coming for us until one side is destroyed.”

His words bristled around the room, but not with fear. You sensed the rage and determination you shared with your brothers.

You weren’t backing down.

If Bolt was going to make it us vs them, you would just have to win that fight.

Turning, Namjoon met eyes with Jin, who stepped forward to stand beside him.

“At least we know what Bolt has at his disposal,” Jin said, “and what he doesn’t. We know the weapons we’re up against, so I think we can take on any fighters he sends our way. What really counts is the man himself.”

“We’re going to him, right?” Yoongi spoke from his place leaning against the curtain. “I don’t want to wait for him to come after us again. He wants the fight; we make it on our terms.”

Regarding him seriously, Namjoon nodded.

Meanwhile, Jin’s words were stirring something else in your mind. Something you had forgotten in the blur of defeat and panic that had ensued since your fight with Monsoon.

We know what weapons we’re up against…

“Wait,” you breathed. It was enough to snag the group’s attention, tense gazes all finding you. Closest was Jungkook, frowning down at you.

You gulped, and met their eyes.

“When I went after Monsoon,” you began, “I found the shield ray, even if I didn’t get hold of it. But that wasn’t all… He had a collection. And I recognised another one, too. I thought I had burned it up, in the parking lot, but there was another one.”

You had to admit that some nerves crept in at the unsettled silence that followed. Namjoon stared.

“No…” he shook his head, “you’re saying they have the Razer?”

“The one that takes your powers…” you replied, “yes.”

Namjoon swore.

“You definitely destroyed it?”

“Without a doubt,” Jungkook cut in, “I felt the shockwaves in that fight.”

You nodded along with him. Namjoon wasn’t asking to doubt you, though, and took you at your word. You had seen the broken, lifeless shell of that awful gun. No, they had gained another somehow.

“They must have got hold of a blueprint, or a prototype, somehow,” Jin suggested.

“However they did it, it’s best we know what we’re going up against,” Namjoon resolved. He looked around, meeting everyone’s eyes. “You all know what it looks like?”

Nods met him.

“Then watch your backs. We’re still doing this.”

“What was it like?”

By now, you were acquainted with the view from this spot, sitting against the wall in a corner of this place. But how different had it been, when the boys still lived here?

“Hm?”

Jungkook turned to you, resting his head back against the wall. The two of you sat not far from the others, all of you sitting around waiting for Hobi to heal up and for Jin to get whatever results he was hoping for from a beat-up laptop he had pulled from somewhere. You had no idea if he had brought it with him, found it in here, or stolen it. You wouldn’t ask, either.

Though the room was wide open now, you still sat shoulder-to-shoulder with Jungkook like you had in that cramped hallway. It was difficult to keep the same feeling at bay too. His presence lit you up where you touched, but in front of the others you had to keep up some semblance of sanity, and keep from pouncing on him.

“When you first came here,” you forced your eyes away from his softly quirked lips, and to the room. “What was it like?”

To your dismay, his brows pinched into a frown. He eyed the walls, traced them up to the ceiling with its patches of damp.

He shifted his arm against yours in a shrug.

“It was a roof over my head,” he murmured, “at first.”

“Oh,” you stammered, quiet in your shock, “sorry…”

With a blink and a shake of his head, you watched him pull himself back to you. He shot you a disarmingly genuine smile, albeit small.

“Not your fault,” he assured you, “I never told you.”

Instantly, you knew what he was talking about. Just like you, Jungkook must have first moved in after he got his powers. Of course, the balm of the support from (most of) the others had eventually smoothed over the wounds that heralded your arrival.

They wouldn’t be forgotten though.

Nor would you forget your brothers’ wounds. Jungkook had yet to entrust you with his story, the knowledge of those probably painful moments. He had hardly let you near it, all this time.

“You don’t have to-” you said hastily, but he surprised you.

You spotted his jaw tighten, but his voice was level.

“After my dad… I had nothing. The first time I met Namjoon, I didn’t have powers. I did a job for him. I used to steal; it was about the only thing I could do. My dad taught me to fight, once, after he was home late and some older kids tried to break into our place. I fell in with a certain crowd, but half of them were backstabbing sneaks.”

You weren’t sure he even knew he was scowling as he said that. Despite your horror, you couldn’t break your gaze away from Jungkook as he told the story, spelling out what you had always wondered.

He looked over to Namjoon then, snarl easing.

“I guess he thought I was good. He gave me more jobs, paid good money. It wasn’t one of his where it happened. We were taking some kind of reactor – I can hardly remember the plan. Someone wanted power out to rob a string of banks, I think… All that matters is it went wrong. It wasn’t safe, and it… blew up.”

Your chest tightened along with his voice, hearing him straining to keep his throat from closing.

He slumped back against the wall then. Fixed his eyes on yours.

“I got the brunt of it. Two of the others died. One of them ran away when I woke up and asked him to help me. And there was this… this burning I didn’t understand…”

“I remember,” you whispered.

Slowly, he closed his lips. His eyes bled with recognition. You felt it too, conflict constricting your chest. Appreciation that you could share the feeling, understand one another without the need for explanation, mingled with the strain in your heart of knowing he had been subjected to the same torture.

Here you both were, on the other side of it.

Jungkook took a bracing breath, shifted up where he had sagged down the wall – towards you.

“Namjoon found me.”

His voice brightened almost immediately, and he was looking around the room with new eyes of the old memories.

“V came along not too long after I did… It was the boys that made it home. They still do.”

A soft smile took your lips without thought, and you followed his gaze fondly.

The moment your eyes fell on Jin, you saw him perk up, straightening his back. Then he let out a cheerful “Aha!”.

He was the centre of attention that instant, and went on without prompting, fingers still clacking away at the laptop.

“I managed to get into our own system – and Bolt’s taken something!”

“And that’s… good?” you questioned his jubilant tone.

Keeping his eyes trained on the screen, he quirked his head.

“It means I can see where he’s taking it.”

Namjoon came to hover over Jin’s shoulder until they were satisfied. Soon enough, you found yourself refreshing the mental list of what you were about to go up against.

“If he even manages to get it up and running before we get there, it only has three charges per round. This is the first time I’m glad I haven’t improved it yet,” Jin chuckled, telling you about the newest addition to Bolt’s arsenal, the one he took right from your lab. “Jungkook or YN’s powers will take it out easily.”

And so he went on, through power-extending shurikens to the shield rifle Monsoon had stolen, all the things that had slipped through your fingers and how to defeat them.

“And the Razer…” Jin landed on the last one, but tailed off and exchanged a look with Namjoon.

“Just don’t get hit,” the leader said.

Several eyebrows raised in trepidation. You shuddered with an echoing memory of the gun’s piercing cold.

“Hobi,” Namjoon turned away from the subject, “how are you healing up?”

Shifting to sit away from the wall, Hope pulled down the collar of his shirt to reveal the skin where Frank had slashed him. It was still pink, but completely closed by now.

“Better,” he beamed.

“Okay,” Namjoon fixed him with a stern eye, “but check in. If it’s putting you at a disadvantage, I want you out of there.”

“Yes boss,” Hobi replied with a grin and a mock salute.

From that alone, you were sure he was feeling better.

“I say” – Jin shut the laptop with a clack – “we’ve waited long enough.”

You couldn’t help but agree. It felt good to get on your feet again. Inside your chest, the warmth of your powers bubbled alongside your bristling determination. Just enough for you to feel them, to assure you.

A private smile stole across your face, and you turned towards Jungkook.

He found you first. A gentle touch on your wrist made you glance down. His thumb ran firmly, softly, over the skin there, and when you looked up his eyes were dark and affirming.

You realised then, that his defensive ring of fire had never burnt away. You were only on the other side of it, one of the ones he accepted in. His look was one of complete trust. When he nodded, you nodded back.

Let’s do this.

Having been inside for some time, the lot of you know marched out to find it night, the city drenched in the darkness of who-knew-what hour. Your ‘march’ was actually more of a light-footed sneaking. Setting off any alarm bells just yet would blow the operation. Together, your group wove through shadows out of this part of town, unnoticed thanks to the camouflage Yoongi effortlessly provided.

Up ahead, Jin checked around corners and led you on, the buildings rising further above you at every turn. Neon screens flashed through the night in these neighbourhoods, where the inhabitants had money to spare.

The walk couldn’t have been long, but you were a world away from the run-down hideout by the time Jin stopped, facing one of many high buildings of polished glass and chrome.

“So this is it?” Jimin asked, head tilting back.

Your eyes, instead of trailing up the building like Jimin’s, found a looming structure beside it. A pylon planted firm in the ground, standing just taller than the building itself, up to a spidery convergence of wires webbed over the city rooves.

“Well, that sure is handy for someone like him,” Jin scoffed.

Hobi rolled his neck, already striding towards it.

“And now it’s handy for us.”

His leap up three rungs was unnecessary, really. The rest of you followed behind like the mere mortals you were, clambering as silently as you could between the intersecting beams, the metal cold beneath your hands.

You looked back once, finding Namjoon and Jin still on the ground.

“I’ll see you afterwards,” Namjoon was telling him grimly, “all of us have to fight.”

“I know,” Jin agreed. Then he punched him in the arm. “And I had better, alright? See you afterwards, I mean.”

Your leader nodded, then stepped forward to the pylon. You looked ahead and pushed on upwards.

It shouldn’t have surprised you to find Bolt in a penthouse. Following the others, you hopped from the pylon onto the skyscraper’s rooftop; only Namjoon stayed behind. It wasn’t so tall as Kuyang’s lab had been, but it felt miles above. In the darkness, a few glimmering lights dotted the edges of what appeared to be an eerie garden of sorts, although no plants were in sight. Dark tile slabs ran underfoot, broken up by sculptures you couldn’t discern beyond shadows.

The rooftop was halved, your group gathering on the lower segment while a set of stairs rose another floor to more of the same; Bolt’s viewpoint over the city.  Though your eyes darted between the statues, each one playing tricks on you as if they were people watching, your gaze rested eventually on two large glass doors beside the stairway.

A distant light from further inside showed just enough for you to see beyond the glass. An entire wall was decked in little plates, things you vaguely recognised as city awards, only seen on the screens and papers.

A trophy for each life Bolt had taken would have filled the whole building, let alone a feature wall, you thought.

The small huddle of you poised still, hunters, waiting. In the last few seconds before that silence would be broken, you felt Jungkook step behind you.

“This ends now.”

The voice coming over your shoulder was made of everything he was. Electricity, cold and bitter like metal, aflame with determination. The rows, fists and shouting, the tentative midnight whispers, his kisses.

His hurt and all the things he covered it with.

Namjoon didn’t even have to ask his soldiers if they were ready. He raised his arms and slammed palms back down against metal, and a red glow silhouetted you all like a sinister halo.

Everything went dark.

The meagre light inside the property blinked off. The glare of signs across the road plunged away to nothing. Only the dotted perimeter lights, which must run on for emergencies, remained.

Footsteps behind you brought Namjoon through the pack to its head.

Ahead, something moved beyond the glass. Your gaze sharpened on it as the handle turned, the door swinging soundlessly outwards.

While not in full gear, as he had been when he first attacked you, Bolt’s blue mask was in place. Otherwise, he wore dark, comfortable clothes. Internally, you celebrated the small evidence that you really had caught him unawares.

“I should have known,” his voice carried over to you, inflated with arrogance. “Flush out the rats and they’ll have nowhere left to run.”

In your ear, a sharp inhale sent your eyes to Jungkook for a second. His fists tightened at his sides.

“You’ve taken enough, Bolt,” Namjoon spoke. If you didn’t know him, you may not have caught the dark rage burning below his even words.

Then he raised his arms, stretched them towards the man in blue.

A great gust whisked from behind you, snatching at your hair, but you stood firm. In front of you, Bolt was thrown backwards by the air, colliding with the glass behind him.

The starting gun had been fired.

As your enemy crashed through a shower of glass, you began to run. Shards of it scattered, glittering, under your pounding feet. You skidded to the doorway just as Bolt drew back to his feet in the shadows.

Raising your arms to continue the offensive, you were cut short. A startling flash blazed in your vision. In that split-second, it illuminated a smiling Bolt, gun ready at his hip. Just long enough for your heart to sink.

The shield rifle, the very one you had failed to protect.

It seemed only right that you should pay the price.

Its impact slammed against you, wrenching your outstretched arm backwards. The pale sphere it had fired, glowing and crackling, caught hold and took you with it, ensnaring your wrist like a constricting snake. Helpless to detach yourself, your body flailed through the air behind it.

Someone called your name.

Just as fast, you jerked to a stop. Below you, your feet flung out above nothing. Your heart jumped.

Looking around wildly, you found the forcefield had snagged on the wall, stuck fast to it just like it did your arm. It was the only thing holding you here.

Somewhere behind you, above you, grunts and thuds assured you that the fight continued. For now, you had to get out of this trap before Bolt could reach you again, attack you in this helpless position.

“Y/N!”

Jimin’s voice rushed closer. It was an effort to crane your head up to see him. Pale pink hair poked over the ledge.

“Grab on!” he called.

You didn’t hesitate. Swinging yourself up with a kick, you grabbed desperately for the hand he reached out. Finding it clumsily, you clutched to his wrist with clammy fingers. Next moment, he hauled you up, clamping both hands around yours until you rolled over the wall and your feet stumbled against solid ground.

But you still weren’t free.

The forcefield bit at your arm when you tried to drag it free. You cursed.

“It’s just energy,” Jimin spoke, frowning at the luminescent mass.

Then he took a breath, frowning in concentration. With one push of his hand, the sphere shifted, as if it was simply a ball from training.

Resisting, you pulled the other way. For a second, it constricted harder, making your heart clench in dread of following it. Then all at once you were falling free, tumbling to the floor as the forcefield rolled out of sight over the edge.

Hurried hands tugged you up and you were wheeling around to face the battle.

“Thanks,” you quickly clapped Jimin on the shoulder. A brief grin from him, and you dived together back towards the fray.

More shining energy fields pulsed against one wall, but it seemed the others had dodged them. You ran past the discarded weapon on the floor. But there were more where it had come from.

A bright blue jet, just like your own, fizzled against a statue and sent it thundering to the floor. Behind it, Yoongi leapt out of the way just in time. He came sprinting towards Bolt, eyes burning white.

In an instant, the hero let out a yell, clutching his eyes. Staggering, he slipped onto one knee. But in his blind panic, he whirled around, lashing out again even without a target to aim at.

Blazing blue roared outwards. Namjoon had been marching towards the fallen Bolt, but was forced to duck for cover. The lightning sliced clean through the top of the stone figure he hid behind.

Even as Bolt’s attack died, something else caught your eye. Fast as a spark from a flame, he tossed a blade into the air. It whistled, carving a streak of seething blue through the night.

A shout shot echoed across the rooftop, straight to your veins. Yoongi.

Falling from his invisible cloak of darkness, you saw a glowing blue shuriken whizz along his back. The current flew outwards across his body, throwing his pained grimace into haunting relief. The blade skittered, useless, to the ground, having wreaked its injury.

“Yoongi!” you screamed as he fell, blue light dancing over his spasming body.

Staring in horror as you were, the next flash of blue nearly caught you. Running on pure instinct, your body retaliated before you did. Snarling, your powers leapt from your palms, clashing against Bolt’s in mid-air. Blue on blue.

In the flare of sparks, Bolt smiled slowly. Never breaking the connection, he took a step forwards, cocking his head.

“So it’s true,” he spoke, “I heard about you.”

Heart hammering now, you pushed back with all your might, feeling his hostile powers wrestle with yours. They may look the same, but they felt all wrong.

“Tell me,” he took a step closer. You barely resisted the urge to draw back. “How did you do this?”

Steeling yourself with a breath, you unleashed a surge of rage, your electricity hissing through the air. It should have satisfied you to feel his power startle, stutter at the sudden attack.

All you could do was glare. He had no idea. He never thought twice about who he killed, what he took.

But as you stared, there was movement behind him. It was all you could do to keep your eyes on Bolt, willing his attention to stay on you. As it was, he had no idea that Jungkook was stalking towards him.

“I didn’t do this,” you blurted out, needing to keep him focussed. Buying Jungkook time as his face came into sharper focus, closer to the battling blue lights between you and Bolt. “You did this to me.”

You spat your words with all the venom locked inside, ready for one last push as you watched Jungkook raise both arms-

WHOOSH.

You snapped the connection, staggering backwards as Bolt whirled around.

It had not been gold that fired. In a blur, Jungkook was slammed to the ground by a column of water crashing into him.

Everyone on the rooftop turned to its source.

“Shit-” you heard someone curse.

“No,” you breathed.

Feet touching to the rooftop up ahead, among a flood of water, was Monsoon.

Another cold, arrogant grin met you all. You stared in horror. Only Bolt laughed, stepping forwards to climb to his ally’s side. They faced you all from the staircase, looking down.

Pushing himself to his feet, Jungkook’s eyes blazed gold beneath dripping strands of hair.

“Jungkook! No!” you cried, but too late.

Gold split the night, but against Monsoon there was no use. Water surged instantly towards him again, and though your powers protested, burning in your chest with the need to act, you could only stand by. You couldn’t fight him.

Shimmering water engulfed the gold strands. Soon they would immobilise Jungkook, the moment it made contact…

Instead, a red glow sprung up in front of Jungkook with only a split-second to spare, sending the deluge spraying around the shield.

“Let’s start with you, then,” Monsoon smirked.

When you looked back to him, you swore your heart stopped beating.

Raised in one hand, pointing straight at Jungkook, was the Razer. Its eerie white form stood out starkly against the night sky.

The dead white light at its centre jumped to life. A whirring began, menacing and low. It rose at the same rate the strands of light started spinning within the sphere, preparing to drain its victim of all power.

It was stupid. It was stupid, you had already failed once before. You had watched Jungkook fail just seconds ago. There was nothing you could do, yet you had to do something.

You fired at Monsoon.

Easily, he raised his free hand to deflect.

But as the water rushed towards you, Jimin sprinted towards Monsoon. Thrusting an arm forward, he sent a fallen statue flying between you, a silhouette. Your eyes widened in realisation.

The inundation hit the stone with such force, you almost thought it would crack. But no – it sent the writhing water shooting straight back at its commander.

Darting forward, you shot without hesitation. Blue burst from you. The bright tendrils wove into the stream, flying like darts through the current and towards Monsoon. There was no time for him to react; only a fleeting shadow of shock stole over his face before the electricity caught him and his eyes rolled back.

You knew how it felt for your muscles to lock in place, for your body to leave your control entirely. You watched as it took hold of him, too, and smiled.

The force of the water, with no way to resist it, knocked him backwards until the floor no longer held him. A blond blur flew past you, just before the white-clad figure that was Monsoon dropped out of sight forever.

Lowering your palms, your chest heaved. Adrenaline rushed through you; this still wasn’t over.

Your eyes narrowed in on Hobi, whose feet made impact with the roof on landing. Clutched in his arms was the Razer, scooped from Monsoon’s arms just in time.

Bolt, apparently, had got over his ally’s demise already. His grief lasted the space of one step, away from the edge, before he swung round. Like you, he honed straight in on the weapon.

And then everyone moved at once.

Diving out of the path of a sinister blue bolt, Hobi rolled away on the floor. Bolt himself thudded closer, making your friend dodge again, leaping up and out of his reach. The air crackled by Bolt’s hand, but before he could summon electricity to chase Hobi down, a sheet of purple fire swept like a curtain in front of him, the fleeting shadow of V disappearing within the flames.

You were already sprinting at the enemy when Hobi touched down next to you. Stumbling around, he glanced behind him with a curse.

Confused, your eyes first darted over your friend. He didn’t seem to be more hurt, so then what-?

A clatter of metal rung through the spitting flames. Frantically searching, you quickly found the deathly white streak of the Razer on the ground, spinning away. In the desperate fumble to escape Bolt, Hobi must have dropped it.

It didn't matter how it got there. Darting to the side, you changed course towards the weapon. But you weren’t the only pursuer.

Bolt was a silhouette in front of the fire, growing rapidly in the corner of your vision. Your feet thudded as fast as you could make them, heart pounding out the same rhythm, and you were almost there, but Bolt was coming in fast-

A flash of blue. Instinctively, you pulled back, letting it cut through the air in front of your nose. Precious distance you couldn’t afford to waste.

Throwing your weight back further, you followed your body’s momentum. Your hip met the tile and you let your speed carry you, sliding over the tiles and kicking out-

Your toes met the weapon hard, snatching it from right under Bolt’s fingertips as he lunged down. His furious glare shifted to you, but he did not stay to fight. Both of you watched, panting, as the white gun hurtled over the staircase, resounding against each step out of sight.

Then Bolt was off again with you not far behind, jumping to your feet. Stairs flew beneath you as you surveyed the scene.

Bolt charged a decisive line towards the still-falling gun. Namjoon, Jimin and Jungkook assembled on the lower part of the rooftop, ready to strike.

With relief, you saw Jimin move first. Raising one hand, he brought the gun arcing through the night. Though you kept running, something loosened in your chest the closer it came to the hands of your leader.

So focussed on the gun as you were, you almost missed it. Just as the Razer landed firmly in Namjoon’s grip, something glinted in Bolt’s hand, inches ahead of you.

A sizzle of blue. Another shuriken sliced through the air. Namjoon dodged to one side, the blade sailing past him, a spark of blue losing itself in the darkness of the city.

But another blade followed.

Namjoon clearly decided not to hang around. The low whirring began again, piercing your senses straight away as if it was a chainsaw roaring. White light pounced against the glass containing it. Close as you were to Bolt, you couldn’t help the jolt of nerves fizzling in your chest.

Lifting his gaze from the weapon, Namjoon’s eyes widened a fraction. There wasn’t enough time to react. The blue lightning raced straight for his heart.

The image of Yoongi, stricken and fallen, flashed through your mind then. Helplessness burned through every part of you – even as you pushed yourself to sprint, there was no catching it.

Until a shadow leapt in the way. Obscuring your view of Namjoon, they turned in mid-air to face the shuriken.

Jungkook.

Your heart punched into your throat. In a single beat, the blade found its target.

A twitch of pain spasmed across Jungkook’s face. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move. Your trembling heart choked you, the world falling silent for a deathly second.

Then his feet thumped onto the roof, the clatter of the thin blade following a beat later. Though he stumbled against the outer wall, he remained standing. Utter, blank shock painted on his face, he brought a hand up to his chest.

There, a thin red line was spreading where he had been cut. Nothing more.

Heart still hanging on a precipice, you were suspended in your shock. Numbly, you glanced down to the still-spinning shuriken lying powerless on the floor. Powerless. No more sparks surrounded it. No hint of blue, no colour at all.

Where a heartbeat ago there had been panic, now came no movement at all. Your lungs ached for air after your short race, but you hardly dared to touch the silence by breathing. Shakily, you drew in cool air, turning, as you all did, towards Bolt.

Standing in front of the shattered entrance to his home, he was equally still.

You expected some kind of joke. For him to laugh in your faces, or lash out again.

Instead, he looked down in horror. His hands steadily rose, tuning over in front of him. A downwards turn tugged at his mouth when he raised his face.

Then it turned into a snarl, and he lunged, flinging a hand straight towards you. Everyone on the rooftop jumped.

To your shame, you almost stepped back. Phantom burning, from months ago as you fell from a skyscraper like this one, rocketed through your mind. But the pain you braced for never came. No flash of blue. You stayed rooted there, disbelieving eyes tracing the air which should have been ablaze, and instead was dead and dark.

And you noticed another thing: the whirring had stopped.

Glancing to one side, you saw Namjoon lowering the Razer, face hard and a grim glint in his eye.

“You!”

Bolt’s voice brought you sharply back to him. His mouth twisted into a snarl, and his voice was sharp.

To your alarm, his rage-filled eyes, though devoid of blue, were fixed right on you.

“Give them back to me! Right now!”

With a sudden start, he marched towards you. You actually stepped back this time, in no hurry to be the target of his new warpath.

“You- I gave you those powers!” He ranted, “My powers! You can give them back to me the same way. Do it now!”

Disgusted, you could only shake your head.

Another step and he was right in front of you, reaching for you. That same face which hadn’t looked at you twice when he sent you hurtling to your intended death. The man that had since become the face of your elusive fear, sending others to attack you, never getting his hands dirty unless for a media-worthy cause.

His hand on your arm made your skin crawl.

“I made you what you were,” he pleaded – you saw it now for what it was – “you were nothing before I gave them to you-”

“Get off me!” you snapped, yanking your arm roughly from his grip. When he made to reach for you again, you barely kept control of your powers. You were sure to let just enough slip through that your eyes would light up blue with a reminder.

It clearly found its mark. He stilled, stunned. He had never been in this position before, unable to fight, and he would do well to remember it.

“I was someone before you,” you spoke, low and level.

Bolt seemed robbed of words.

Then his glare flicked to the side. Jungkook stalked up to stand beside you, drawing himself up to his full height. There was a special venom in his eyes, reserved only for the man who had ruined his life.

“Don’t touch her,” he spat.

Something in Bolt snapped. Closing his mouth, his feet scrambled beneath him. He hurried in the opposite direction, staggering a few desperate steps backwards before wheeling around, racing to get inside.

You didn’t move. Any one of you could easily kill him from where you stood – in any case, it wasn’t needed.

Someone was waiting for him.

Stepping from the dark hallway, broken glass crunching underfoot, Jin emerged into the dim light of the rooftop.

He reared back a fist, and brought it down in a blur to collide with Bolt’s face. The moment the fallen hero hit the ground, Jungkook strode forwards. Bolt’s usually vivid mask was finally dislodged, lying dull against the tiles where Jungkook’s boot crushed it against the floor.

Calmly lifting a hand, he fired gold, but not right at Bolt. Instead, you watched the molten light latch around a large shard of glass. The burning ring made dappled gold ripple in the glass, a golden dagger, the brightest thing on this dark rooftop.

Unsteadily, Bolt was getting his hands beneath him again. His ragged panting almost stirred pity in your chest. Almost.

Jungkook pushed his palm forwards, his power moving with him. The dagger struck Bolt’s back. You did not smile, but watched as it plunged ruthlessly into him, making his back arch and drawing a pitiful cry from his mouth.

No one was around to hear it, or to care. Tonight was as desolate as the night you had woken, alone and afraid, in a dark alley, left to die.

It wasn’t painless, but it was quick. Looking to Jungkook as Bolt fell silent, you found his hardened face awash with gold, like it was made of the metal itself. Only the twitch of his jaw as he yanked the glass from its victim belied the impression.

A thump as the body slumped among a soft chorus of grating glass.

The gold faded from Jungkook’s eyes. They turned to you, and you took his hand.

Thank you for reading this far into the series and sticking with it!!💜💜

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[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3923

[A/N]—Let it be known that this is my very first angst, so I apologize if it's not that good. I did try to do justice to Rio's character and not make her too much of an OOC.

Dedicated to: @blackiron11 & @yelenablshop

Finale III - part 3/3 (Rio x Reader Ending):

The little cottage in the woods was a welcoming change. You were not ready to return to your little apartment, not when Agatha’s loss was still fresh in your heart. Thankfully for you, Rio had a little place that you had been to more than a few times and nights included.

You did not speak to her or eat, and she realized you needed your time. After all, you had been as close to Agatha as her, if not more. Having work to do, she left you alone for a few hours, taking that time as involuntary help on what to do next with you and her feelings of pain about Agatha.

Your favourite place has always been the roof, whether that would be in your little house or any tall place in general. Being closer to the night sky and the moon always offered you comfort, and the change of view helped your mind think better and clearer.

Even though the moon would take hours to come up to the sky and offer you some comfort, you still had the sun. The warm rays felt odd against your skin, for they could not penetrate the cold you felt coming from your heart, the empty spot Agatha had left with her passing.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm your racing mind and not think more of that deadly kiss and Agatha’s body slowly decomposing in front of your very own eyes. You hugged your knees and closed your eyes, trying to think of something... anything other than your lover.

Suddenly, you felt that you were no longer alone. Lifting your head slowly, you wondered if Rio had chosen to return a little earlier than you expected. When you did not sense her right away, you grew suspicious, and you dared to look around you, checking the rest of the roof.

As you almost glanced behind you, something appeared in your vision and into your personal space.

“Boo!” a female voice said, startling you to the point that you moved back.

However, because you were already so close to the roof's edge, you lost your balance and fell off. Thankfully for you, your powers saved you from a harsh landing and then levitated you up, ready to face the intruder who dared to do this to you.

When you finally faced them, your eyes grew double in size. The intruder was not an enemy nor some random magical being—they were...

“Hello, sugar!” Agatha said, her familiar voice unmatched by anything.

You placed your feet by the edge of the roof and could not help but stare at your deceased lover. They were not exactly deceased this time, for they had become a ghost! Translucent and with white hair, only the face remained the same. Even the clothing had changed, somehow fitting her more than her usual witchy attire.

Words got stuck at the back of your throat, seeing her alive and just... there! You wanted to rush and hug her, to kiss her, but also to blast her with your magic. She had taken a ridiculous risk and acted upon selfish thoughts that she masked under the guidance of a selfless sacrifice...

You mourned for her, you felt your heart breaking into pieces, and yet here she was; damn proud she was a ghost.

In a moment of spontaneous anger, you slapped her or at least tried, for your hand passed through them, leaving your skin feeling a deadly cold that made you shiver.

Yet the move was enough to pass your point.

Agatha’s smirk faded from her face when she realized just how pissed off you were. It was not just your attempt to slap her that made her realize that, but also the way tears prickled at the edge of your eyes, a combination of pain, anger and joy bubbling inside of you.

“Sugar...” she called you, this time, her tone gentler.

“You...” your lip trembled faintly. “How? I saw you... I... saw you dying... and you are...”

“A ghost, yes,” she confirmed, her tone holding rather pride about her achievement. Before she could say anything else, you interrupted her.

“Did you know?” you dared to ask. “Did you know this would happen to you?”

Agatha parted her lips but did not reply to you immediately. Seeing you on the verge of tears, your white magic flickering in your arms as you were too emotionally unstable to control it broke her already dead heart.

“I didn’t. It was a... calculated risk.”

You snapped, and a blast of white magic passed through her. The intensity of your magic actually made her feel the energy left behind by your attack, but it did not truly harm her.

“A calculated risk?!” you spat, tears slowly escaping despite your best efforts to hold them back. “I thought you died!” you raised your voice. “I saw you die! Right in front of my very own eyes, you offered your soul to Rio! You left me mourn you just to tell me you would return...”

The older witch had always been more selfish, even when you were part of her life. Often, her selfish thoughts and plans changed when your well-being was in the way or when she knew both could gain something more.

When she approached Rio for that final kiss, Agatha truly did not know if she would manage to remain as a ghost. She was fully prepared to die there, for at least you and Billy would be free, and Rio would no longer haunt any of you.

When she managed to come back as a ghost, she thought you would be happy, for she could still be with you. She could eventually learn to touch more physical items and you with enough practice and concentration.

Yet she never thought of how you would feel in both cases, to stand and watch as everything unfolded before your eyes. She never thought how deeply her death would affect you, even after spending years away from one another, even after Agatha had a son with another woman.

At that moment, Agatha wanted to hug you, comfort you the way she used to when you were younger, keep you in her arms, kiss your head, then your nose, and then peck your lips as you lay in her arms.

She couldn’t though, for she had yet to learn how to do that in her new form.

“I am sorry, Y/N,” she said honestly. “I never meant to harm you, especially this way.”

Your white magic started to weaken as you focused on your rapid breathing, shoulders shaking from silent sobs as you processed what she said. “Then why did you?” you whispered.

“Because there was no other choice.”

“There is always a choice!” you argued, your voice getting louder and yet cracking. “We would have found a choice... we...”

Agatha sympathized with you. “We would do what, Y/N?” she asked, her tone a little stricter as she tried to make you think more like an adult, not a child. “Would we fight until we were all on the ground, bleeding and drained? Or would you let Rio take Billy because you have already proven you wouldn’t?” Her words harmed you like a knife in your heart. You parted your lips to argue, but she continued. “There was no other way, sugar and deep down, you know it. Rio got me, and she let you two go. The fact that I am a Ghost is more positive than negative.”

You glanced at the roof tiles beneath your feet, focusing on the little green stems between the tile gaps. Her words made sense, and you hated to admit she was right, for, in the end, few choices were left.

One way or another, Rio would get what she wanted.

And as much as you wanted to argue, to say you could have taken their place... you knew you lied to yourself. Rio would never take you, even if you voluntarily gave up your soul to her. Even if you dared to cut your veins at that moment and bleed to death, she would still go for Billy or Agatha.

“But why must this be the only solution? When we reached the end... we made progress...” you held back a sob, your throat closing faintly. “We would be together.”

Agatha floated closer, her hand itching to touch your face and cup your cheek. She tried but stopped before letting her translucent hand pass through your face. However, the fact that she was right in front of you and you could not touch one another only made your heart break into more pieces.

You thought, This is unfair. Then you looked at her, finding her just as beautiful and attractive as always, even with white hair.

“I know, sugar,” she comforted you with a sad smile. “But this is not the end, you know... I am still here, free, and I can assure you, I am having quite the fun annoying little maximoff.”

You frowned. “Billy? He knows you are a ghost?”

She nodded. “Yes, though he was definitely less happy to see me.”

“I wonder why,” you replied sarcastically, a weak smile slowly forming. “So, what will you do now? I doubt you will remain around.”

“I wish I could, Sugar, but we both know I cannot.”

She didn’t have to mention Rio by name to know she was the reason why Agatha could not stay with you.

“Then I can come with you; we can travel, " you suggested, hope warming you from within at the idea that there is still a chance for you to be with Agatha.

Her soft, sad smile was the reply you feared to get, even before her lips started moving. “We know this is not possible, sugar. Not now, at least.” Her fingers stopped inches away from touching you, yet her supernatural energy was faintly sensible to you. A little comfort was the only thing she could offer you. “Your path is no longer alongside mine. You should stay... stay with Rio. She needs you as much as you need her.”

You felt your eyes getting misty. “What about you?” your voice cracked.

“I will help Billy find his brother for a change.” She confessed, making you blink slowly. “What can I say? I warmed up to that annoying kid. Plus, I can’t let him do it alone; he will mess up all the hard work we did in getting his brother a body.”

Her tone and how she both complimented and commented about Billy made you crack a weak smile. Ghost or not, she was still the same Agatha you knew and had fallen in love with when you were a mere teenager.

“What about him getting you a body? If he is the son of the scarlet witch, he could.” You suggested.

She smiled gently. “Perhaps, with the right motivation and training.” Her fingers came closer to your cheek to make her presence a little more sensible to you. “Will see with time. But for now, we must focus on finding his loud brother.”

You nodded, subconsciously leaning against her fingers; not caring about the dark cold they made you feel when they passed through your skin. This was the best you could get from Agatha in this form; this was the closest thing you could get in actually touching her.

“So, is this a goodbye?” you dared to ask.

“Temporarily. When have our goodbyes ever been permanent?”

You smiled. “We always found one another.” You added, making her nod.

“And we will, again. I promise you that.” She leaned forward in an attempt to try and place a literal ghost kiss on your forehead.

You closed your eyes, trying hard to focus on any feeling coming from it, memorizing every second of that moment... and you did. It would never be like the real one, the physical warm one, but it was still there—a sign that Agatha was slowly getting better at handling her ghost form.

Perhaps by the next time you two would meet, she would be able to be more physical with you, even if she was no longer the warm touch you had learnt to yearn for.

She would still be your Agatha, and you would be her Sugar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun had started to set, and you had taken the time to make peace with what you had discovered and the fact that you did not know when you would see Agatha again.

You found that the nearby river helped with that once you mastered the courage to actually leave the rooftop. You did not know for how long you sat by the base of a willow, eyes locked on the shimmering waters, but you knew it was long enough for the sun to set slowly.

Feeling the cold breeze, you pulled your white cloak tighter around your body but refused to move. It was all so peaceful, from the sound of the river slowly making its way to the faint owls filling the nights. A few fireflies had started to show up as the sky above you darkened.

“You will get cold,” a familiar voice said from behind you, a new presence suddenly entering your radar.

Yet you did not react the same way you did with Agatha, for you quickly picked up Rio’s familiar present. Perhaps it helped that she was always so blended in with nature; nothing of her truly made her feel threatened or standing out... unless she wanted to.

“I will go inside in a little bit, " you replied, your eyes never leaving the crystal waters as they started to reflect the faint light, the new moon just a few days away.

Your reply did not seem to please Rio, for you felt her body pressed against yours. Long legs moved to each side, pressing you slightly closer and trapping you. Her arms moved to wrap around your waist, her chest pressed on your back, and she rested her chin on your shoulder.

This move was not new to you, for she had repeated it a few times, especially after you had recklessly spent hours outside staring and silently talking to the moon above. She never interrupted, but she refused to let you do it alone.

Thus, she would always perk herself up in a similar position, ensuring you would have both support and external warmth, though the latter was not really working considering her nature and how cold she always was.

The thought, though, truly made everything matter, and you appreciated it each time, never turning it down.

She did not have to speak or do anything, so I know you appreciated her attempt. She also knew you were not so keen on talking, at least not immediately, so you did not.

“How do you feel, baby girl?” she asked, one hand gently brushing through your hair while the other remained hooked around your waist.

You took a moment to answer, debating whether you should even mention Ghost Agatha. You were curious to see if Rio knew or how she could react. The thought did not remain for long in your mind; you quickly dismissed it.

“I... I don’t know...” you whispered.

You did not lie to her, for you truly did not know how exactly you felt at that moment. Your emotions were suddenly too complex, intertwined, and volatile to make sense of.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you leaned back, pressing your body against hers. She welcomed your move, pulling you as close as possible.

You chose to close your eyes for a moment, letting your mind focus on anything but your thoughts and emotions. You tried to focus on Rio’s body pressed against yours, your magic vibrating to the same frequency as hers, awakening the more she remained so close to you.

Her scent, while earthly, always stood out against the environment; it was always the one thing you could smell and target when she was around you. At first, that scent was odd to you, but the more you spent time in her presence, the more you learnt to recognise and love this scent.

Rio's Scent.

As you both stayed there, you were reminded of all the times you had been in the same or similar position. You were reminded of how often Rio would be your supporting pillar and your companion and how common it felt to you—how natural it felt to be in her embrace.

Opening your eyes slowly, something seemed to click in your mind. The last puzzle pieces finally found their places, completing the picture.

You might have lost Agatha, but you had yet to lose Rio. She was still present, physically capable of being there for you... like she had always been the last few decades, if not more. How often had you felt her presence, watching you from afar, long before the two of you met?

Far too long, you concluded. And she is still here.

You slowly moved forward, and at first, you felt Rio’s hand holding resistance, her grip firm around your waist. But when you started to twist your torso, trying to turn and see her better, she let you go.

“What is it?” Rio asked you, trying to decipher your latest mood.

Your switches and the impulsive actions you sometimes took were what she truly enjoyed about you, adding a little bit of spice to everything.

New moods and thoughts, different than usual actions... little mysteries and puzzles that challenged her to solve, evolve and improvise each time.

You did not give her an answer; instead, you moved your body more, twisting and turning until you had a better view of her beautiful face. One hand was lifted to cup her cheek. The different body temperatures between you were sensible by both parties.

Rio tilted her head faintly, pressing her cheek more against your warm hand; a subconscious move as she felt the powerful attraction caused to her by your magic, that still tingled when your skin’s touched; something that no one else could ever cause.

“Rio,” you breathed out her name slowly and deeply.

Her dark brown eyes darkened by your tone, for she swore she could hear the faint beg hiding behind. She placed her hand on top of yours, staring deep into your piercing eyes.

“Tell me what you want,” she ordered, her fingers faintly trying to curl around yours while her legs pressed against your torso, keeping you trapped there.

The answer to her commanding passive question came before you could process it.

“You.”

Without another word, you leaned forward and placed your lips against hers, your free hand grabbing her thigh. Your eyes closed, and you did not try to hide your need for this kiss, this contact, or the earthly taste of Rio’s lips.

Rio did not hesitate to return the action, moving forward to deepen and properly claim the kiss, her head pushing yours back. Like a starved woman, she attacked your lips the way she had back at the cabin, her arms pulling you even closer as if trying to make you one with her... and you wished you could be.

You parted your lips more, letting her take control as you willingly submitted to her. Your mind went hazy at that moment; your thoughts were silenced, and you chased after that as well.

The hand on her thigh squeezed when you felt her teeth pulling at your bottom lip once again. Your fingers pressed into her flesh to the point a faint bruising would form, and you knew that had your nails been longer, they would have drawn blood.

Yet this move held you stable, offering you a weak way of trying to remain and not fully melt into her arms. You failed because she took that move as a welcoming challenge and bit on your bottom lip until you both felt the metallic taste of blood shared between your tongues.

“Mmmm!” The kiss muffled any noises or words you tried to let out, and you pulled back only after your lungs started to burn.

She let you in, but she also wasted no time pushing you, gently moving you until your back met the tall grass you both had been sitting on. She pressed your hands next to your head, her skilled long fingers interlocking with yours.

“Rio,” you called her out, staring at her as she hovered above your laying form. Her eyes were dark with desire, something that both made you wish to obey and intensified by testing the waters.

“You did not answer me, baby girl. What do you want?” she asked, clearly wishing to hear you say it first.

You might have initiated the first move, but that was not enough. She needed you to say it, beg for it; you could even try to demand it but she needed to truly sense it before she would give it to you.

Your lips parted, the thin trail of blood entering your mouth, but that was the least of your concerns. As you regained your breathing, you could not help but stare at her whole her. The beauty she exuded without effort, the danger and thrill her dark brown eyes held... the masterful fingers that could dig deeper and more skilled than anyone else’s.

At that moment, perhaps it was your aching heart in need of some comfort or a sign from the universe itself, but you finally had a clear head to see what you still possessed... and wanted.

“You,” you whispered, your courage growing along with the rising heat between your legs. “I want you, Rio. All of you, now and forever.”

Rio was taken aback momentarily, for no one had ever spoken such words to her, not even Agatha. Were you anyone else, she would have laughed at the obvious lie, but she knew you were telling the truth.

The need to be with her, twist and bend and melt until your souls intertwined, was something she could practically smell on you, let alone sense by how more vibrant your magic core was, reacting with her presence, like two halves of a whole.

“Then you will have me,” she finally answered, lowering her head and bringing it closer to you. “As you always meant to.”

This time she kissed you first, pressing your head more against the ground as she sucked on your faintly bruised and bitten lip, causing fresh blood to flow into her mouth, but that only excited and motivated her more.

Her legs straddled your waist, and she pressed her body more on you without adding too much weight. Her hair tickled your cheek faintly as one hand let yours go and started to roam your body, following a well-memorized map invisibly existing on your skin.

At that moment, as you felt her slowly admiring you with her touch, marking your kiss with her teeth, and whispering your name by your ear, you truly felt your heart beating again, beating for someone, again... beating for her.

[cinnamongorll]

Wildflower - chapter 2

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Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC Synopsis: Joel Miller is an infuriating constant in Alex’s life. As her dad’s best friend and smuggling partner, she can’t seem to avoid him no matter how hard she tries.  When a weapons trade off goes wrong and Alex becomes the next target in a dangerous revenge vendetta, Joel is forced to uphold the promise he made to his friend to protect his daughter from the dangers of the post-apocalyptic world. But when Alex and Joel reluctantly grow closer, and she starts to peel back the layers of animosity between them, Alex realises that nothing is what it seems and that trusting Joel might be more dangerous than anything outside the QZ walls. Series tags: dbf!Joel, age gap (Joel is 49, FMC is 26), older man/younger woman, slow burn, enemies to lovers, mean Joel, protective Joel, dark Joel, sexual tension, smut, mutual pining, feral Joel, first person pov, angst, more tags to be added, ultraviolence Joel. Chapter warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence. Also, Joel is pretty mean in this one, sorry xx Word count: 6.5k

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Chapter 2:

“Yes.”

The word leaves my mouth and the firm grip on my face disappears before I can prepare myself for the loss of my anchor.  

Joel’s hands retreat to rest against his thighs, fingers curling into tight fists. His head is turned away from me, scanning the crowd, tracking the movement around us. Without his grip, my body deflates and I blink, trying to catch my breath. The air pulls and pushes against the inside of my chest, forcing my mouth to remain open in desperate gasps which neither fill my lungs nor bring me any sense of relief. 

Mourners, witnesses, and survivors just going about their day crash into us from all sides. The square is becoming smaller and smaller as more people file past the stage where the wooden structure stands, where the bodies swing, where my - 

“Joel,” I bite out, my stare burning into the side of his face. 

His head drops towards me. When his eyes catch mine he winces as though caught off guard by the grief that’s splattered over my face. 

“What?” he demands under his breath as his gaze detaches from mine almost immediately, back to scanning buildings and people. I’m abandoned, alone in my confusion.

Someone crashes into me and I stagger to the side, into another man who growls out a loud curse and pushes me away from him. I’m lost in a sea of bodies and screams, my heartbeat roars in my ears as another elbow digs into my side and a foot slams on top of my own. 

I grunt in pain as I twist and turn in the waves of people. I can’t see Joel and, with every push and shove, I’m dragged closer and closer to the gallows. My hands reach out, grabbing at clothing and arms and anything that will stop me from moving towards my dad’s swinging body.

I want to scream. I can feel it crawling up my throat again as another shoulder carves into my chest, but I remember what Joel said. The awareness of guns scanning the crowd seizes my throat and I feel myself choke out a gargled yell that I couldn’t quite keep contained. 

Who are these people? What happened to my dad? Where is Joel?

He told me to trust him, that he’d get us out of here. But he let go, and now I’m floating helplessly in unknown waters, in a battle with no knowledge of my opponents. 

I’m spun around with the flow of people and my eyes catch sight of my dad. 

It’s like someone has reached into my lungs and stolen all the air I’ve so desperately consumed, like I'm being suffocated from the inside. My heart moves at a hummingbird's pace, rippling and thrashing against my thin jumper. 

For a moment I think that time has stopped, but, no, it's worse than that: time keeps moving. People around me keep pushing, my legs keep stumbling. If time stood still, if everyone would just stop moving for a second, I was sure that I could figure this out, that I could wake up from this nightmare. 

I’d realise that this is all a mistake, a misunderstanding. I’d realise that, no, that isn’t my dad up there, it’s someone else, of course. This is someone else’s nightmare, not mine. Please, god, can everyone just STOP. 

Please.

STOP.

I don’t realise I’m saying the words, screaming them, even, until the hand I’ve come to  intimately recognise slides across my open mouth. 

His chest is pressed against my back, his mouth drops to my ear. 

“Don’t turn round, don’t make a sound. Just keep movin,’” Joel growls in my ear.

Something resembling relief pumps through my bloodstream and, by some miracle, my legs don’t falter at the malice in his tone and I fulfil his demand. My legs keep moving, fortified by Joel’s own stride that shadows my own. 

I can’t see anything past the sea of people that I’m swimming through. But Joel does, and he grunts directions in my ear as we weave through the square. “Left” “Right” “Stop” “Keep goin.’” His hand has dropped from my mouth to rest casually on my shoulder, like he does this all the time. 

I realise quickly that this is a performance. Joel is a puppet master, pulling at my strings, pushing me around in some dance I don’t know the moves to. I don’t even know who’s in the audience, who is watching us… who wants us dead. 

I feel Joel stiffen against me at every shove I face as I try to follow his commands, and I hear him unleash low warnings to those who get in our way: “watch it” “move.” 

I shiver at the cold authority in his voice, and those around us do as well. I can sense, though, that Joel is holding himself back, that he could easily clear those who cling to us. But I have enough awareness to understand that Joel is using the violence of the crowd to our advantage; embracing the anonymity of being another stumbling victim in an ocean of people travelling in numerous directions. 

When the sight of legs and shoes give away and I begin to get a clearer view of the ground, I feel Joel’s grip on my shoulders tighten and I’m swept into an alleyway.

His movements are too quick and his hold on me is too strong for any protests to leave my lips. My back hits the brick wall hard and a choked gasp unleashes from my throat as my eyes flash up to meet Joel’s face which is once again turned away from me.  

We’re in a small alleyway, it’s dark and muggy, and as my eyes dart around the space I see tipped bins, leaking unfamiliar fluids onto the cracked concrete, and piles of discarded clothing against the walls. I shiver despite everything, despite the two hands that are holding firm to my shoulders, pinning me against the wall. 

“Joel, what’s happening?” I whisper. 

His eyes drop to mine. Joel is breathing heavily, he’s standing so close I can feel his chest rise with every quick breath. It takes me a moment to notice the ire in his eyes, but when I do, I press my back harder against the wall behind me.

“Told you not to make a sound,” he grinds out. His gaze is unfocused, darting between me and the street to my left which continues to pump out people moving in different directions, some escaping the horror in the square and some desperate to steal a look. 

“And you told me you’d get us out of this, but all you’ve done is lose me in the crowd and get us trapped in an alley,” I retort, enjoying the sudden anger that pulses over my skin. It feels much better than fear. 

Joel stiffens and his hands flex against me, increasing their pressure on my shoulders. 

“Don’t be a fuckin’ smartass,” he seethes with his jaw clenched, pupils flaring. 

I know I should be frightened by Joel’s anger. I know what he’s capable of, I know that he could leave me here to get killed and I know that he wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. But for some reason, I feel a strange sense of immunity. 

In fifteen minutes, my entire world has gone up in flames. I’m standing in the ash pile, waiting for the next fire to catch. 

Joel’s anger isn’t a new threat, it’s an old one, familiar and predictable. The blaze that he ignites is one I like to run my fingers over, enjoying the heat of the burn. 

I tilt my chin up, meeting his narrowed eyes. “Tell me what’s happening, now.” 

He scoffs as his head swings towards the street, then after he’s satisfied that the crowd is still thick, his eyes find mine again. The anger is rippling off him in waves, along with something else that I don’t think I’ve ever seen in Joel: fear.

“You agreed to trust me.”

I shift to stand straighter. His grip eases to let me. 

“Trust only works if it goes both ways.” 

I watch Joel’s jaw move as he digests my words. Then, his eyes fly upwards, a long breath releases from his mouth and he purses his lips. 

My own breath huffs out of me when I realise I’ve won. 

“We took some weapons from the wrong people,” he reveals in a low, grumbling voice as though every word is a struggle. 

“You mean you stole them?” I challenge. Goosebumps trail over my skin as my brain fills in the blanks, jumping to conclusions.

Joel’s chin drops in a sharp nod. 

“Fuck,” I sigh as my eyes follow the movement in the street before returning to his black stare in the dim light of the alley. 

“So what? The people you stole from are the ones who - who,” my throat catches and I swallow roughly, unable to verbalise the reality that I’m confronted with.

Joel’s silence is answer enough. 

I feel tears prick at the corner of my eyes but I’m quick to blink them away. Anger still bleeds out of me and I’m not ready to stem the flow yet, it’s the only thing holding me from  breaking down. 

“Who’s idea was it?” I demand, pushing forward, forcing Joel’s grip on my shoulders to loosen. “To steal the weapons?” 

Joel straightens, standing taller. I can practically feel the rage rising in him. Too bad - I’m angrier. 

I plant my palms on his hard chest and push. “Are you the reason he’s dead?” I attempt to sneer but my voice comes out choked and raw. I watch as Joel takes a step backwards, his eyes somehow darkening further. 

My breaths grow heavy as I wait for him to retaliate; to deny my accusation or push back even harder, to pin me to the wall or even turn and walk away. But he doesn’t, Joel just stares down at me, his eyes roaming over my face as a muscle jumps in his cheek. 

I’m disappointed, I realise after a few seconds. I wanted the push back, I wanted the fight. So, I try again. 

“This is your fault, isn’t it? They’re here because of you,” I taunt, stepping into the space he vacated until my chest almost grazes his. My head is tilted up, my eyebrows are raised. 

Joel says nothing but I watch with satisfaction as his breaths grow sharp and fast and my snide smile lengthens. 

“You got my dad killed, and I’m gonna be next because of you,” I fume, lifting my hands to his chest again to unleash another inch of my anger. 

But my fingers don’t even graze the dark material of Joel’s shirt before his hands wrap around my wrists as he forcefully twists my body around until my arms are pinned behind my back, secured with one hand while the other wraps around my throat, pulling me against him. 

I struggle, shaking my shoulders, attempting to kick his legs, but with every retaliation I feel the grip on my throat increase.

My anger gives way to fear again and, as the red cloud clears, I realise that I’ve been walking along the tightrope of Joel’s fragile patience, and with those last words thrown his way, it snapped, leaving me dangling at the mercy of his sick punishment. 

Joel is sneering in my ear, I can practically feel the snarl on his lips as he grunts and pants while securing my complete submission. 

“Keep talkin’,” he taunts with a growl along the shell of my ear. I’m gasping now, my mouth is open wide but only a minimal amount of air is allowed to enter. 

I feel Joel’s laugh rumble against my back as his grip suddenly eases and my chin drops against his arm as I gulp down the precious air that he refused me.  

“I made a promise to your dad to keep you safe,” he hisses as I land another kick to his shin. I bite my lip when he pulls me closer and my eyes squeeze shut when his hand hovers over my neck like a warning. “But if I hadn’t,” Joel pauses and grunts out a harsh, humourless laugh. “I would’a left you out in the open for a bullet to find you.” 

My body goes limp in his hold. I’m still gasping, greedily swallowing air in case his hand once again finds itself wrapped around my throat. 

“I don’t want your help,” I manage to croak. 

“Too fuckin’ bad,” Joel drawls as he finally realeases me, and I stumble forward, my hands reaching up to cradle my neck before I spin around to face him. 

“Choking me isn’t a good way to get me to trust you,” I cough out, pinning him with my stare.

Joel considers me for a moment, his eyes skimming down my face until they drop to my trembling hands. He looks away quickly and I watch him blink a few times before he wipes a hand over his forehead and turns back towards me. Some of the malice has disappeared from his face. He looks tired, defeated, almost.  

“You already agreed, sweetheart,” Joel replies, but his voice has lost all its fight. “Only way we’re gettin out of this is if you follow my lead.” 

He’s right, I know he is, but my agreement gets caught in my tender throat. 

When I don’t answer, Joel steps forward.

I flinch.

He stops, immediately, and something resembling remorse ripples in his eyes. 

“Got it?” he demands slowly, carefully. 

I look out into the street. The crowd is starting to thin, if we don’t move now, we’re going to lose the cover it gives us. 

“Got it,” I reply. But my response doesn’t sound like a willingness to survive this situation he’s got us in, it sounds more like a sign that I've lost. 

………………………….

We walk side by side through the streets, Joel’s hand is wrapped loosely around my wrist. 

I keep my gaze forward, focusing on putting one foot in front of another. As we move, Joel murmurs quiet commands, altering me when he wants to turn a corner, letting me know that there’s no sign of the snipers, telling me to walk quicker. 

Soon, through the fear and horror that drenches my vision, I recognise where we’re headed. 

“Don’t tell me we’re going back to my apartment,” I whisper sharply. 

Joel doesn’t respond but his footsteps are harsher across the pavement. 

“Joel,” I hiss as I continue to stare straight ahead. “If people are looking for us, our apartments are the first place they’re gonna look.” 

His face whips towards mine and I know I’ve snapped his patience again. 

“We need a place to lay low, to figure this out,” he explains with a biting tone. “And unless you’ve been breakin the rules, no one knows where either of us live.”

My stomach drops but I don’t let my steps falter.

“Fine, okay.”  

My dad had strict rules to keep our heads down, not to make friends, to make sure that we were never noticed. By all accounts, we lived like ghosts in the QZ. 

Joel’s right, no one should know where either of us live. 

In theory. 

His name sits on the tip of my tongue, ready to tell Joel about the one person I gave my address to. But I can still feel the strength of his hand wrapped tight around my throat, warning me that my next misstep might hurt even more. So I keep quiet. 

I broke his rule, just once. Theo would come when Joel and my dad had left, knocking on my door, stripping off my clothes, dipping my body onto my mattress, grunting my name. 

It was casual, fun, inconsequential… right? 

I feel Joel tug on my wrist and I quicken my steps, head down as he leads me home. 

…………………….

My legs give out as I step into my apartment. 

I slide down the wall beside the door as the weight of my new reality is forced down on my shoulders. 

He’s dead. 

He’s not coming home. 

My ears are ringing, my heartbeat is screeching in my ears, drowning out the sound of Joel’s footsteps as he locks the door, steps around me and strides to the window, pulling down the makeshift blinds. 

The apartment is plunged into darkness until he finds the lamp and turns it on. 

Immediately, I’m coated in flickering yellow light and I have to cover my mouth to keep the sob from erupting. Or maybe a scream, I don’t know. 

Joel is talking to me. I can’t hear him but I can see his mouth moving and his eyebrows furrowing when he notices I’m not responding. 

He throws his hands in the air and turns, walking until he reaches the rug in my dad’s room. I squint my eyes when he rolls up the edge and opens the compartment under the floorboards that I hadn’t realised he knew about. 

When he turns back around, there’s a gun in each hand. 

Are they some of the stolen guns?

My hand drops from my mouth as he walks closer, and my chin tilts up to meet the look he’s pinning me with. His eyes survey my face, probably condemning me for the tears that wet my cheeks and the red splotches that stain my skin. 

I expect him to shout at me, to tell me to get up, to stop crying, to stop being weak. 

But he doesn’t. Instead, Joel reaches out, gun dangling from his grip. 

I blink up at him, lines forming on my forehead as my grief stricken mind attempts to understand what kind of game he’s playing.

“Take it,” he commands when I make no move to accept. 

I shake my head quickly and drop my limp hands to the floor. 

“I don’t know how to use it,” I confess, exhaustion clipping my voice. My pride is overshadowed by my grief and fear as I reveal my weakness to the man who had held my life between his hands less than an hour ago. 

His eyebrows shoot to the roof. “You’re jokin.”

Despite my numbness, a fierce pulse of mortification still shoots through my body. 

“Do I look like I’m fucking joking,” I fume as I push myself off the floor and straighten my spine.

The gun hangs between us. 

I’m reminded of the night before, when it was me who handed the gun to my dad. If I take the weapon from Joel, will I meet the same fate? 

I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand, then cross my arms over my chest before my gaze finally lands on Joel’s face. He’s watching me with that reluctant curiosity again and I squeeze my arms tighter to shake the chill of his attention. 

Eventually, he shakes his head and pockets one of the guns. When only one remains in his hand, Joel nods at me.

“Watch.” 

His command has my eyes flashing to his hand, gripped tight around the gun. Joel’s veins are like ropes rippling under his skin as he waits for my full attention. 

“Point down, check it’s loaded, safety off, point, shoot.” 

His instructions are short and blunt but I find myself mesmerised by the movements he makes. Joel’s fingers look like they were moulded to wrap around the handle of a gun. They ache power and scream pain. 

I notice the blood on them, too. Blackness curled around his nail beds and a red tinge staining his knuckles. 

I force my eyes back up to his, and I swallow when I find him already surveying my expression. He looks like he’s taking note. 

“Understand?” he asks roughly after a moment. 

I nod, and accept the weapon into my hand when he tries again. It’s heavy, like the weight of what it means is dragging me down. 

“Why are you giving me this?” 

Joel sighs and rubs his neck, his muscles straining under his shirt. 

“To protect yourself while I’m gone,” he says calmly, still watching me with close attention. 

“What? Gone? Where are you going?” questions spill from my mouth and Joel’s eyes hit the ceiling again before he turns and marches towards the radio by the window. 

I’m on his heels, matching his steps, begging for answers. Panic has attacked my chest, firing lightening bolts of fear throughout my body. 

When he doesn’t turn around, without thinking, I reach out a hand, meaning to land on his broad shoulder and force him to meet my questioning glare. But he catches it before I touch him. Once again, Joel’s hand is wrapped around my wrist and he holds my arm in suspension between us, reminding me of the power he holds in his body. 

“Stop askin’ so many questions,” he grunts before dropping my arm.

I choke out a laugh. It’s so absurd, his absolute refusal to let me in on his plans. 

“Are you being serious? You’ve told me next to nothing about what is going on and now you’re leaving? I have a right to know where you’re going,” I argue, my words are frenzied and breathless. 

Joel dismisses my desperation with a cruel shake of his head, like I’m a child who’s reached their curiosity limit.

His hands curl into tight fists and I involuntarily take a step back until the back of my legs meet the cushions of our worn couch. 

Joel tracks the movement with a sharp inhale. 

“I’m gettin’ us a way out of here, that’s all you need to know,” he answers before turning and stalking towards the apartment door. 

“Out of the QZ?” I blurt out, my voice loud and pleading as I follow his brutal path. 

“You wanna stay here and get killed? Be my fuckin’ guest,” he calls over his shoulder. His threat is meaningless after confessing the vow he made, but a part of me wonders how far his loyalty to my dad goes. 

I swallow down the scream of frustration that threatens to erupt from me, and I dig my nails into my palms, imagining that they’re wrapped around his throat instead. 

“I’m coming with you,” I declare, straightening my spine, trying to appear taller, more capable. 

Joel freezes at my words, his hand paused on its journey to the first lock on the door. I can feel the weight of the sigh he releases before he turns on me, striding forward until he’s towering over me, consuming the space around us with his dominating presence. 

I can practically see the seconds that we’re wasting ticking behind his eyes. Every moment is on the clock now, counting down to those snipers finding us. 

“You’re stayin’ here, end of story,” Joel proclaims with a tilt of his head that has goosebumps rising again on my skin. 

I picture Joel walking out the door, leaving me here alone, unable to shoot, unable to fight, just waiting for him to return. Left to face the cold fury of my grief in this dark apartment that’s coated in memories of the man who now swings from a thick rope.

I consider begging, getting on my knees with my hands clasped and staring up at Joel while I plead with him not to leave me here, to let me come with him. 

I hate this. I hate depending on Joel Miller of all people. My dad’s psychopathic friend. 

But he’s all I have. 

“Don’t leave me,” I plead, scanning his face, searching for any sign of a living breathing person behind the wall of stoicism that he’s built. 

I watch as his eyes narrow and he grits his teeth. 

“Grow up,” Joel scolds, and with one last withering look, he returns to the lock.

His words are like a blow to my stomach and I cough out a choked breath. Heat rises in my cheeks as mortification and anger ripple under my skin. 

I stagger backwards as he pulls the door open. My questions lay unspoken, having died by Joel’s sword of cruelty. 

He turns before leaving but he doesn’t meet my eyes. I wonder if he fears what he’d find in them.

Then, Joel says the same words he uttered last night, before everything went to hell. 

“Don’t do anythin’ stupid.” 

……………………….

The gun is on the table, resting just a few inches away from my fingers which drum on the hardwood surface. 

He left me, he fucking left me. 

I’m seething, every bone in my body is groaning under the weight of my rage. My fingers tap to the rhythm of the thoughts that shoot through my mind. Questions, visions, worries, and regrets meld together into a ball of nausea that surges in my gut. 

I don’t know how long Joel has been gone. Minutes or hours, I can’t tell. The blinds are still drawn and the only light that illuminates the space is the broken lamp that mocks me with its flickering light. 

I imagine myself lifting the gun from the table and following after Joel, surprising him with my capability, shocking him into telling me the truth. 

My eyes squeeze shut until I see nothing but darkness, erasing the vision entirely. 

I wouldn’t even know where to start. I can barely touch the gun without flinching and I don’t have a single clue where my dad’s connections live. He didn’t want this life for me, and I’ve always been content in trusting him with my safety. 

My fingers stop drumming and lift to push into my eyes, turning the darkness into a bright searing orange behind my lids. 

Now my past indifference in learning how to protect myself has caught up to me, and I have to trust Joel fucking Miller with my life. 

What a sick joke. 

I drop my hands to the table with a loud thud, enjoying the slight burn that flashes up my arms when they connect with the hard surface. 

With my palms flat, I push myself out of the chair and stand, inhaling long deep breaths as I turn in a slow circle, taking in every inch of the home that’s closing in on me. 

I wince when my eyes find that broken bulb, bathing me in its fractured glow.

Without thinking, I’m moving towards it, gripping the cold metal stem with my hand and slamming down towards the floor. The light ceases immediately. Glass splatters around my feet, latching onto the laces on my boots and implanting in the rubber sole. 

Sharp breaths claw out of my lungs as I stand over the carnage. My relief is mixed with sorrow as I drop to the floor, my legs shaking as they make their descent. 

The glass bites into my jeans but I can’t see their fractured points. The apartment has collapsed into shallow darkness, faintly illuminated by the threads of daylight that leak out the corners of the blinds Joel pulled down. 

My face is wet again, I can feel the tears drip off my skin, landing somewhere I can’t see. 

My breaths are ragged like the fragmented edges of the glass rubble I rest on. I don’t know how to see past this darkness, I don’t know what my life is going to look like when Joel returns. I’ve been dragged into a mess I don’t even know how to begin to clean up. 

All I know is that Joel and my dad’s smuggling enterprise might have been more dangerous than I thought. 

I lean forward, lifting my arms to cradle around my bent knees as my hair falls around my face like a black veil. 

Joel is capable, I remind myself. If anyone can get us out of this, it’s probably him. He’s a dick but he knows what he’s doing. 

My teeth capture my bottom lip as I consider the frightening reality that despite every bit of survival instinct he has going for him, Joel still managed to get himself targeted by a group strong enough to infiltrate a QZ. 

So Joel can make mistakes, afterall. 

I inhale a shaky breath, but the exhale doesn’t come. 

A loud bang rattles the apartment door. My head swings towards it, hair flying around my face. 

I don’t move, I don’t breathe.

Another bang, a fist hitting off the wood with enough force to shake the doorframe. 

This isn’t Joel. He wouldn’t make that much noise. His knocks are quiet, contained, covert. 

My heart starts to pound. 

This isn’t Joel. 

Panic slams into me. I have to move, I have to hide, I have to do something. 

My hands land on the glass speckled floor and the fractures bite into my skin as I push myself up, moving my legs as slowly as possible. 

I’m standing when I hear the voice. 

“Alex!” it calls. “Are you in there? Open up!” 

Shit. 

I race to the door, my feet crunching over the lamp’s debris. I don’t even look through the peephole, I know exactly who is behind the door. And if he doesn’t shut up he’s going to get us killed.

My fingers are rapid as they release the locks and pry the door open. 

Theo stands on the other side, his chest moving quickly like he’s been running. I don’t give him a chance to catch his breath. I grip his arm and pull him into the apartment, shutting the door quietly. 

“Did anyone follow you?” I demand, sliding my eyes across his face before I turn to deadbolt the door. 

“Follow me? Alex what’s going on?” he asks softly, his eyebrows pinched and mouth gaping. “I saw your dad -” 

My back meets the door. I raise a hand, stopping him. I beg him with my desperate stare to not say the words. My mind is so fragile right now, one more reminder of my dad will shatter it entirely. 

“Did anyone follow you? Please, just answer the question,” I plead, making a considerable effort to calm my voice.

“No, of course not. Why? Is someone looking for you?” Theo asks, stepping closer. 

I drop my head into my hands with a heavy breath. “I don’t know,” I mumble into my palms. 

Strong arms wrap around my middle and pull me into his warm chest. I drop my hands to curl around Theo’s back, fingers gripping the soft material of his t-shirt. 

“What’s going on? You can tell me,” he whispers into my hair. 

“I can’t,” I murmur into his chest.

I can feel Theo try to pull back, to meet my eyes in the dim lighting, to uncover what’s happening, but I’m not ready to let go yet. I just hold him tighter, basking in the comfort of his touch. I allow myself to disarm for a moment, to let the weight of the last few hours fall onto me. 

My breaths come easier, I can feel my mind begin to settle. My thoughts are clearer. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” I say when I drop my arms back to my side and peel my cheek from the safety of his chest. 

Theo brushes a hand across my hair, tucking a few strands behind my ear. “Alex, please. Are you okay?” 

“He’s dead,” I croak out, blinking up at him. Theo is only half visible in the light and I appreciate that I can’t see the pity I’m sure is shining in his eyes, just as I also appreciate the fact that he can’t make out the full extent of the devastation and fear on my own face.

“I know - I came as soon as I saw. I’d heard they had caught a bunch of smugglers last night but I had no idea your dad…” Theo trails off, leaving the rest of his words to remain unspoken, like my dad’s occupation always was. 

“Come on,” he breathes as he takes my hand and leads me through the darkness to the couch. 

I sink into the cushion as Theo wraps an arm around my shoulders. He’s always been good at calming me down. 

In the back of my mind, a voice yells at me, telling me that he can’t be here. What if someone followed him to this building? What if Joel comes back and finds him - 

An image of Joel pointing a gun at Theo’s head flashes across my vision. 

I stand quickly. Theo’s arm falls to the back of the couch. 

“Alex?” he asks, sitting forward.

I shake my head and send a small smile in his direction. “I’ll just be a second.” 

My legs tremble as I walk towards the kitchen. I run my hands through my hair, tugging at my scalp, begging myself to think of some excuse, some explanation for why I need Theo to leave, to protect himself, to stay away from me, to not get caught up in this mess. 

I’m standing at the table, my fingers pressing into the wood. The gun sits inches away, predicting a future I want nothing to do with. 

“Alex -” 

Theo’s voice is cut off by the sound of locks exploding. 

I swipe my hand across the table, grabbing the gun as I drop to the floor. My hand covers my ears as my mouth opens in a silent scream. 

The open door illuminates the apartment in a bright, exposing light. From under the table, I see a man I don’t recognise march towards Theo.

“What are you -” 

A trigger is pulled and I watch in a state of absolute horror as my friend’s head swings backwards with the force of the bullet that shoots through his skull. 

My hands pile over my mouth, feverishly holding in my scream. My gun is pressed against the side of my face. Every inch of me is shaking. I can’t move, I can’t feel anything but terror. 

The man turns and I know with a sharp pulse of dread that he’s spotted me. It locks my muscles and steals my breath. 

At least I didn’t have to live too long in my grief, I think. 

What are you doin’? MOVE

My eyes flash open at the imaginary sound of Joel’s voice rattling through my skull. 

“What do we have here?” the man taunts as he stalks closer. I wonder where he’ll shoot me? In the head like Theo? Or maybe the heart, let me bleed out slowly?

“Are you hiding?” the man laughs and his feet pause their movements. “Seriously?” 

I grit my teeth, confused at the man’s taunting. There’s something in his tone like he wants me to fight back, like he wants to punish me.

I think of my dad, and how hard he tried to keep me from this life. I blow out a trembling breath, he wouldn’t want me to die like this. 

From my position, I can’t see anything but the man’s feet planted on the other side of the table. The gun shakes in my sweaty palms as I try to remember Joel’s instructions. 

“Point down, check it’s loaded, safety off, point, shoot.” 

Blood roars in my ears as I follow the rhythm he showed me. The man continues his taunting, but I can only vaguely make out his snide remarks, trying to bait me out from under the table. 

Seconds later, the safety is off and I shoot before the man can react to the sound of the soft click. 

A strangled yell ricochets off the walls of the apartment and I tip backwards with the force of the gunshot. 

I hit his thigh, I think. 

I’m in shock but my brain still screams at me to move, to get out of here, to use this distraction to my advantage. 

My ears are ringing, and I can see a cloud of blackness enter the corner of my eyes that tells me that fainting is a real possibility, but I tighten my hold on the gun as I begin to crawl. 

I release a sharp, guttural scream when my head is lurched backwards as a hand wraps around my hair with a blaze of white hot pain across my scalp.

The gun drops to the floor as my hands fly up to grip my head, to try and block my attack. 

“You little bitch,” the man snarls in my ears as he pulls harder, dragging me upwards until I’m standing. I stumble and struggle in his grip but he doesn’t let up his vice like hold. 

“Guess you’re not so different from your dad then, are you?” he grunts out as I attempt to slam my back into his chest. 

My life is hanging by a very weathered thread and yet my eyes still prick with the mention of my dad. 

“If this is about the weapons,” I gasp out through gritted teeth as he increases his hold on my hair. “We can sort this out - we can pay you back.” 

The man’s answering laugh frightens me more than the sight of his gun. 

“You think this is about some stolen weapons?” he demands, his voice is blaring in my ears and I flinch, squeezing my eyes shut. 

For a short moment, myself and this man both pause in a display of our mutual confusion but the cold rim of the gun that finds my temple ends our short truce. 

I release a trembling breath. In fear or relief, I’m not sure. 

“Shit.” 

Something hot and sticky splatters against the back of my head and I drop to the floor, released from the man’s brutal hold. My eyes open when my body hits the ground. I can’t hear anything, my limbs aren’t responding to my commands to move, to get up, to run. 

Am I dead?

Hands land on my shoulders and I twist around, throwing my arms around and kicking with all the strength I didn’t know I had. My eyes are wide but they’re unseeing. I’m moving too quickly to focus on any single thing. 

Whoever is touching me is strong and once they land a firm grip on my shoulders, I’m pinned to the floor with only my legs to continue fighting for me. 

“Alex, stop.” 

My body goes limp, following the command without question. I blink rapidly, trying to clear the terror from my eyes.

“Joel.” I slur his name as his face appears above me. 

He’s furious. The line between his eyebrows looks like it's been carved out with a knife. 

“You hurt?” he demands, his voice sends shivers down my aching spine.

I shake my head and wince when the movement sends another wave of dizziness to wash over me. 

Joel seems unconvinced. He releases one of my shoulders to search my body for wounds. Flames erupt under my skin where his hand grazes me.

When he’s satisfied, Joel leans back until he’s on his knees, perched over me. 

The black cloud that darkened my vision has returned, curling around the edges like ink in water. My breaths can’t keep up with the pace of my heartbeat. 

Joel frowns as he looks down at me. 

“You left me,” I murmur.

Then the black cloud claims me as its victim.

-----------------------------------------------

@kaseyconnour @casa-boiardi

-----------------------------------------------

Hey!! Thanks for reading!! I'm going away again for a few days and then I'm starting my new job so I'm going to try and aim for a new chapter every 2 weeks - hope that's okay 🤍

[embersofhope-if]

"On the 25th anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes that who would represent it."

Twenty-five years have passed since the rebellion, yet the price is still being paid by the Districts. Even though most people alive today had no part in the fight, they suffer the consequences of the Capitol's anger. The harsh reality of the Capitol's cruelty is revealed every year on July 4th, Reaping Day. On this day, two children from each of the 12 districts are randomly chosen to fight to the death in an arena until only a lone victor remains. Parents hold their children close and hope it isn't their child who will be ripped away from them, knowing that there is nothing they can do to stop it.

However, this year is different. This year marks the very first Quarter Quell, and parents don't have to worry about whether their children might be taken away because, for this once-in-a-lifetime event, they get to choose who goes into the arena. But there's no doubt in anyone's mind who's going in when the mayor has a child of his own - me.

Now it's my turn to play a true game of life or death. May the odds be ever in my favor

Demo ☆ Playlist ☆ Pinterest

Customize your appearance (hair type and color, complexion, height, build, clothing)

Choose how you interact with the Capitol and those of your District

Form new relationships and change the ones you already have

Train in the weapon of your choice yes including a bow

Try not to die<3

17+. Content warnings for graphic violence, child death, child abuse/neglect, starvation, murder

Creon Levesque ♤ The Mentor ♤ RO ♤ 19

A special friend in very special places. I met Creon when you were 12 years old at a dinner party my Uncle Keyon had brought me to in the Capitol. Maybe it was the fact that I was very obviously District or maybe it was something else entirely, but from that night forward, Creon and I have had an intense and strange relationship. And now they stand before me assuring me that with them as a mentor, everything will be alright. How they managed to get themselves as a mentor they won't tell me, but honestly, in the end, does it matter?

♤Creon is gender selectable by the player♤

Romance Route: Red flag of all red flags, forbidden love, different worlds, insta love (at least on Creons part)

Aurelius/Aurelia Weaver ♧ The District Partner ♧ RO ♧ 18

My district partner. I don't know them that well, especially after they dropped out of school at 16 to work full-time in the factories. I'm not entirely sure what I did to them to warrant the looks of pure disgust and anger they throw my way after that, but now things have changed. They asked to be the other tribute for District 8, and now standing in front of them and looking into their eyes, all I can see is a predator looking at its prey. They are going to kill me, and they're going to enjoy it.

♧ Aurel is always the opposite gender of Mc ♧

Romance Route: Enemies to Lovers, Doomed Love, potential unrequited love, perhaps unrequited but actually requited love😏

Asher "Ash" Fairchild ♡ The Childhood Bestfriend ♡ 16

Ash was the first and only real friend I've had my entire life. They were practically the embodiment of everything good in the world. Everyone loved Ash, and when they had their name called for the 23rd reaping the shock and sorrow was felt throughout the entire District. Even walking up to the stage, they moved like a petal dancing through the wind. Their memory has haunted me every day for the past two years, and now I get to experience the same terror they felt in their final moments.

♡ There will be an option to be in a relationship with Ash before their games. Ash is also gender selectable by the player ♡

Romance Route: First love, childhood friends to lovers, soulmates

Soren Vesper ◇ The Mayor ◇ 46

The mayor of District 8, and my Father. A very stern man who prefers things to be done his way. I've never seen his mask of the harsh mayor who does everything the Capitol request ever break, that is until the announcement of the Quarter Quell. The change happened so fast that it scared me. A once mighty man who didn't care about the people of his district now begging them to choose anyone but his child to go into the games. At least I get to know my Father does care for me before I die.

Tribute and Other Profiles TBA

☆This is my second IF my main one is @shadowsofthegun-if if anyone is interested in being a goofy little cowboy and i have another IF @dustandshadows-if set in the world of the shadowhunter chronicles if anyone is interested in that as well. @konosadmaru is also my main if anyone wants to follow me on there☆

[shizukateal]

Hey, I want to ask you something because I'm in somewhat of an impasse. It's about magical girl fashion. To start at the beginning, I'm planning to design magical girl costumes/clothing for characters from a piece of media. My main struggle is, how to make the costumes visibly a magical form while also retaining its practicality. These characters move around a lot during battle and in general, and even the ones who use ranged weaponry do get to have their one-on-one fight occasionally when fighting enemies. So how do I design a magical girl costume, without sacrificing personality and 'fanciness', so to speak...while also being practical so that there'd be few things for an enemy to potentially grab or things to get stuck somewhere?

The key is always verisimilitude in movement and weight. You don't have to be perfectly grounded in what's practical for the form of combat your character takes, you just have to make something that seems like it at least wouldn't get in their way and which compliments them stylistically.

For a concrete exercise recommendation I give you this: draw your characters in different action poses, with as much range of motion as their fighting style allows. Put the clothes and hair on them. Now, if you find an element in the design that seems to be impractical, ask yourself before deleting it "how much and how consistently can I cheat the physics of this element to make it work with this fighting style?".

Take Batman's cape for example. In real life that would be impractical as all hell (Edna Mode's rant and all), especially since Batman primarily uses martial arts, but the illustrators and animators "cheat" by making it flow in a way that doesn't get in the way of him throwing punches and kicks. If Batman is fighting mano a mano the cape stays neatly behind his back and only the bottom moves a bit without ever turning front. Enemies conveniently avoid grabbing him by it and on the off chance they go for that option then he'll overpower them and use their grip against them. If he's dodging or stalking then suddenly the material is more floaty or almost liquid. If he does a big dramatic jump then the cape will perfectly retain its wing shape mid air for as long as it's needed to really imprint the fact that yes, indeed, he does look like a bat. What's important is that you're never really asking yourself how much Batman's cape weights, even if you understand that it's not realistic. You know that the cape will be more stiff around his torso and shoulders and more loose at the bottom, you get how those differences interact to make the whole, and you also get that sometimes the whole will become a bit stiffer if it's for the sake of maintaining a cool pose. So as long as the cape moves consistently with that in mind no one will give a fuck that it doesn't snag on everything around it.

However, this also means that there's a limit to how acrobatically Batman moves, unlike the robins, because there are only so many ways you can stylize that movement before you break the verisimilitude of the physics involved. Can Batman do a cartwheel with a cape that moves like that? Yeah, sometimes, but to keep the stylization consistent the cape would need to move so slow that it would strain suspension of disbelief for him to do so all the time instead of dodging normally.

That's the "problem" (quotes because it is a matter of personal taste) I have with most modern Precure outfits. Good or bad, the dresses are so charged and the hairstyles so big that the animators can't really move those elements in a way that compliments their fighting style of big jumps, punches and kicks. You try to pose them for a generic jab and you have to contend with both their massive skirts not getting in the way of their stance and their hair not whipping around in a way that would unbalance them, and the result ends up feeling way too artificial because everything has to remain unnaturally frozen in place for it to work. Oops!

But ok, those are practical concerns, what about choosing the stylization itself? Well, movement can still help us a lot on that area.

Let me be predictable as I turn your eyes towards the Holy Quintet once more. First let's focus on Sayaka Miki, who also has an overdramatic cape.

As we can see in this gif above, Sayaka's cape is constantly flaming, not only in the sense of how it moves but in the shape it most consistently retains, always coming from the focalized point of her neck. This loose application of physics makes it move wherever it would help her silhouette look more impactful aided by the short hair not presenting the usual competition that would be present on other magical girls (looking at you Cure Sky), although of course it can stay still and quietly cascading when it's stylish. But even beyond that the movement of the cape matches a consistent motif in how Sayaka moves within her fighting style and what that means in the context of her aesthetic. If you rewatch the show or most of her transformation sequences you'll notice that Sayaka tends to swoop into to or dive into the action. Of the Holy Quintet she's the one who seems to run the fastest and usually in a straight line, because that's what she is: heroic and straightforward.

Now let's make a broader comparison with the 5 members of the team.

Naoko Yamada from Kyoto Animation fame has said that you can tell a lot about a girl from her legs and in this case she's right. Starting from the left, Kyoko has thigh-highs and pirate boots that cinch below the knee, and along her skirt her legs are framed by her long-coat. Her weapon is a spear, a weapon that requires a stance that must be solid but still quick enough to shift, so the weight of her outfit is focused downwards while her shoulders are exposed for mobility but her arms and especially her wrists are protected, and her big ponytail balances the whole thing. Sayaka runs fast and she sword fights, so she's covered in most of the same areas as Kyoko since she needs a similar balance of stance and mobility, but the weight is put more around her torso so she can run more freely and the cape frames her arms instead of her legs, because her sword serves mostly to slash and so her arms will move more stiffly than Kyoko's. It's another genius way to show they're foils.

Mami has very long, stylish guns and uses her ribbons as vines to move around. Stance also matters in her case, but not in the same way as the previous two. She doesn't need to keep standing on her feet, she needs to move around more freely and even crouch or kneel at times, so her boots are very form-fitting, but there's still some ease and looseness with her absolute territory. And since pointing a gun requires a stable grip and quick reflexes on the fingers her arms are heavier and her gloves are finger-less. But beyond all of those practical concerns you'll notice that she's very very fond of twirling around, whether standing on the ground or in mid-jump, so it's important to her that her skirt has that furls and unfurls like a blossoming flower.

Homura's legs are very highlighted. Unlike Mami who jumps around in her loose skirt doing somersaults an adds unnecessary frills to her movements Homura is efficient. Precise. Practically a rectangle. Her stocking-boots protect her whole legs and keep them compressed and strong without sacrificing much mobility were it not for her very high and thin stilettos. There's a limit to how quick she can run in those things before making her run cycle look kinda stupid, so instead her focus is to do as much as she can with the least amount of movements possible. She elegantly falls feet-first and poses into action, her hair moving most of all in a similar manner to Sayaka's cape. When she's Moemura, however, her braids flop clumsily like oversized ears on a puppy. She'll look good with a big gun like Mami since her silhouette is so subdued, but since her specialty are bombs and short guns her uniform calls more attention to her hands.

And last but not least we have Madoka. Constantly perched on her rounded tippy-toes due to her high heels, with bunched up shoulders and dainty gloves that call attention to her wrists. Her outfit is designed to highlight her Girly Run. Kyoko flails her arms, Sayaka dives, Mami twirls, Homura glides and Madoka bounces around, hence her buoyant tutu. But she's also an archer. Now, would a real archer wear those dainty, frilly, white tea-time gloves? Haha, no. But that doesn't change the fact that gloves are a useful thing for an archer to wear. It's credible enough and it fits her style, so why not add it?

Please note however that I'm not saying the Holy Quintet's outfits are the only way to handle their respective fighting and movement styles. Rather, I'm trying to teach you how the elements they use compliment them so you can analyze what you want to achieve and start looking for solutions from there. Here, let's make a comparison between characters with the same core idea and what the subtle differences in their executions tell us about them.

Now, why would two catgirl magical girls both wear round-toed, tight boots that highlight their knees? Well, because cat's hind legs are one big feet up to the knee is why. And if you're gonna stand in all fours then might as well add some gloves for protection. Then add a puffy skirt for bounce and dessert theming and voilá, jumpy acrobatic cat. If anything, however, I'd say Mew Ichigo's fit is better movility-wise, because her bob is lighter and less obstructive, her skirt and boots allow for more range of motion, and her gloves look thicker and more resistant. But both work well for their purposes, it's just that Ichigo is built more around the agility of a cat and Macaron around its elegance.

Then we have Cat Noir, who has 3 ways of moving: his acrobatics -similar to Ichigo-, his bo-staff, and his cataclysm. Notice that his joints stick out from his otherwise form-fitting literal catsuit. This is because he puts even more of his weight into those than the previous two. Ichigo mostly jumps catlike with her legs straight, but Chat crouches and stalks and climbs and slashes with his claws, and sometimes I think he even uses his bo-staff to fence like a rapier. He may be the most practical out of the 3, but on the other hand notice that his feet seem the heaviest both because of how highlighted they are and because the boots seem steel-toed. Chat can contort into positions the other two won't, but he'll likely do less somersault twirls than them because it feels like his feet are too heavy for that. If his tail belt was more alive like an actual tail, however, we might have a different story, because that would provide a counterbalance to the heaviness of the shoes and it could move in a similar way to a skirt.

One last example and I'll be over.

So, I watched The Mandalorian (pirated so that Disney can't legally kill my spouse), and at the end of the first season they give the main character a jet pack. Now, it's important to this character that he wears a long cape because he's brooding and questant and mysterious but with a strict code of conduct and so his pastiche of archetypes includes looking like a crusader knight. So you'd think that getting a jetpack would make him ditch the cape since it's a fire hazard, but no, not quite. Instead he simply gathers it over one of his shoulders, and since the flame of the jetpack is small, so long as the end of the cape doesn't move around to wildly you barely notice that it's there at all. Is it improbable that the whole thing doesn't catch fire? Absolutely. Does it work anyways? Yes!

In conclusion? Find ways to cheat physics. But find them! Don't just stare at your first draft expecting it to do the work for you!

[propenseverbosity]

Warm, Safe [Rook/Spite] (WIP)

I won't get into my thoughts about the Rook and Spite dynamic because they are extensive and I don't feel like arguing with people on the internet about it, but I got the idea of my Rook cuddling with Spite and it would not leave my brain until I wrote it down so here you go. ^_^

Rating: G

Word Count: 456

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He opens his eyes to find that he cannot move. A warm weight presses against his body, but he isn’t trapped. Not like before.

Smells of fresh linens, and Savar.

Her head rests on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his middle. Unconscious, but not injured. Breathing slow and steady against his chest.

Despite being unable to stand, his arms are free. Some of her hair is covering her eyes. He reaches to move it behind a pointed ear, the way he’s seen Lucanis do it. (How else would she be able to see their enemies?)

She hums in acknowledgement as she stirs.

“Lucanis?” she asks. She’s learned to ask, knowing the answer might change.

“No.” he replies, with Lucanis’s voice.

It takes her a moment to process his response. She shifts atop him, and raises her head to look at him properly. “...Spite?”

He struggles to force words through his host’s mouth, but it’s gotten easier the more Lucanis grows to trust him. “What. Are you. Doing?” he asks her.

“Just sleeping.” Savar tells him. “We have some time, before we head back out again.”

“On. Us?” he clarifies. She trusts them, but she’s never been so close when Lucanis wasn’t in control.

“Yeah.” She remains perfectly still, as if moving might startle him.

“Why?” He’s learned to ask questions too. Rook always listens.

“Lucanis and I like taking naps together sometimes. It’s nice. Comfortable.”

He isn’t entirely sure why, but it is nice. Savar is warm, her clothes soft under his fingertips. Covering them like a blanket, while also keeping them safe. Lucanis would know if they weren’t safe like this. His heart didn't race, his muscles loose. The pleasant warmth of her form draped across him seems to keep his body relaxed, and his mind in the Fade.

“I can move- If you want to get up.” she adds. Her words are hesitant, almost afraid, but he isn't sure why.

He considers the offer. Normally when given control, he liked to explore their new home, but he and Lucanis had made a deal about letting his body rest.

“No. Lucanis. Wants this.”

Savar smiles, relieved by his answer. “Alright then. Are you still comfortable like this? Did you want to switch?”

“How?”

Her smile only grows. She leans heavily against his chest to stand. “C’mere.” she says, offering her hand.

She guides him to move until they’ve swapped places, with Savar against the cushions, and Spite laying atop her. One of her hands glides through his hair, gently smoothing it back.

“Better?” she asks. 

From his new spot, he can react quickly to any approaching threats, while still enjoying the warmth of her arms around him. He soon understands why this makes Lucanis happy. 

“Yes.”

[chimeraboy-girlcock]

i need to revise the existing part of my horny game to make sure the horniness suffuses all aspects of it

I'm holding back too much for what is already going to be a game for perverts

needs more nudity, more embarrassment, more characters getting horny . . .

even the "fight someone" or "look around" type moves should have horny options, you know?

although tbf I did already phrase what I think is a reasonably generic "take something from them" option for fighting as "strip them of something", which is to say the same idea but ABSOLUTELY encouraging you to have that thing be their clothes

also the fact that the literal "sexual harassment" move inflicts conditions, which I should be very clear does work on enemies and so yes, is viable to do in combat

(also i should make all the conditions hornier, I already have a "flustered" one that's literally "too horny to think straight", but I can make the other ones hornier too!!!)

the only funny thing is I can't quite just say "more sex" because the characters getting into sexual situations and getting horny over them is all well and good, but "actually having straightforward, consensual sex with someone you like without some bullshit interrupting you is difficult" is kind of a core concept, because that remains funny to me

(now, is it more important that I, say, break through my writers block on getting at least one playbook done so I have a proper template there, or doing any of the GM stuff so I can run a test game with other perverts? maybe. however.)

[doodlegirl1998]

This is pretty much my reaction to the BNHA 430 leaks.

Following that, I don't actually hate the idea of Izuku becoming a teacher to inspire the next generation but the way Hori and the other writers go about it is poorly executed (what a SHOCKER, am I right?). It feels so forced to make Izuku all sad and lonely that he can't be a hero anymore. But like...there are examples of characters who either have weak Quirks or Quirks they can't rely heavily on and they can fight.

Aizawa-This discount version Kakashi and Kalego (from Iruma) can fight off villains and Nomus with his magic scarf even when he can't erase their Quirks.

Little Aizawa Jr. (aka: Shinso)-The only student that Aizawa took the effort to train properly because we all know Shinso before that, he relied heavily on his Quirk. After a few months, he can use the magic cloth just like Aizawa.

Stain-Yeah, he's technically a villain but the point still stands due to his reputation of killing several Pro Heroes. His Quirk allows him to temporarily paralyze enemies by licking their blood but you know, you gotta be able to fight to even do that.

Himiko Toga-Another villain but still worth mentioning, this discount Mystique can only transform into a person physically by drinking their blood (only able to copy the Quirks of those she has a strong connection with) but she is shown to be good at knife combat, being able to beat a Pro Hero (though we don't know how strong Rock Lock really is).

There's probably more but the biggest one I'd like to mention is known other than Knuckleduster. He is literally in the same position as Izuku (having lost his Quirk) but he still remains a hero despite this, his sense of justice not wavering. Heck, KD is basically what Izuku should've been, both in the beginning and in this epilogue (just not as violent and tactical).

Just imagine seeing adult Izuku (an ACTUAL adult-looking Izuku) in class teaching his students and encouraging Dai and after the day is done, we see him in a new costume fighting some petty criminals off the streets. He then monologues (INTROSPECTIVE, a word the writers kinda forgot about for Izuku), saying that despite losing his Quirk, his drive to help people has not gone. He's continued to work out, gaining about 5-12% Full Cowl levels of strength as well as support gear from Mei (honestly, I'd rather see these two together over Ochako. Or even Melissa. They would have Izuku's back far more than his classmates).

Hi @ultimateemerl 👋

That was my reaction to the final chapter too.

Also I agree, I would have loved to have seen Izuku as a Knuckleduster-esque hero (using support gear from Mei and Melissa' support Industries) doing teaching alongside this to show that even after losing OFA, he can be a hero.

Having Izuku waiting on All Might (and Bakugou 🤢) to save the day with the Iron Izuku suit felt OOC and forced. At the beginning of MHA, Izuku would have found a way to act as a hero himself rather than wait on outside help.

Speaking of that, how and why did none of Class 1A act to help Izuku during this time? Especially when Momo, Iida, and Shoto have the funds to do so, and Momo has her creation quirk?

How did Izuku seriously get left in the dust for six years by his classmates and friends (aside from the odd text) because they're "so busy" when now there's a bloating of heroes and a decrease in villains? I sense some fake friends who left Izuku in the dust as soon as he could be of no further use to them.

So yes, I would also prefer to see Izuku working with Mei and Melissa over Class 1A as a collective at this point.

[atrueneutral]

I had an idea for a cute scenario for Raphael x Tav involving Scratch and the baby owlbear. Now, Raphael probably wouldn't be a fan of the two, but Tav either comes with the fur-babies or not at all. However, one day Raphael (and, to a lesser degree, Tav) are tricked into a trap by other fiends - maybe implying a desire to negotiate with Raphael - where Raphael ends up being drawn away and separated from Tav while other fiends/warlocks ambush his little mouse, either to kill or maybe use as a hostage, (a 'If you're here, Raphael, then who is watching out for your little mouse?' kind of situation) and the only reason the scheme fails is because Scratch and the owlbear intervene to fearlessly protect Tav until Raphael arrived and could help Tav put the attackers in their place.

Judging by their protective body language and their overall wariness of their surroundings, the owlbear cub and the mongrel didn’t trust the devil Mez’gal.

They were smart creatures, at times, but they were also filthy, malodorous, and an unfortunate, bothersome consequence of his… partnership with Tav.

“I was summoned to hear you grovel, and yet I hear none,” Raphael said with a sneer and a gesture to the pit fiend.

Mez’gal had ‘surrendered’ to his little mouse as soon as she and her four-legged hunting party had found him outside a village, and she aptly called a mortal appearing Archdevil Supreme to hear the fiend's final pleas.

“Might we conduct business within your House of Hope, my lord?” Mez’gal proposed. His large fiendish body bowed - a sign of desperate submission.

“I’d sooner let that dog step foot in my House than you, but, seeing as how eliminating you here would only send you back to the hells, and I desire to end you completely...”

Raphael looked back to Tav. She gave him a nod and a small smile, and he raised his hand in preparation to snap. 

It was at the last second, just as friction was applied to thumb and middle finger, that he caught a malevolent glimmer in Mez’gal’s infernal eyes.

Snap!

They materialized in the entrance hall, and Raphael shed his mortal visage.

“Grovel,” the Archdevil Supreme demanded.

Mez’gal smirked.

“I was under contract, my lord,” he spat. “And by bringing me here, I’ve just fulfilled it.”

“By bringing you here… I’ve guaranteed your death.”

Mez’gal's face turned mocking as his arms opened wide. “I’ll be a martyr - by the time you kill me, your little pet will be dead from the ambush.”

Rage boiled, spilling over, and Raphael ascended - to rip and bite and tear the pit fiend asunder as quickly as possible.

—

When he reappeared, no longer ascended, there was nothing but the scent of bloodshed; the bodies of three warlocks were scattered about with gashes in their clothes, bite marks in their skin, and arrows embedded in limbs.

The two remaining enemies were busy throwing panicked spells at the filthy, malodorous animals coming for them.

Snap!

Snap!

Hellfire consumed the warlocks - their screams deafening as they instantly fell to the ground.

The two creatures watched, growling and posed defensively as they waited for the last breaths to leave the warlocks. When death came, smelling of burnt flesh and blood, Tav went over to the cub and mongrel. Raphael was somewhat irritated to see how non-plussed she appeared - as if attempts on her life were an amusing everyday occurrence.

And she was ignoring their true savior!

“My two good boys, yes, you are!” she said, giving them pets and scritches that delighted the animals greatly. Tav then leaned her ear towards the mongrel’s head. “What’s that, Scratch? Why, yes! I do think Raphael owes you both a ‘thank you’!”

Raphael’s irritation increased; he knew she could not speak to animals.

She was grinning at him, and he was weak for loving her smile so.

“Thank you,” he bit out.

Tav grabbed the mogrel’s muzzle , and the mongrel allowed her to move his jaw as one would a puppet.

“Rawrrororor,” went the mongrel.

“You’re most welcome, Saer Raphael,” said Tav as the mongrel.

Yes, filthy, malodorous, and sometimes helpful creatures they were.

[salty-croissants]

can you make some headcanons and/or imagine of rayman/ramon with an adoptive human! sister s/o (who used to be from another dimension before moving away to cl world dimension somewhere which is an unaffected good nation that didn't got ruined when she was a kid with her family (her mom, younger biological sister, and one of her female cousins), her pets, and her bunch of friends) after the last episode from season 1 (few moments after killing the broad directors), getting an heart warming reunion before successfuly escaping go get bullfrog out and then flee to the hideout where she shares with her bunch of dear friends who also joined the rebellion ;

like she finally got the accurate precious information about where her brother (rayman/ramon) is, after dolph called her in her smartphone and told y/n where he is and where he is heading to because he also got the information about the heck her bro went through thanks to the virtual realm thing and stuff and he needs to share this information and he also told that after reuniting with her adoptive brother she and him must go get bullfrog, quickly explains his situation and to her end the call before her smartphone may end up getting infected with virus before fighting the bad guys,

so after hearing this she turns off her phone (thankfull didn't got infected), grabbed her weapons, gas mask (modified to look like a bunny rabbit, with the addion of other tech gadgets like walkie talkie like features, night vision, and extra protection, an gas mask she and some of her friends made for him (with the same features from the inside but in the outside made to look like an fox) ((yes all of her friends and pets/familiars are wearing gas masks like this for good reasons)); after she killed all of the other bad guys in the building she comes to where ramon/raymon is laying on the table and before he could do anything, she pulls down her hoodie and shows her face and ray/ramon reconizes her.

((it's based on the concept of my cl timeline self-insert, look at the concept to you have an idea and even use some stuff as reference, in the messages; sorry if it got long))

Thank you for the request !

I really hope I got everything right , there was quite a lot of information to keep track of with this one ;C;👍

This is also my first ever more platonic request , which is pretty neat ! :D

Details : use of female reader ; 

reader is Rayman’s adoptive sister ; 

presence of mild swearing and blood 

< … did you get all that , y/n ? 

You better , cause I don’t have much time left to explain . > 

< Yeah yeah , I got it ! 

It’s just … I can’t believe I’m actually going to see him again … > 

< Stop . I need you to focus now .

You grab your brother , free Bullfrog and get the hell out of there immediately .

I won’t be able to be there with these assholes in the way , so you’re on your own from now … 

I’ll see you when this is all ov - > 

With that abrupt end to Dolph’s call , you remained completely alone 

You took a deep breath , your heart pounding in your chest as you walked forward in the corridor , leaving behind the bodies of the Eden security guards that were unfortunate enough to cross you .

It hadn’t been easy to get that far into the building the Board of Directors used as their headquarters , the many bruises that had cut through your clothes and gas mask were proof of that … 

However , it was all going to be worth it to be reunited with your long lost brother .

How many years had it been since you last got to talk to Rayman before they took him from you ? 

Four ? 

No , maybe even five …

The only way you could see him was when his show aired on tv , and while you were happy to see that he seemed to be alright , the fact that he had become the face of the very thing you and your friends were fighting so hard against broke your heart …

Did that mean that you were enemies now ? 

Was he even going to be happy to see you , or remember who you were … ? 

You shook your head , trying to keep those awful thoughts from tormenting your mind .

Even if Rayman were to regard you as a “terrorist” , you weren’t going to let the Directors or anyone else hurt him , and that was all that mattered .

It only took a few more steps to reach the door that lead to the Director’s room , the place where Rayman was supposed to be in from what Dolph had told you before the beginning of that mission , and when you finally found the courage to open it you found yourself staring at a rather grim sight : 

the all powerful Directors , the ones who had everyone’s lives in the palm of their hands for years , were all laying dead on the table and the floor , their blood painting the otherwise pristine room in a bright crimson , and …

Hang on , was there someone else laying down on that table ?

Could it really be … ? 

< Ray ? > 

As soon as he heard your voice , he immediately jolted up , his breathing heavy as he reached for his guns .

< Who … who the hell are you ? Don’t come any closer ! > 

You sounded strangely familiar to the now ex Eden star … but he knew that it wouldn’t be possible for that very special person to be there . 

It just … it couldn’t be . 

Your eyes widened when you took a better look at your brother : 

he looked so … different …

You had never seen that spark of fury in his eyes , and that was without mentioning his appearance .

Before things could escalate for the worst , you grabbed the mask you were wearing with shaky hands , slowly removing it and revealing your face .

A moment of shocked silence followed , before he jumped down from the table , his eyes never leaving yours as he approached … 

< y/n … ? > 

, he whispered , almost like he was afraid to even speak .

< Oh Ray , I missed you so much ! > 

When you leaned forward to hug him , giving him confirmation that you were actually real and not just a part of his imagination , it was the moment that he finally snapped :

He clutched you tightly , the weight of everything that he had been through that day mixing with the relief of having found you again , after years of not being able to even know if you were okay .

You could hear him sob next to your shoulder …

< I can’t believe … I can’t believe that it’s you , y/n … all this time , I thought … I thought  I’d never see you again … > 

After a few more minutes of much needed crying , the two of you finally pulled away from each other , so happy about being back together that you almost forgot the gravity of your current situation . 

< But … how did you get here ? > 

< It’s kind of a long story , but to cut it short I’ve been working against Eden with a few others , and when Dolph told me you were here I had to come Ray … I had to make sure you were okay . > 

You could see your brother trying to process everything he was hearing , that you were allies with Dolph Laserhawk one of the people he had considered a terrorist just a few days prior … but he visibly flinched a little as you mentioned his old name .

< I see , well it’s thanks to him if we got to reunite then … heh , today’s been one hell of a crazy day .

Though … I gotta ask you to call me Ramon now . 

I don’t wanna go by my old name anymore … reminds me of all the damage I’ve caused and the lies these bastards made me spread . > 

You nodded in response , your gaze softening as you wondered just how awful he probably felt when finding the truth about Eden …

It must’ve been a real hard time for him , which reminded you of the other reason you were there on that mission . 

< Okay , look … I know you’ve already been through a lot today , but I need to set Bullfrog free before they execute him , and I … can’t do it alone . > 

Before you could finish your sentence , Ramon had already begun to pick up his guns from were he left them without hesitation …

< I got your back y/n .

Bullfrog is the reason why I know what Eden has done … I gotta repay the favor . > 

When the both of you walked out of the room , ready for your rescue mission , you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with joy at the thought of having your brother by your side :

this time , nothing was going to take him away from you … you would’ve made sure of that . 

[collapse-and-comfort]

🤕✨🤕 The prodigal blogger returns! May I present a two-in-one prompt fill for @lurkingwhump. Caretaker finds Whumpee in a warehouse -> Whumpee wakes up in the hospital and is comforted by Caretaker -> Whumpee wakes up in a panic and there is more comfort! I hope you enjoy! 🤕✨🤕

Taylor skidded to a halt by Hatcher’s body and sank to their knees beside them on the filthy concrete floor in a far corner of the warehouse.

They’redeadThey’redeadThey’redead. And it’s all my fault.

Nothing in Taylor allowed for the possibility that Hatcher was still alive, that they weren’t too late, that the weeks of searching for Hatcher, and hoping and fighting hadn’t been for nothing. This was the eventuality Taylor had prepared themself for since Hatcher hadn’t returned from their last mission. Taylor knew that the person responsible for this would not have left Hatcher alive. No, this was a final sick jest, leaving Hatcher’s body among the debris of an abandoned warehouse among rusted, defunct machinery. 

What did you think was going to happen?

They were not fast enough, they weren’t strong enough, and this was the price. It was of no consolation to Taylor that their enemy didn’t live to see the dividends of that abuse.

I’m so sorry, Taylor thought as they reached out and touched Hatcher’s shoulder. I’m so goddamn sorry.

But there was feverish, living heat beneath Taylor’s palm instead of cold rigor. 

“Hatcher?!”

Hatcher flinched and wheezed. They tried to curl away from Taylor, but that small effort was too much; they groaned and went still. Hatcher’s right eye was only open a slit, but it tracked Taylor hazily. Their left eye was completely swollen shut. 

“It’s okay, Hatcher! It’s me! I’m here. I’m here. I’m gonna get you outta here.” Taylor was aware they were a hair’s breadth from blathering like an idiot, but it was better than breaking down amidst apologies for everything that Hatcher had endured. 

Hatcher’s left leg was bent at a grotesque angle. Bruises in various stages of healing littered their exposed flesh and their hair was bloody and matted. Taylor didn’t dwell on what other injuries might be lurking under Hatcher’s filthy, tattered clothing. Yes, being action-oriented was preferable, and if Hatcher was in any state to do so, they’d agree. 

“I’m gonna get you home, Hatch.”

Hatcher whimpered and their body went lax again.

The dank, earthen air was also saturated with the sharp scents of fear and pain. Taylor drew in a deep breath of that air, gripped their radio hard, and found command of their voice again.

“I need medics at my location! NOW!”

—

Everything was off. Not quite real. Hatcher was unsure if they were floating or weighted down with unseen lead. One of their eyes was open, but they couldn’t recall opening it in the first place. The light was dim, and they were lost, as though their mind, body, and senses were scattered across an eternal twilight. They could hear things, but the sounds had no particular meaning. 

They groaned; they were only vaguely aware the sound came from them. 

An intake of breath came from their left, then something like a pleasingly manic chuckle. 

“How are you even awake?” asked a familiar voice. Care, affection. Safety. Something creaked, and then there were footsteps. Hatcher opened their mouth to say something, but the jumble of feelings remained stuck in their throat, and they were left with a gormless expression on their face and the feeling that their body was, indeed, weighted down with lead and their head was stuffed with cotton.

Taylor’s features, exhausted but full of warmth, swam into their limited view.

“Hey,” they said. 

Hatcher blinked at Taylor and tried to reply, but their words must have evaporated in their horrifically dry mouth. Their right eye didn’t have the same problem, though. The prickle of tears stung there. The surprise of the sensation - why should they be so emotional, so confused? - made them blink. They swallowed hard and tried to speak again. They weren’t lucid enough to be embarrassed by the choked noise that escaped them, or to be overly concerned with the fact they couldn’t see out of their left eye. Their already limited vision swam and their head spun.

“Shh,” Taylor said, their voice barely straining the bounds of a whisper. “It’s alright. You’re alright.”

Hatcher was unspeakably grateful for the warm weight of Taylor’s palm on their shoulder and the brush of their fingertips on their forehead. It kept them from breaking apart and spiraling away.

“I’m not sure how you’re awake, Hatch, but you really, really don’t have to be.”

Hatcher tried to answer - at least they thought they did - but they closed their eyes as Taylor’s fingers brushed over their forehead. Something felt off, but Taylor was there, so what could be wrong? The realization that their hair was gone trickled in, but their muscles were relaxing, their breathing was deepening and they couldn’t bring themself to care. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Taylor said as they patted Hatcher’s shoulder. “Get some rest, now.”

Hatcher began to argue - force of habit, they supposed - before being tugged mercifully beneath a tide of distant pain and chemical interference. 

—

The outdated Fish and Game magazine in Taylor’s lap was of no particular interest to them. They attempted to read the same paragraph for a fourth time before folding it shut and setting it aside. Rain pattered lightly against the window, a gentle reminder the world outside still existed. Taylor rubbed their eyes with their fingertips until they saw stars and shifted in their bordering-on-uncomfortable seat. They stifled a jaw-cracking yawn when they heard the tiniest hitch in Hatcher’s breath. 

Then came a whimper that jolted energy through Taylor. They stood and walked over to Hatcher’s bed and in the few steps it took them to get there, Hatcher was looking at them - or perhaps beyond them - in wide-eyed terror. 

Hatcher was gasping for air as the heart monitor's pace accelerated.

A month of searching for Hatcher. A month of planning and stopping and starting and running into dead ends, then starting over again. Taylor had thought it was going to tip them and the rest of the team over into madness, but they had recovered Hatcher, in body at least. Hatch would have to reunite with themself, but until they could do that, Taylor would happily mediate. To that end, they took decisive, loving action.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Taylor said as they gently caught both of Hatcher’s flailing hands, the casualties of which would surely have been their IV, nasal cannula, bandages, and incisions. “That is a bad idea. Even by your standards.”

Hatcher groaned as they fought weakly against Taylor, their eyes dim and unfocused; their unbroken leg shifted beneath the sheets.

It rained a little harder outside.

“Shh, Hatch. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

“Nuh-no,” Hatcher rasped as they tried to roll toward the door. “Stay ‘way.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You…you don’t have to fight anymore, Hatch, you don’t. You’re safe.” Taylor kept their voice low, as though they risked alerting an enemy. They knew that at worst, they’d disrupt another patient, or interupt a night nurse from their other duties, but the quiet seemed kinder, felt necessary as they pressed Hatcher’s shoulders down. “Look at me, Hatcher. Shh, shh, can you look at me?”

Hatcher’s unbandaged eye - their poor, bruised, bloodshot eye - glistened as they shook their head. (The doctors said the other eye would, in time, heal. Same with the rest of their body, though who knew how many more surgeries that would take?)

“No,” Hatcher murmured as they scanned Taylor’s face, uncomprehending. “P-please dont. No more.”

“Shh,” Taylor interrupted quietly. They knew all too well who Hatcher thought they were talking to. And they knew that that person was no longer a problem. Whatever power vacuum was left behind could fill itself at its own convenience and their team would be there. All of them. ”I’m here, Hatch.” 

Taylor covered both of Hatcher’s hands with one of theirs and rested their other hand on Hatcher’s jawline. They moved their thumb on Hatcher’s cheek in slow, steady strokes; they didn’t allow their hand or their voice to shake as they tried to calm and comfort Hatcher. 

Hatcher drew a breath, in and in until Taylor thought Hatcher’s lungs would surely burst.

“Easy, Hatch! Easy, easy! Breathe out now, breathe out.”

Hatcher released it with shaky difficulty. They groaned and tried to pull away as they exhaled, but they pulled their next stuttering breath in with less desperation.

“That’s good, that’s right,” Taylor quietly praised as they tried to keep Hatcher still without hurting them worse. “Just breathe for me. I’m right here.”

Taylor couldn’t have said if it was from exhaustion, medication, or because they were getting through to Hatcher, but Hatcher’s breath slowly came with more ease. As the pad of Taylor’s thumb moved softly over Hatcher’s face, Hatcher’s eye widened as they looked at Taylor. Really looked at them.

“T-Tay?”

Taylor nodded solemnly and grasped one of the hands they’d been restraining.

Disbelief on Hatcher’s face followed quickly on the heels of recognition. 

“Taylor?” Hatcher asked as though they were expecting to be made the butt of a cruel joke. 

“Yeah,” Taylor said, nodding and smiling, the tightness in their chest loosened, but the lump growing in their throat grew. “Yeah, it’s me.”

Hatcher’s eye strained from corner to corner.

“Where?

“You're in the hospital. You're safe.”

Hatcher's breathing began to settle and they nodded, but they dropped their gaze and frowned deeply. 

“Probably doesn’t feel that way, huh?”

Hatcher huffed out a breath, a haggard, pitiful sound masquerading as grim humor. They shed a silvery tear and swallowed hard.

“Oh, hey,” Taylor murmured. They squeezed Hatcher’s hand and then brushed away the tear, ridding them of what they knew Hatcher would view as an indignity. They could do that small thing for them and pretend for the moment that the future didn’t hold deluges of tears. 

The sound of the heart monitor became less insistent. 

The muscle in Hatcher’s jaw tensed and something blazing and hard-headed flickered in their eyes. And Taylor knew - it was almost premonitory in its suddenness and certainty - that Hatcher was going to be okay. They would be a pain in the ass. They would reinjure themself. It would be a long goddamn haul, but Hatcher would heal. And Taylor wouldn’t leave their side.

“You are, though,” Taylor said, tracing their fingertips over Hatcher’s temple. “You’re safe.”

—-

Hatcher filled their lungs then exhaled. It steadied them, though they felt disconnected from the action. They weren’t used to breathing without pain anymore. Their heart wasn’t lodged so firmly in their throat now and the nightmare that chased them out of their drugged slumber was now being kept at bay by the brush of Taylor’s fingers. 

The muscles in Hatcher’s neck were beginning to relax and their head sunk back onto the pillow. They watched Taylor above them. It was far better than taking inventory of their body - or what was left of it. Taylor’s face was as kind as always, but there was a harried tension in their eyes and at the corner of their mouth that Hatcher could recall seeing only rarely. Through their disorientation and the drugs coursing through their system, a thought cut through that made Hatcher wish they had the strength to wrap Taylor into a hug.

Please, they pleaded in their mind. Please don’t blame yourself for this. I made my choices. Nothing to be done about it now.

“Do you need anything?” Taylor asked.

Don’t leave me, Hatcher though as their eye slipped shut and they made a noise in the back of their throat that they felt constituted a “no.” 

Taylor’s palm moved placidly in a pattern over their heart.

" 'kay," Taylor said.

“Hair?” Hatcher inquired.

“It had to go,” Taylor lamented. The sadness in their smile was there and gone, though Hatcher wasn’t the wiser. “But bald is a good look on you.”

Hatcher was dimly aware of a smile on their face as they drifted.

"Get some sleep, Hatch."

[rhapsodynew]

#classic rock news📌

Pink Floyd

Pink Floyd sold the rights to the music catalog of their songs. The deal with Sony amounted to $400 million.

The deal includes the rights to the band's name and portraits of its members, which allows Sony to sell related products (clothing, souvenirs, etc.), as well as produce films and television programs. And, of course, the rights to publish music in various formats. The copyright remained with the musicians.

This deal became another in the list of high-profile purchases of Sony Music that have already taken place, in the summer of 2024, it managed to acquire the rights to the Queen group's music catalog for $ 1.27 billion.

James Blunt

British pop-rock artist James Blunt promised on his social networks that he would change his name if the anniversary reissue of his first album Back to Bedlam (2004) again took first place in the British charts. According to the musician, fans will be able to choose a new name for him.

In 2005, 2.4 million copies of Blunt's debut album were sold. In 2009, their number reached 3 million, which made the longplay the best-selling in Britain in the 2000s. The release includes hits such as You're Beautiful and Goodbye My Lover.

Back to Bedlam will be re-released on October 11.

Tom Hamilton

Life after Aerosmith continues.

Aerosmith bassist Tom Hamilton said on social media that his new band Close Enemies will give their first concert on October 11 in Nashville. The band also includes drummer Tony Brock, vocalist Chasen Hampton, guitarists Peter Stroud and Trace Foster.

In his post, Hamilton wrote:

"Hi, I need to tell you something about a band called Close Enemies that I play in. We have a bunch of good songs recorded. We are going to release one of them very soon. Meanwhile, on October 11, we are performing in Nashville at an institution called the Eastside Bowl. Please come!"

Later, the bassist also added that the band rehearses a lot: "The songs sound amazing."

A book about Bon Jovi will be released for the band's 40th anniversary.

Genesis Publications and Bon Jovi have announced the book "Bon Jovi Forever". BON JOVI gave Genesis unprecedented access to their entire archive to create an exciting journey through 40 years of the band's history, during which she created 16 albums.

Jon Bon Jovi says: "I never planned what I want people to feel when listening to our songs. But when you compose, it's often the songs that are closest to you that pass the test of time and turn out to be closest to others. If the song is written from the heart, and not just 'worked out', there is a high probability that the listener will find something important in your story."

John himself and his colleagues actively participated in the work on "Bon Jovi Forever", so the publication will have the status of an official one. The exact date has not yet been announced, but it is already known that the book will be available both separately and as part of a box set, which will also include an exclusive seven-inch vinyl record.

The trailer for the documentary "Elton John: Never Too Late" has been released.

"The film follows Elton John as he looks back on his life and the amazing early days of his 50-year career on this emotionally charged, personal and inspiring journey," the synopsis says. - As he prepares for his last concert in North America, at Dodger Stadium, Elton takes us back in time to talk about the extraordinary highs and heartbreaking lows of his early years and how he overcame adversity, violence and addiction to become the icon he is today.

The documentary, directed by R. J. Cutler and David Furnish, premiered on September 6 at the Toronto Film Festival. The world premiere will take place on December 13 on Disney+.

Legendary Yes and King Crimson drummer Bill Bruford, who worked as a liaison with music for 15 years, returned to the stage as a special guest of the British jazz band Pete Roth Trio.

The band's website uses the phrase "jazz without borders". The musician is comforted that "they are creating jazz for a new worship of music that is free from the usual jazz stereotypes."

Bruford announced that he would start recording and releasing soon, on January 1, 2009. His last public concert with Earthworks took place on July 31, 2008. After retiring, Bruford earned a doctorate in music from the University of Surrey and wrote an autobiography, "Bill Bruford: The Autobiography. Yes, King Crimson, Earthworks and More”, which received many positive reviews.

With the exception of a brief participation in the Ann Bailey's Soul House cover band, Bruford's single foundation for the drum kit took place in 2023 at a concert in memory of John Wetton, who participated in the song "Let's Stick Together".

The British band The Cure

She confirmed rumors that their album "Songs Of A Lost World" will be released on November 1. The longplay will be the first for the artists since 2008.

The band also presented the first track from the release of "Alone". According to The Cure's frontman Robert Smith, the nearly seven-minute song helped him understand the focus of the entire album.

The full-length album was recorded at Rockfield Studios in Wales. The gloomy, minimalistic cover was created by a long-time colleague of the team, designer and photographer Andy Vella. The work depicts the 1975 sculpture Bagatelle by Slovenian Janez Pirnat.

Ozzy Osbourne named the most favorite song from his repertoire.

"I have a real weakness for the ballad Mama, I'm Coming Home. The lyrics were written by Lemmy — but I described to him exactly what I wanted to say in it, that is, I set the content," says Ozzy in an interview with Classic Rock. "But I'll tell you what, I don't really have a personal favorite. People always ask me which is my favorite album that I've made — and I don't have one! All my recordings reflect either the fun and chaos or the terrible circumstances that happened to me. Each of them is a reflection of me at that time."

The song "Mama, I'm Coming Home" was released as the second single from the album "No More Tears" in late November 1991. It was one of two collaborations with Lemmy on the album, the other being "Hellraiser".

In an interview with Classic Rock in 2013, Lemmy recalled how he came up with the lyrics of the song.

"I came up with this song," said the late Motörhead leader. "He sent me a text about what he would like to sing, and I think he gave me the title, but that's it. I'm good at it because that's how I write our songs — I come up with a title, and then I write a song based on it. Later, Ozzy and I were doing an interview in the same tent at this festival, and one guy asked: "The song Mama I'm Coming Home is the most personal thing you've written. Was she a big jerk to you?" And Ozzy just said, "He wrote it!"

The frontman of the British band Coldplay, Chris Martin, sang one of the new songs of the band in a karaoke bar in Las Vegas under the guise of another person.

Chris Martin took to the stage in a baggy suit, wig, glasses and with an inflatable balloon in his hand. In a local bar, the musician performed the song "All My Love". This track will be part of the band's upcoming album "Moon Music", which is scheduled for release on October 4. There will be a total of ten tracks in the longplay.

In August, Coldplay's "Music of the Spheres" tour became the highest-grossing rock tour of all time. Before that, the record belonged to Elton John.

Ringo Starr announced the cancellation of concerts in Philadelphia and New York due to his illness.

According to the artist's representative on social networks, Ringo caught a cold and the doctor advised him to rest. Starr played a total of 10 concerts before falling ill. His All-Starr Band now includes Steve Lukather, Colin Hay, Warren Ham, Hamish Stewart, Gregg Bissonnette and Buck Johnson.

We wish Ringo to get well and hit the drum again 🥁

[unicorncornflakes]

Wedding Dress - Modern AU! | Chapter 2

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Paring: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader x Aemond Targaryen.

Summary: You have always seemed happy. A perfect life: a good job, a good family… and a good boyfriend. Finally, you are going to marry Jace after three years of dating. Everything seems perfect, but you know it's not.

Everything falters the same night you meet Aemond Targaryen. You are no longer sure of your decisions… let alone about the wedding…

Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern/ Setting Enemies to Friends to Lovers/ Emotional Hurt/ComfortDrama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Author´s note: Hi everyone! English is not my first language, sorry for any mistake! All of them are my fault! Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Word Count: 4.3K

Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged, let me know): @tssf-imagines @nika-sophie05

“I wish I was there. I would love it.” You could hear Jace’s voice on the other side of the line. You had the hands-free mode of your phone on while you were in the changing room, taking your clothes off. Finally, you were going to try on the wedding dress you had always dreamed of. A perfect ball gown wedding dress. It looked like straight out of a fairy tale: a slim-cut bodice and full bell-shaped skirt that seemed to float. It was the dress, you were so confident about that.

“The groom can´t see the wedding dress before the weding. It brings bad luck” You laughed, truly enchanted. All your doubts had disappeared upon seeing the dress. Jace was the right guy. This was the perfect decision, and what had happened last weekend was history.

“I won’t ever have bad luck if you are at my side” You could heard how he was smiling while he was telling you those beautiful words. You sighed. That was pure love and devotion. Alara and Daemon were not right, you belonged to Jace… “I have to take the flight, but I will arrive for the dinner. Order what you want. We have to celebrate the new contract”

“So… we sleep together tonight? At your apartment?” You tried to sound excited. The truth is, at the time, you didn't know if you were ready to sleep with Jace and pretend nothing had happened. You were living with your grandmother since she considered that a good lady should not live with her boyfriend before getting married and also for not discussing the subject with her. After all, Jace and you haven't seen each other for a week. It was normal for him to expect you to sleep together.

“Of course” It sounded too formal for your liking. You would have liked that he had told you how much he had missed you and the things he planned to do to you. You wished that he forgot dinner, that he grabbed you in his arms and took you to his bed. His long silver hair falling like a cascade over your chest while his mouth worked wonders on one of your nipples while his other hand captured the remaining breast... his violet eye fixed on youY face, the other one covered by that annoying eye patch that prevented you saw his whole face... ethereal... eternal... “(Y/N), are you there?” Your Boyfriend´s voice woke up you from your fantasies… You were fucked… You would have to think in Jace, not in that stupid guy…

“Y-yes, I was thinking about what to order” You lied. Your eyes were reflected in the mirror in front of you. ‘This is your best that you can say?’ your voice scolded you in your mind.

“Whatever you desire” he smiled again “I have to go. I will see you later. I love you”

“I love you too” the words sounded like a dagger tearing you inside. How would you love him? You had cheated on him with a guy you couldn´t get out of your head. You heard how the phone hanged up and you just wanted to cry. You didn't sound convincing, nor did you sound happy.

“You are so fucking stunning!” Alara Exclaimed in the same moment that you entered in the room, followed by one of the workers of that place. She helped you climb the step where brides were placed on this type of occasion to be admired by the family before buying the dress. You thought that something more ridiculous could not be happening to you.

“That Language” Your grandmother scolded Alara, who was sitting by her side in a terrible pastel pink sofa of that room “You are truly enchanting, honey” Your Grandmother smiled, gazed at you. She looked so proud that she made you think that you were doing the right thing.

“You are so gorgeous, so elegant” Rhaenyra verbalized while a sweet smile was painted in her face. She looked radiant. Her older son was to married a good girl, correct, elegant, polite… She couldn’t have more happiness in her hearts and when you looked at her, your own soul bounced.

“Yes, less is often more” Alicent commented “You are truly elegant”. She was an old friend of Rhaenyra, and even the Step-Gradmother of Jace, but this was the first time that you saw her. You didn’t meet none of that part of the family, but it seemed that they were triying to rebuilt the bonds that were broken with all the wedding subject.

“I think… that I don’t like it… sorry” you sighed, looking down at the floor. Everything was wrong. You only felt sad and guilty about the entire situation, you just wanted to run away when you saw their happy faces.

“What?? No, no, no. You´ve been an incredible pain in the ass about this dress, and now you don’t like it!” Alara was simply upset, you feared that she could exploded before your words. She knew the truth. This wasn’t about the dress. She looked at you, wide opened eyes, pouting her lips. She was about to speak.

“Well, Honey, You are so gorgeous in that dress, but if you don’t like it…” Your Grandmother tried to reduce the tension; she never met Alara on that way before. So, she attempted her best.

“(Y/N), don’t you worry, we have time, you can trying as dresses as you desire” Rhaenyra told you like a mother to her daughter. Actually, she always wanted to have a girl, but it never came. For that reason, she truly appreciated you.

“My daughter Healena had to try a lot of dresses until she found wich she really liked” Alicent commented, in an effort to make you more comfortable about the situation.

“But this was the first option…” You muttered in a lower tone, like a little child. All the present, except Alara, thought that you were simply nervous.

“Well, let’s to change this terrible option for something more… appropriated!” Alara exclaimed, conducting you to the change room to find another option.

'You are going to enter, you are going to say hello like a responsible adult and you are going to say how beautiful the bride is' His mother sent him that message that made Aemond roll his eye in disgust. He was still sitting in the cafe across from the dress shop, drinking coffee and smoking. It was one thing to go pick up his mother and quite another to have to put on a theater about an event that annoyed him rather than excite him.

'No' was all the answer he sent. 'I'll wait for you outside' he sighed and looked up from the phone to see how the waitress smiled at him. He knew that smile well, it was the kind of smile a woman puts on when she wants you to take her to bed. In another time, he would have risen and approached her. That same night he would have been between her legs, but he wasn't able to. He remembered the sweet way you'd looked at him, the shy smile before you turned into his…little slut. The mobile vibrated again and he read the new message from his mother. Aemond rose angrily from his chair, forgetting his coffee and his cigar. He went to the register and paid. He entered the dress shop with a very clear determination: Jace's fiancée was going to remember this moment for the rest of her life.

“I prefer this one much more that the other!” You exclaimed happily in front of the mirror of the changing room. A new trumpet weeding dress was what now you wore. It had a tighter fit through your chest and waist, before flaring out sightly around the knees. This dress showed off your curves, and you couldn’t seem happier. Alara rolled her eyes.

“(Y/N), I know what is the fucking problem with the last dress. It was for Jace. This dress is for that guy, and in the sept is not going to be him, but Jace” She sighed tired. You gazed her, deeply sorry. Maybe, that was true.

“Alara, I have to marry him. You know that…” You started to say.

“It´s okay, just let´s finish this! I know how stubborn you can be” She replied to you, helping you to walk to the other room again.

“I said no” Your Grandmother in the same moment that you stand in front of her again with the new dress. Her face was turned angry, and you knew her well. It was like just when you asked for going on a date with a boy that she didn’t like when you were teenager.

“But I like this one!” You replied crossing your arms against your chest “This is the right one” Even if it wasn’t; now you wanted it. You were making too many sacrifices with this entire situation. You wouldn’t gave up.

“I think that she is beautiful too” Rhaenyra tried to say something positive about the dress, but you can see the discomfort in her eyes. She wasn´t imagining you with a dress like that in her mind.

Your grandmother ignored her “You are not going to walk through the Sept like a whore, (Y/N)” she shouted to you.  So you continued arguing with her. Alicent told something to Rhaenyra and your mother-in-law replied her with a smile, and she just disappearance, while you stilled discussing.

“I´m telling you that this is the dress!” Aemond heard someone hysterical girl screaming about her dress. And he who thought that trying on dresses was boring. He was on the hall of that shop, just waiting for her mother. He smirked. His mother entered in the hall.

“Aemond” she greeted him, approaching him “I think that his is not a good moment to…”

“Jace´s fiancée is the one who one can listen outside from the shop?” He asked with an ironic smile, raising an eyebrow. “I have to watch that” He muttered while he directed himself to the room that her mother just left. Yes, tonight Aegon and he were going to taunt about what he had seen. She had to be a real beast if that girl was like this for a simple dress.

“Aemond” his mother tried to stopped him, but she couldn´t.

Alara contemplated all the scene as silence as Rhaenyra. She could see how you were breaking into pieces. You were going to marry Jace, not because you thought that he was the right one, but your grandmother thought it. That was the truth. And she only could felt pity for you. So you didn’t give up about the dress. She could see how a tear fallen from your eye, and you cleaned it quickly.

“This is the dress, and if you don’t like it, I´m sorry” you told to your grandmother. However, that discussion wasn’t about the dress actually, it was hiding more in between your grandmother and you than the both of you wanted to recognize.

And in that precise moment that your grandmother was to replied, Alicent and his son were just entered in the room… Alara´s jaw dropped to the floor. She cognized that eye patch, that silver long hair and that coat… he was the guy at the bar… she just looked confused and impacted to you, and in the moment that you realized of his presence you went pale. Alara could see how your mind crashed down in the same moment that your gaze met his.

“Oh, Alicent, this is your son?” Your grandmother asked, ignoring everything that was happening between the three. “You must be a decent man, boy, just tell my grandaugther how she looks with that dress” Alicent parted his lips in a gasp, like if she knew that his son was about to say something monstrous.

Time stopped at that precise moment, as did Aemond's heart. For a moment it stopped beating. You… you were there, just right in front of him, in a wedding dress. Your gaze met his. Again a deer in the middle of the road… the pupil of his eye went dilated. You were the same girl. The girl who didn’t want his number. The girl who begged for him… And… And… his mind was a swirl of thoughts. You are gorgeous, you are stunning, you are… going to marry his not so beloved nephew, really? While his mind was running in reflections, his face didn´t show any emotion, just to the end rose one of the corners of his lips, in a sign of disdain. But, it wasn’t for you… It was just for him. He licked his lips before speak. His gaze couldn´t stop to look at you.

“A perfect future wife is everything I can see here” He smirked “Jace is a truly fortunate man” He wanted to run away from there, but he couldn’t. He was the powerful one there. He was cold, he was the strong one… So, you were his Nephew´s fiancé. What a delighted coincide.

Alicent looked at Aemond. She had given birth to him. She knew her son like the back of her hand. Those words weren’t to mean to. She could understand his disdain by the Velaryon boys, but not this time, please. Not against the poor girl. But surprisely for her, he only approached you and took your hand.

“What a silly thing!” Your grandmother exclaimed again “This is ridiculous, this is not the dress”

But Aemond ignore her. He ignored complete the words of your grandmother. He just kissed your knuckles, really softly, his eye nailed in yours. “My name is Aemond, nice to meet you” his moves were so cocky and confident, a terrible smirk in his face, a shadow of malice in his gaze. ‘Well, nice to meet you again, what a delicious surprise’ he thought ‘You thought you could escape from me?’ Like that night, he was the hunter again and you were the prey, and he was so excited about that.

“My name is (Y/N)” you replied all blushed. It was supposed that you wouldn´t meet him again, you have must dreaming.

“Sister, what a beautiful bride your son have chosen!” he sneered. He wasn't going to show weakness, he wasn't going to show it in front of his bitch of a sister. He was the one who controlled the game, the one who marked the steps... Maybe he wasn't going to make you cry that day, but you were going to remember him forever and that precise moment. He looked into your eyes. Yes, you both knew that you belonged to him, that with simple shag he had you at his feet. "Hm" he sighed with a confident smile, without letting go of your hand.

Alicent was so surprised with that courtesy act. Well, she always thought that Aemond was a truly gentleman, but she never expected that chivalry with Jace´s fiancée.

You couldn’t think, you couldn’t… you just… you just… crashed down, like one computer and the terrible blue screen. You didn’t know what to say, how to move. The guy from the bar, the guy with one you cheated on Jace, the brash bastard that made you cum so hard was… Jace´s uncle. No. It was impossible, it was a nightmare, and however, he was there, in front of you. So tall, so dark, so sexy. You looked away from him, coming back to your reality.

“This is the dress, I decided it” You told to your grandmother and releasing your hand from Aemond´s grab. He chuckled. He couldn’t believe your words. But how could you not say it? You were sleeping with Jace after all. You were his nephew's girlfriend. A woman who knew what she wanted, right? You just didn't know what you really wanted and even he didn’t realize in that moment, but Aemond Targaryen was going to show you what you needed. Aemond moved back to the back of the room, his gaze following you. He already knew your name and whose girlfriend you were and he had proposed something: Jace could take his position in the company, but he was going to keep something much more important in his life: You.

It was not going to be all for his nephews, he refused to accept so. You were what he wanted. A pang of grief stabbed him in the heart, but he quickly recovered to be himself again. He was going to get you no matter what it cost him, he was no longer that boy with those bastards messed with.

When the dress fitting finished, you felt exhausted. What just had happened? Alara approached you when you leaving the changing room. You looked at the hall. There was your grandmother speaking with Alicent, Rhaenyra and Aemond. Your gaze stopped at him. Why he was there? Why? Karma is a bitch, a fucking bitch. And why he has to smell so good? Like coffee and cigarettes, he was like the bad guy about you dreamt when you were at the high school, but you weren’t a teenager anymore… and he was Jace´s uncle… life was punishing you hard…

“Are you okay?” Alara whispered and you only nodded and approached to the group. You pretend a fake smile and you caressed your grandmother shoulder.

“I think that we should go, Nana. It´s going to be late and I have to go to Jace´s apartment” you tried to explain, but your grandmother was still talking with Alicent and Rhaenyra. By the corner of your eye, you saw how Aemond looked at you, a lustful gaze. His arms at his back, that perfect black coat… and regret again.

“We were talking about the dress, Don’t you want to hear my opinion?” she asked you, and you closed your eyes and sighed. You could hear how Aemond gave a little chuckle.

“Not again, thanks” you replied her. All the way to home was going to be like that, you knew it.

“You were truly enchanting in the last dress” Alicent tried to smile “Aemond says that you were breath-taking with it” a little shade of pink appeared  in your cheeks, and Alara realized a brief instant where you looked at Aemond like a needed puppy.

“Thank you, Alicent” You replied with a fake smile.

“(Y/N)” Rhaenyra started to speak looking at Alicent with a sweet smile “We were talking about that you have never met to this part of the family, so we are going to make a familiar lunch at my father´s house the next weekend, all together again. And we will celebrate the new contract too” she informed you.

“Yes, it will be great” you replied really fast, with a fake smile again… you were fucked…

“’I´m not going to meet him again’. Do you remember from who are these words?” Alara whispered in your ear. Alara was acting like the little angel in your shoulder. You glared at her. ‘Just shut up, Alara’ your mind screamed “Oh my god! He has to be one of the best-man at your wedding” she whispered again laughing and you slapped her shoulder, drawing attention or the rest of the presents. She was continuing laughing.

“Then we will meet next Sunday for lunch” Raenhyra replied with a smile.

“It will be delightful” Alicent replied. And you could saw how Aemond smiled, that cocky bastard.

Aemond kept his eye on the road. Alicent was talking about the lunch. She was so excited, seated in the co-pilot seat of that expensive black Mercedes. Actually, Aemond didn´t need to speak about anything in that precisely moment. He couldn’t stop of thinking about you.

“She was pretty in that dress” His mother started to speak, but he pretended he didn’t listened to her. He kept driving in silence “She is really sweet. She is so charming” Alicent continued speaking.

“Hmm” Aemond didn’t’ want to thinking more about that. He had already known how sweet you were, how special you were, how pretty you were. 

“Jace is a truly fortunate boy” his mother muttered, and in that moment, Aemond only felt anger.

 “Yeah, you can get girls like that when your family has the 70% of the family company, your face is not crossed by a scar… and you have two perfectly and healthy eyes… That´s makes the difference…” He spoke up, altered and disturbed by his mother´s words. He hated when she spoke so delight about that boys.

“Aemond, please” His mother begged him, a way to calm his well hidden temper.

“I´m not a child anymore, mother, I know how the way world works” He confessed to her, only anger and regret in his voice.

“I bet you could find a girl like that” Alicent replied.

“Yeah, sure” Aemond couldn’t believe that he was speaking about that with his mother.

“Aemond, you will find a really lovely girl, as sweet as (Y/N)” His mother said, but he didn’t respond. He had to keep his atenttion in the road. He sighed, trying to remain cold and stoic. But what if he didn’t want a girl as sweet as you, What if the only one that he wanted was… You. And, by the seven, he was going to get you.

When you arrived at Jace´s apartment, you landed against the bed that you both normally shared. You started to think again. And then, you found the problem. Yes, that was the problem. You couldn’t remember when the last time that Jace and you had a magnificent sex was. You were to ride him that night, it was going to be the best shag in your life. And you will forget Aemond with your true love. You dressed yourself with those so expensive black panties that you had never used and one of the favorite t-shirt of Jace. You painted your lips red and used the cologne that he had given to you in the last Christmas. It was going to be a great night, a perfect one… you only could imagine his face when he saw you… and the ring door sounded… you went so fast to open, with a sensual smile… and then you opened the door and your smile faded.

“(Y/N)!” Jace picked you up and kissed you, a quick, brief kiss, almost chaste. But you were still surprised. Behind him, there were Luke and Joffrey. “They came for me to the airport” he smiled to you. “So we will have dinner together” he explained to you while you still remained in silence. Luke seemed to understand was what happening and he spoke first.

“Jace, I think that (Y/N) had other plans in her mind with you” he coughed, a little blushed for seeing you in that black panties.

“It doesn’t matter, right, (Y/N)?” he smiled to you. You were still in silence. You didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t the plan.

“Well, you have heard him” Joffrey said loudly, entering in the apartment and going straight to the frige for one beer. You sighed. You sometimes loved his brothers, but that time had to be for the two of you, alone…

“They are going to go early, you will see” Jace whispered in your ear and you only nodded with a perfect smile. You changed your clothes and you had dinner with them. But, they didn’t leave early. They spent almost all night alone talking about the new contract, the new opportuniries… Finally, at the three o´clock of the morming they left.

You fell againt the bed again, this time really tired. Jace yawned by your side. “How was the dress fitting?” he asked you, his gaze fixed at the celling. You lied down againt his chest. You kissed him, ready for the best part of the night. You had waited patiently, now was the time for your reward.

“Good. Normal. I don’t know” you answered his question; while your hips humped against his leg “Did you miss me?” it was an innocent question, but not your voice tone. A sensual whisper only for him. He looked at you confused. You had never been like that before.

“Of course, I…” his voice stopped when your hand caressed his cock. You had tucked it into his pants. He grabbed your wrist. His gaze was so cold. “I´m really tired, (Y/N). It was a long flight, and a stressful week. I´m not in the mood for that…” What he wasn’t on the mood? You had endured his brothers all the night, and now, he wasn’t on the mood?

“I can ride you if you are tired” You murmured almost with tears in your eyes. You need it, you really need it to fix the things, and he was denying what you needed.

“Tomorrow night. We will be not tired, it will be great. I really missed you, but tonight all I need is to cuddle you. That´s all” He caressed your cheek. Yeah, that was all that he needed, but what about you? 

You laid down on your side of the bed and he embrace you from behind, that night he was going to be the big spoon. Perfect. “I really love you, (Y/N)” he whispered again in your ear. But you didn’t replied, all that you could think was if Aemond would have denied you too.