#and all I could say was I could just as easily get raped walking through the unsafe areas of my neighborhood to the shopping center

[fuckyourtriangles]

Had a real-life Twitter interaction the other day with my mom’s boyfriend.

Dude watched something on YT that upset him and decided that dinner would be a great time to talk about it. Then, realizing I disagreed with him and didn’t think what he was upset about was a big deal, proceeded to get MAD and leave the room, saying we were done talking about it and that he wasn’t going to bring it up again since, apparently, it was ME who was actually upset???

Then he comes back upstairs and goes on to bring it up IMMEDIANTLY and got even ANGRIER when I called him out on why he was looking up information on the thing he was mad about in the first place and he STORMED out of the house like a toddler lmao

then my mom got mad at me because I told her that I wasn’t apologizing and that I was allowed to ask someone to back up their statements lol

[sserpente]

Forgiveness of Blood

What if Tav and Astarion met a little differently? What if Tav was someone else? A half-vampire? What if Tav…was Cazador’s daughter?

A/N: *slides a plate of Astarion-shaped biscuits*

Words: 1920 Warnings: mentions of rape, murder, and abuse, violence, half vampire!Tav

The gith looked tasty enough. Perhaps the half-elf with the long black braid. Hells, even the Tiefling who was seemingly burning up from the inside out promised to be delicious—sizzling, you’d dare say.

At this point, you were desperate. Any humanoid blood would do and this group camped out in the middle of nowhere, was just perfect for satiating your needs for a few nights.

You crouched down further, remaining hidden behind the bushes and the dark shadows as you licked over your humble fangs. You hated it had come to this. One of the few advantages of being a half-vampire was that you were no slave to hunger for all things sanguine. You could walk in the sun though you burned up easily and you could eat regular food without it turning to ash in your mouth to sustain you. Still, there was no denying that blood, as much as you loathed the idea, would keep you at strength.

You’d been tumbling through the wilderness for days now. Escaping the clutches of a powerful vampire lord was one thing (especially when said vampire lord was your biological father) but escaping a horde of mind flayers? That took its toll. You shook yourself upon being reminded that Cazador’s blood ran through your very veins; you were disgusted by your own body because of it.

You only knew about half the horrors he’d inflicted on hundreds, thousands of innocents, the ones on your human mother included. Pregnancy among vampires was so rare it was nearly impossible. Your mother, may the gods be kind to her wherever she was now, had never been in love with that monster, of course. He’d taken a liking to her long ago, abducted her, kept her a prisoner in his palace until the impossible happened and she ended up with child—you.

Gods, the few childhood memories still flashing before your inner eye when you rested at night were all but devastating, lonely, and…cruel. He’d meant for you to do his bidding, to become his right hand—always by his side but never on top, of course. Only you wanted nothing to do with that. You’d seen the way he treated your mother when you were right there in your crib. You never found her body. Whatever he’d done with it…you weren’t sure you wanted to know.

You were around twelve years old when you took flight and, with the help of a servant who risked and sacrificed their life to save you, left Cazador behind for good.

Your stomach growled and you took a deep breath. He had passed part of the curse of vampirism onto you. There was nothing you could change about that, whether you wished to or not. You were wary of the berries and mushrooms growing around here though and you had no energy left in you to hunt for meat. The only thing left was…blood.

There. They’re getting ready for bed. You’d wait until they all gathered around the warm campfire and fell asleep and then…you’d strike.

“Astarion! Astarion, help!”

Shit. You pulled away from the black-haired girl whose neck you were about to sink your fangs into, ready to bolt away into the darkness. A beautiful elf who’d kept away from the fire stepped into view, blocking your escape route. He glared at you with his fists clenched, ready for a fight. Something was…different about him. You hadn’t noticed him at camp before because…your lips parted. He had no heartbeat.

“You’re a spawn.” It wasn’t a question, not really. He was unusually pale, his stunning eyes were red, and as he spoke…you saw the flash of a pair of fangs.

“What are you doing here? Who are you? You better get out before I gut you,” he spat.

“Another blood-sucker? Chk,” the gith tossed in.

You lifted your hands in defence. “I mean no harm, please.”

A dire mistake, so you realised quickly. Astarion’s gaze travelled to the silver ring on your finger—a keepsake from your mother, one that granted her access to various places and chambers in Cazador’s palace: it was a silver Szarr family ring, a small round ruby in its middle.

Astarion’s expression darkened until it was downright…murderous. You had neither the energy nor enough time to react when he lunged himself at you. Your back hit the dirty ground with a thump, pain shooting up and down your spine.

You felt the sharp blade of a dagger pressed against your throat before you saw it. It was accompanied by gasps, yet no one dared to intervene—yet.

“You came for me, didn’t you? He sent you! Answer me!” he yelled, making you flinch. Cazador.

“No! I’m not, I’m…I’m hungry, I…”

“You are not touching my companions. I still need them. Are there more? Who else did he send?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, please! Let me go!” You wriggled a little in his tight grasp.

“You’re wearing his ring. You serve him.”

“I don’t serve Cazador!” you choked out.

“So you do know what I’m talking about,” he growled.

“Please, let me up and I’ll explain.”

A man with longer hair and a beard cleared his throat. “Astarion…maybe you should hear her out. The lady seems to be very much in distress.”

“That’s how they lure you in,” Astarion retorted.

“Gale’s right, Astarion. Let’s hear what she has to say. Just like when you found me, remember?” the red-skinned tiefling added.

The spawn above you took a deep breath and released you, though his dagger remained drawn and ready to slice you open. You didn’t bother to get back up and instead, knelt on the ground in a weak attempt to prove you truly meant no harm.

“Speak before I change my mind. I do so love a midnight bloodbath.”

Chills ran up and down your spine. “I…I told you, I don’t work for Cazador. You’re…you’re one of his spawn, aren’t you? I don’t understand, why would he send people after you? Did you escape? How does he not control you?”

“We are not talking about me, we are talking about you.”

“Right.” You told him your name and offered a weak smile to the group. “I’m from Baldur’s Gate too. I have no idea where we are now though, to be honest. This is going to sound hard to believe but I was kidnapped by mind flayers.”

“Trust me,” Gale said, “it’s not as hard to believe as you might think.”

“Yeah…same thing happened to us, soldier,” the tiefling added.

“It…it did? I…I’ve been roaming the woods for weeks in search of civilisation.”

“You’re a spawn,” Astarion said, dismay swinging in his smooth voice.

“No. I’m not a spawn. I’m…I’m only half a vampire.”

Gale gasped. “A dhampir? How’s that even possible?”

“You know...” the black-haired girl you intended to bite intervened, “…when two people like each other very much, they do this thing…”

Gale snorted in response.

You nodded. “She’s right. Although…my biological parents did, in fact, not like each other when it happened. All I ever wanted was to be free from his disgusting legacy. I escaped from the palace when I was twelve years old. I don’t need blood to survive and I can walk in the sun, I just…I was so hungry I didn’t know what else to do.” You turned to the black-haired girl. “I wasn’t going to kill you. I just needed a few drops to regain my strength.”

“Huh, I think I’m having a déjà-vu.”

Meanwhile, Astarion’s face remained blank. One by one, the puzzle pieces you’d fed him fell into place—and he understood. “You…Cazador has a daughter?”

You nodded yet again. “My mother was human. She was a captive, much like you, I presume.”

“Well that certainly explains a lot,” Gale murmured.

It would all be fine now. Astarion knew the truth—he knew you weren’t here to bring him back to Cazador, and that never meant to kill any of his friends…

“You are…Cazador’s daughter,” Astarion repeated. Slowly. Dangerously so.

“I…I don’t know what he did to you. But I-I’m sorry. I’ve seen him in action, the man is a monster. I’m not like my father. I promise.”

He was still ready to kill you, you could feel it with every fibre of your being. You were not welcome here, not according to him anyway. Gods, you hated you were such an empathetic person! You couldn’t even tell whether the tears pricking your eyes were because of the crude hostility you were met with…or the fact that whatever Astarion had been through must have been even more terrible than what you had experienced living with the vampire lord.

“I’ll…I’ll leave.”

“No. You’re staying. Darling. You are going to be the perfect leverage to guarantee my freedom. And if not,”—he shrugged with a malicious smirk—“it will be a delight to kill you.”

Your blood ran cold. “Astarion…please, I…”

“Hold on! Let’s all just take a deep breath, yeah? No one is going to be leveraged here. You’re welcome to stay at our camp regardless, though. I am Karlach.” She points at herself, pleased. “It seems like you could use the company. We got food too. Real food, I mean. That’s Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Gale—but you already knew that—that over there, sleeping, is Wyll and…that’s it. Halsin’s probably still out in the woods, you’ll meet him in the morning.”

Astarion growled. “Cazazdor’s blood runs through her veins. The madness runs in the family. I ought to stake you right now. I’m keeping an eye on you.”

They let you stay. Against all reason, some space was made for you at camp and you were spared a bedroll. You couldn’t say you were a fan of sleeping under the stars but beggars couldn’t be choosers. None of them wanted to share their makeshift tent with Cazador’s daughter—and you couldn’t say you blamed them.

Regardless, no matter how much you turned and tossed, of course, sleep didn’t find you even after a quick but generous meal prepared by Gale. Astarion had been ready to kill you today. He probably had if Karlach and the others hadn’t stepped in.

And against all reason…you felt guilty. The pain in Astarion’s eyes…you’d seen your own reflected in it. Only the gods knew what he’d been through… You sighed and climbed to your feet, making your way over to his tent. Was this suicide? Quite possibly.

At first, you thought he was trancing. But then, from the corner of your eye, you saw a slight movement of his hand, one that would have been impossible to see with mere human sight. You cleared your throat.

“Astarion?”

Nothing.

“Astarion, I…I just want to say I’m sorry. I know you must hate me, I understand that. But for what it’s worth…I truly am sorry. Cazador is a monster. He killed my mother when he tired of her and only the gods know what he did with her corpse. Not a single memory I have with him is a good one. All I remember is pain, loneliness, and humiliation. We…we might share the same blood but I swear to you, I am nothing like him. If you won’t believe anything else…please believe that.”

There was no response for a while as you stood there, dumbfounded, waiting for his remarkably charming voice to sound. Then, finally…he shifted.

“I believe you.”

You breathed out audibly, relief flooding your veins. It was all he said. But for now…it was enough.

A/N: I feel like I'm going to continue this somehow. Maybe. Potentially when they're back in Baldur's Gate? Choices, choices...

[toxic3mmy]

I need black out drunk Alex to beg you to fuck him and it ends up being kind of cnc (not rape js cnc)

u guys are killing me with these requests, they’re SO good🫦🫦

prompt: you and alex fire up an old flame between the two of you

warnings! smut!! [both parties are not sober!!]

alex was drunk. you and your mutual friend group were out at a summer house party.

people were all over this huge house. they were smoking, drinking, and even doing other substances that you quickly would look away from because woah.

anyways, alex was really really drunk. you and him were close once but things were different now, honestly. you both had a small thing together but it quickly ended when his ex wanted him back.

he shouldn’t have drank so much… you shook those thoughts away. you assumed someone else would step in and take care of him.

you had a few drinks in you but nothing too major, considering you had only been at the party for a few hours. it was just enough to let you shed your usual shy personality and be able to easily talk to the people around you.

you didn’t even realize that your body had led you to the dance floor. they were playing some really good music and you couldn’t help but move your body to the beat.

you felt a warmth at your hips and look behind you to see rubius dancing with you. you smiled and began to press yourself up against him, your ass on his dick. you felt his warm breath tickle your neck as he told you how beautiful you looked tonight. you turned around and held him close to you as you continued dancing. the two of you had been together basically all night. you were flirting openly and neither of you really cared.

from the corner of your eye, you saw alex near the kitchen. he had an angry look on his face, almost like he wanted to punch something or someone. you made eye contact with him and he rolled his eyes as rubius began to kiss your neck.

alex held a bottle of tequila and tipped it back, taking a huge gulp straight from the bottle. you were starting to worry about him but rubius caught your attention.

“c’mon hermosa, let me take you home tonight” he asked in a flirty manner

“o-oh… i—”

a huge crash cut you off. both you and rubius quickly made your way to where alex had fallen over in the kitchen

“alexis, let me help you—”

“fuck you rubius…” alex slurred, wiping his face from the alcohol that had spilled

rubius was concerned and very confused about what he did but before he could make the situation worse. you stepped in, quickly sobering up

“alex, let’s go home, yeah?” you cooed gently, helping him up to his feet

you held him steady as you walked through the crowd and out of the house together. you drove to alex’s house in silence. the atmosphere felt tense and you weren’t sure what to say.

instead, you said nothing and helped alex out of your car and to his front door. you opened the door and let the two of you in.

“lets get you to bed” you whispered and did just that

after you tucked alex into his comforter, you let him know you’d be on his back porch smoking a bit since there wasn’t much alcohol left in your system.

you smoked your weed for a little over twenty minutes and heard a notification from your phone. smiled at your phone as you saw that rubius had messaged you about having fun with you tonight.

“talking with your queue of men? or is it just my son of a bitch best friend?”

you nearly pissed your pants as alex’s unexpected presence scared you. you quickly put your phone away to avoid any arguing.

“hey.. why are you out of bed? you need some rest, lexie” you said, putting out your joint

“dont call me that” he said through gritted teeth

“w-what? alex, are you okay?”

“no. i’m not okay. you know exactly what you were doing at the party. tell me y/n, how many of my friends have you fucked behind my back?”

“excuse me?” you said, not believing what he was saying to you

“you heard me. i saw you all over rubius. and i know you’re probably sleeping with all of my other friends, too. do you seriously think any of them can compare to me?”

you didnt have time to respond before alex pulled you flush against his shirtless body.

“c’mon y/n… you know you miss me. you miss the way i fill you up completely, don’t you? please… please let me fuck you, sweet girl”

“i don’t— no… alex, you’re drunk” you shook your head

“please y/n… look at what you do to me” he whined, reaching forward and placing your hand on his clothed hard on

“alex….”

“i’m begging you, you don’t know how much i need that sweet little pussy of yours… please, princesa”

“i—”

“please dont say no yet...”

“what do you mean?” you asked

he grabbed your hand and took you inside. he took you into his bedroom, or more like you helped him as he was still not able to walk normally. he gently sat you on his bed and you didn’t know what to do.

your head hurt from smoking way too much and your thoughts were foggy from it, too. you let him lay you down. he started to run his fingers lightly from your legs up to your face

“y/n… i’ve wanted this for so long. i’ve missed you so much. i’m so sorry it took so long for me to say something. and im especially sorry that i let my jealousy get the best of me tonight. i thought drinking would help distract me from seeing you and rubius… but it only made me want you more”

“are you sure you want this? we’re both not sober… what if this isn’t what’s right?” you asked worriedly

“baby, ill always want you. sober or drunk, i want you. do you understand?” he said genuinely

you thought about what he was saying and you realized you wanted him too, sober or high.

he smiled as he leaned in to kiss you. as your lips connected, you felt an eruption of warmth spread from your belly to every part of your body. his lips made your head spin and you loved it.

“you feel so good, lexie”

“and you taste so good, baby”

as your tongues fought for dominance, you felt yourself slowly change positions. you were now sat on his lap and kissing him deeply.

your hands found their way into his hair as his hands rested on your naked thighs.

when did you take your clothes off? you were in only your panties and bra now and alex in his boxers. alex pulled away, only a line of saliva connecting your mouth to his. he began to tug at your bra, wanting it off

“i want to see you” he whimpered softly into your neck as he finally unclasped your bra and threw it aside

he felt almost feral at the sight of your naked breasts sitting prettily in front of him. his breath was caught in his throat at the sight.

“you look so beautiful like this, so pretty and needy for me” he praised

he began to suck and nip at your neck, one of his hands rolled one of your nipples in between his fingers while his other hand was in between your legs. his fingers teased your wetness, only slightly dipping a finger halfway into you. he’d quickly take it out and trace circles around your entrance, making you clench, needing more.

“please… don’t stop” you whispered into his hair as a mix of the weed and the pleasure he was giving you took over your every last sense

“i wouldn’t dream of it” his mouth was now sucking at your tits eagerly as you let out more and more whiny moans

you reached in front of you and took his thick and leaking cock out of his boxers. your hand slowly wrapped around him as you teasingly rubbed at his tip. in response, he bit down harshly on your nipple and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your throat.

“s-sorry hermosa, its just… you still remember how i like it” he gasped and chuckled soon after

you smiled and began to move your hand slowly as he rubbed your clit at the same pace. the two of you kissed one another as you touched each other intimately and slowly.

you took your panties off and lifted yourself up a bit, making sure to sit right on his cock. his face was scrunched up in pleasure as he let out incoherent whines.

“god… yes… oh fuck, just like that…” he said as his hands made their way to your hips, helping you steady yourself on his lap

you lifted yourself up and sat down eagerly with him buried inside of you.

“you’re all mine y/n, not ruibius’, and not anyone else’s. did you miss me? did you miss how good i fuck your brains out, hm? just look at how desperately you’re riding me” he touched your face gently and suddenly grabbed your chin and harshly faced you to him

“look at me when im talking to you, slut. did you enjoy having other men fuck you when we weren’t together? i bet none of them were this good, were they?”

“n-no..” you managed to choke out

“tell me im the best cock you’ve ever had, tell me baby” he said as he began to fuck into you at a faster and rougher pace

“y-you’re the best i’ve ever had”

“aw, you can do better than that. be a good girl yeah? tell me again or don’t even think about cumming”

“ive never been fucked so well… i dream of your cock, i need you alex please”

“that’s right sweetheart, so then,” he flipped your positions, having you faced down into the bed while he fucked you from behind, “who’s pussy is this? who does this pussy belong to, hm?”

“y-yours.. its yours”

“nuh-uh, you can do better than that” he shook his head, a smirk on his face

“this pussy is all yours alex, please let me cum, please”

“well, since you asked so nicely”

he fucked into you like his life depended on it. one of his hands was on your ass while his other was rubbing your sensitive clit. his hips snapped against your ass, making a loud noise as the two of you filled the room with panting symphonies of moans.

“im close, so c-close”

“shhh, its okay baby. i need you to take my load, okay? and i need you to cum with my cock inside of your cunt”

you nodded with tears of pleasure in your eyes. you felt yourself getting closer and closer. you shut your eyes as your body trembled and your pussy clenched tightly, your own juices seeping out of you. with a few more thrusts, alex came inside of you hotly.

the two of you cleaned up and fell asleep together, deciding to deal with the situation tomorrow when the two of you were sobered out.

[annwrites]

—exactly what he needs | nate jacobs x classmate!reader

tw: use of a firearm for intimidation purposes, threats of suicide, mentions of domestic violence, implied rape, victim blaming

When you turn on your bedroom light, your body, as well as your heart, both jump in fear as you let out a small scream.

❝Sit down,❞ Nate commands quietly, gesturing toward your bed with the revolver he holds tightly in his grip.

❝N-Nate, what're—❞

He rests an ankle over a knee while leaning back in the chair you have shoved in the corner of your room, facing your bed.

He lowers the pistol as well.

❝I didn't come here to hurt you. I came here to talk, and I'd like for you to listen to what I have to say.❞

He nods to the bed.

❝Sit down,❞ he orders once again, more firmly this time.

You swallow thickly, and fight back the tears that're brimming in your eyes as you pad over to it, then seat yourself at the foot.

He glances down to the gun and shrugs lightly. ❝I knew that this was the only way I'd get you to listen. You refuse to even look at me in class now. I'm being treated like a fucking pariah by everyone because of that goddamn play...❞

He shakes his head while slowly trailing his eyes back up to your own. ❝You were the one good thing in my life. And I did everything I could to make you happy—to make sure we stayed together. Everything was fine before Lexi got in your fucking head that day.❞

He leans forward while sliding the pistol along his thigh. ❝These are the lengths you drove me to. If you had just given me the time of day at school, or when I texted and called you hundreds of goddamn times, this wouldn't be happening right now.❞

❝N—❞

❝I love you. I still love you, despite you walking away from me so easily when I gave you everything I fucking had to give. I told you before that you're the one I'm supposed to be with—that you're exactly what I need to make me happy after all the shit my family, and my exes, have put me through.❞

He stands and takes a few steps closer until he's towering over you.

You scoot back a little, wanting desperately to get away from him.

But in doing so, you've given him exactly what he wants incase you don't act accordingly when he makes you his next offer.

❝I'm giving you one last chance to come back to me. It'll take work, but in time, I think we can forgive each other and get back to where we were just a few weeks ago. My life has gone to shit without you in it. I...❞

He shakes his head, while rubbing his thumb against his forehead—that silver pistol glinting against the light before he lowers it again.

❝I don't know how to fucking do any of this without you anymore. I feel like I can't breathe unless we're together. I don't eat, I barely fucking sleep. I don't talk to anyone, and when I do, I'm just constantly pissed off. All I do is think about you and what I've lost. So, I'm begging you: please.❞

You ball your hands into fists to try and hide the way they're shaking, even if your entire body is trembling in fear of him.

Your chin wobbles and tears begin to slip down your cheeks. You know you have to word things carefully. Don't make him angry, or the white walls of your bedroom will soon be painted red.

❝Nate, this isn't love. This is... It's obsession, I think. I don't... I'm so scared. Please, please just go. I won't tell anyone, I prom—❞

He shakes his head again, glancing away. ❝You don't get it. You still don't.❞

His eyes flit to yours again. ❝Maybe I can make you understand another way, then.❞

He suddenly crawls on top of you and your breath hitches in your throat while your heart flips in your chest—beating unevenly.

You press your head back against the pillows while his heavy weight settles on top of your own, completely caging you in.

This was how it had felt being with him, too: suffocating.

Trapped.

No escape.

Dangerous.

Deadly.

❝Please,❞ you whisper.

The revolver makes a reappearance and you still while you stare at the weapon in terror.

And then he presses it to his temple before brushing a kiss over your forehead. ❝I love you more than anything, but if we can't be together, then I don't want to be. Not without you. I can't anymore. I won't.❞

He cocks the lever back, pulls the trigger, and the gun clicks on an empty chamber.

You begin to sob violently.

❝Please, please, please, please! Don't!❞ You shriek.

He presses his lips gently to yours, despite you cringing away from the intimate gesture, cocks the lever yet again, and pulls the trigger.

Click.

You feel like you might wet yourself.

You've never felt so terrified in your entire life—had not thought feeling this sort of fear was even possible.

Not even when he had hit you those couple of times, then convinced you afterwards that it was an accident, but also still somehow your fault.

He cocks the lever back again.

❝Stop! Stop! Okay, we're together, just stop, please, I'm begging you!❞

His eyes open and flit between each of yours that're wide with fright and filled with glassy tears.

❝Tell me you love me, then.❞

❝I love you,❞ you whimper.

❝You won't ever try to leave again. If you do, I'll kill myself. There won't be any empty chambers next time.❞

❝I w-won't. P-promise.❞

❝You belong to me. Forever. The rest of your fucking life. You'll do what I say.❞

You nod fervently while squeezing your eyes shut, and tears slip along your temples before wetting the pillowcase beneath your head.

You hear him settle the gun on your bedside table then, and you let out a ragged breath of relief while opening your eyes once more.

And then Nate tugs his shirt off over his head.

Your brows furrow when he reaches down and begins undoing his belt. ❝Wh-What're you doing?❞

❝Get undressed,❞ he mumbles.

❝N-N-Nate, n-no. I... Not n-now, please.❞

His eyes meet yours again. ❝You promised to do as I say.❞

Your body is freezing cold and you can't stop shaking. ❝This i-isn't r-right.❞

He throws his belt to the side, then pushes his pants and boxers down past his knees before kicking them off the bed. ❝It's exactly right. This is the only way.❞

❝We... We don't even have—there's no c-condom.❞

He slides his fingers through your hair while gazing down at you. ❝You never had a mother, and grew up with an absent, workaholic father. You won't allow your own child to grow up without both parents. You told me that once. So, like I said: this is the only way I can hold onto you.❞

You feel like you're in a nightmare, like this isn't actually happening. Your mind feels disconnected from your cold, trembling body.

Maybe you're having a mental break. This isn't real. He's not actually here.

Nate reaches under your dress and begins tugging down your panties.

❝No, wait! I can't! I can't!❞ You shout, desperate to get him off of you. Desperate to go far, far away where he'll never find you again.

He slowly drags his gaze toward your bedside table and you turn your head, following his line-of-sight.

He reaches for the gun.

You resign yourself to your fate.

❝I'll do it.❞

With numb, shaking hands, you remove your panties.

Just like always, he's lied yet again. He'd told you that he didn't come here to hurt you, but that's all he's ever done.

At least he's consistent in that, if nothing else.

You should've let him keep pulling the trigger.

a/n: the linked story at the top is what this scene was meant to one day be part of, but i struggled a lot with continuing said story once i published chapter 6, so it's on hiatus until further notice. however, i've wanted to write & publish this scene for months, so here it is!

[hekateinhell]

I was wondering what your thoughts are on this. A lot of people see a vampire biting (without consent) a metaphor for rape. Like when Lestat is turned and the ball scene. Armand was seemingly attempting a hook-up. He's maybe using mind control because Lestat is somewhat incoherent. He's terrified because it reminds him of Magus. He calls it an unforgivable lie. Where do you think this metaphor ends? Do they (metaphorically) rape mortals when they kill them or is that different? Thanks！

Hi! 🖤

So I think it's going to be a two-part response here because it's an interesting question and I want to do it justice. Now, this is what Lestat says in TVL:

I wanted him [Armand] to beg. I wanted him to give me that powerful voice full of lies and cunning, the voice that had made me believe for one pure and dazzling instant that I was alive and free and in the state of grace again. Damnable, unforgivable lie. Lie I'd never forget for as long as I walked the earth.

This is the unforgivable lie! The illusion Armand created that let Lestat believe with his whole heart and soul "I [Lestat] could get away this time. I had another chance. The wheel had turned full round", but of course it wasn't real, and that's what hurt Lestat the most.

That being said, let's address the metaphor because it comes often enough in VC. Usually between two vampires — the most explicit examples would be Armand saying he wants to rape David in TVA, and Lestat ruminating over the violence of his creation (which mirrors David's) in Blood Canticle:

[...] immortals who think they want the Dark Blood perish infinitely more easily than those of us who never asked for it. Perhaps the anger of the rape carries us through for centuries.

Your question was: "Do vampires metaphorically rape mortals when they kill them?" and I would have to say, yes, they do!

Because when we're thinking about metaphors, allegories, and the different ways that language is used, it's so important to put it into context or we're going to lose the nuance completely. I discussed this with my friend @somevagrantchild, who's not just an obsessive Anne Rice fan but also someone who's been studying vampire media for a very long time, and they made some excellent points in response to your question that I'm going to directly quote below!*

They are violating and taking from the mortals without consent; it’s a general vampire allegory for all vampires since the beginning of time. Anything not consensual = rape. If a vampire hypnotizes a human to drink from them so that the human enjoys it, it’s still rape.

No human ever consents to be killed. Even like the suicidal people Armand draws to him still aren’t consenting. They don’t have enough knowledge to consent, killing a suicidal person doesn’t make it consensual. The only way would be if the human was like, “I understand you are a vampire, please kill me sir.” The consenting to death would be seeking out the vampire themselves and making the conscious choice; suicide means deciding when you die. If they’re suicidal but haven’t killed themselves yet, then killing them before they make that choice is still violating them.

Rape especially applies to vampires (more than other types of non consensual murder) because of the intimacy of it, the way they’re violating that person's inner self by drawing out their memories and private feelings, also the bodily fluids going from one body into another (as opposed to stabbing someone and their blood just spilling on the floor).

Examples in literature: At the very beginning of vampire fiction with Lord Ruthven seducing innocent maidens; Dracula just snuck in their room and attacked while they were asleep in bed but Ruthven was seducing them personally, and all adaptations of Dracula have him being much more seductive. Carmilla, too, sneaking into Laura’s bed and feeding on her breasts in the middle of the night. The whole penetrative aspect makes the rape metaphor more applicable than it is to other types of murder/violence.

*touched up for grammar and continuity from Discord.

Hope that answers your question and thank you so much @somevagrantchild for lending me your brain for this one! I want to devour it. ♥️

[shokomilks]

Shigeo Kageyama (Mob) You are the best thing that happened in my peaceful life - Neutral Reader - Chapter 1: Who is Aoi?

(Y/N) dies brutally before graduating from high school, full of regrets and a bitter taste of not having enjoyed enough, your receives a second chance, and this time, with Shigeo by your side (Sorry If the gender is not neutral, let me know anything)

-

Harassment trigger alert, I almost rape, but I didn't have the courage to write it. I promise not to write about this anymore, but I would like to write about a fear I have in some of my writing lol

-

There was (Y/N), sitting at they desk, scrolling through the Instagram page with so much disinterest, Isabel LaRosa was playing in his ears (I really like writing that mentions songs that sort of “immerse” the story, I'll try to leave some while writing :), LISTEN TO I DON'T FORGIVE YOU, I discovered her today but she's so good HOLY SHIT), in the background of the headphones at a really loud volume, murmurs from you classmates excited for the upcoming graduation they were quite clear

“Paraninfo wasn’t what I wanted”

“Can I stop by your house after graduation?”

“Are you going with a partner?”

You just wanted it all to happen, it wasn't horrible, but there wasn't any considerable good experience, you knew the truth, you knew that everything you experienced would be a “good memory”, as the older people said, you knew that your friends would disappear over time, only work and solitude would be left for you, so you didn't try to make many connections or anything remarkable. They could get along very well with your colleagues, but you would easily be mistaken for a plant cause could be so quiet.

The bell rings, signaling that another day has passed, (Y/N) picked up they things, throwing them awkwardly into you backpack, the end of the year was leaving quite exhausted, so many worries and few solutions coming at once, the only desire that felt like throwing yourself on the bed and sleeping listening to your playlist. As he threw his backpack on his shoulders, feeling the weight of his notebooks, he quickly headed towards the exit.

The day wasn't bad, a pleasant weather, teenagers leaving school en masse, (Y/N) followed her usual path, several thoughts surrounded her mind “Which college to go to?” “Will I have money to shell out or did I get my scholarship?” “And employment?” “Did I choose something that makes me money?” “Was this really what I wanted?” But his thoughts stopped when “Sex, Drugs, Etc” reached you ears, you increased the volume even though you knew it was wrong to use headphones at high altitudes, and you just enjoyed the ride home, feeling the breeze hit your face, almost taking you along, as if taking all the worries away

But nothing good lasts long, an older man bumped into you, almost knocking you down

- Be careful where you walk - he said, quite irritated.

- Sorry - You mutter, trying to get out of there, but your wrist is caught in a big grip, which makes you look at the figure, it was a man with little hair on his head, very gray you would say, with fair skin and full of hair

- Someone as beautiful as you shouldn't go unaccompanied

- Leave me, please

- I'll guide you to where you need to go - he starts dragging you in some direction, you can't identify it, the grip only increased and all you wanted was to get out of that situation

- Seriously, there's no need for so much kindness, just let me go - you tried to let go again, but there was no use, your heart was already almost leaving you, your breathing was unregulated, countless scenarios flashed through your mind, none of them good.

This man takes you to a car parked not far away, throws you inside, not wasting much time to touch you under your clothes, your voice was no longer there, you were no longer there, your brain tried to calm you down about all of this, trying to think about other things, but the touch of that disgusting thing took away any attempt to forget that all of this was happening, until he pulled down his pants, revealing... you know. You screamed, your brain forced you to scream the loudest he could, throwing himself at the door to try to open it. He tried to make some scandal that would save you, but all that happened was that he forcefully gave you a pill, little by little you senses disappeared and your vision became increasingly dark.

When you opened your eyes, you were no longer in the car, you were lying on a soft bed, you could still feel his touch on your body, which made you feel sick, you sat up, trying to process where you were, you were in a room, but it wasn't yours, the person who lived there had good taste, this person liked the same series and anime as you, don't get distracted, you thought. Your vision falls to your feet, not that you paid attention to them, you were trying to understand the situation, where you were, why you were here, did that idiot take you to his own house? Your breathing was already becoming unregulated again, your heart wanting to stop, but your thoughts were cut off by a feminine scream.

- Aoi, go down to eat your coffee, today is your first day of school, you can't be late!! - a voice echoes from outside the door, you are perplexed, “who is this woman?” “Who is Aoi?” Finally, your vision focused on your feet, the shoes at the foot of the bed perfectly aligned, the floor with a velvety brown carpet, a loud knock on the door takes you out of your thoughts, or rather precise analysis about the floor

- Am I going to have to pull you out of bed Aoi? - You blink slightly, your index finger unconsciously points at you, hissing a “Me?” between the lips

- And who else would it be? Let's go quickly, if you're not going to be late - the woman says, closing the door, making it possible to hear her short steps hurriedly descending the stairs.

When looking to the side, the Japanese uniform was visible hanging on the hanger, without much questioning you change, looking around the room trying to find a phone and a backpack, you see a cell phone and a blue backpack plugged into the charger like students usually do. use in anime. You take them, rummaging through your backpack for headphones, a smile appears on your face when you see that you have headphones available, as you leave the room changed, with a backpack, a cell phone and headphones that don't belong to you, (Y/N) carefully goes down the stairs, trying to see the house, it was a simple house, without many decorations, it was visible sitting at the table eating quickly that woman, with brown hair tied in a loose bun, dressed in office clothes, upon noticing the look on the back of her head, she looks up at your direction, waving happily to come down soon

You quickly sit down at the table, trying to eat the omelet that was on the table, despite feeling sick.

- So… i have school today?

- Yes honey

- How do I get there? - She looks at you seriously, sighing loudly

- Did you forget again? Just put the name of the school on Google maps and walk there

- I... forgot the name of the school... and also my password

- In the second drawer of the desk in the living room, your password is written down, I don't know how you always forget it - she said, getting up with the now empty plate, heading towards the kitchen, most likely to leave your plate - and Aoi - you murmur in answer - Paprika High School, you only chose it because it seemed like the coolest spice to talk about, since all the schools here have some spice in their name

- Oh, Yeah, I forget that haha ​​- (Y/N) said, as you got up trying to find the second drawer in that desk, when you saw the desk in the corner of the room next to the TV, you bend down and find a notebook scribbled on it. cover “Aoi”, it must be this one after all, when leafing through the pages you find a page “Cell phone passwords”, several scribbled passwords, you find one circled in red with a small note next to it “This is the new one!!”, that’s it. it would be enough, when you take the notebook with you to the table, you pick up your cell phone and enter the newly discovered password, it was really her.

A wallpaper of Gojo and Geto was visible, several applications were cluttered on the screen, but then you would explore calmly, you had to find Google Maps, when you found it you quickly typed the name of the school, entering a quick walking route

- Thanks - you sigh, you were afraid of not going to school for Aoi, when everything was sorted out you wouldn't have to deal with scolding from your mother

- You're welcome honey - she approaches, placing a kiss on your cheek - Have a great day at school - she leaves the house, leaving you alone in that new environment, without wasting time you also leave, grabbing a pair of keys with a caterpie keychain on the keychain, it would definitely be Aoi's, so you locks the door when you leaves and heads to school

————

When you arrived at school, you didn't really know where to look for Aoi's class, so you went to the list of class, but there was a problem, what was Aoi's last name? So you searched your bag for some document, when you found your wallet, you abruptly opened it, finding your document “Aoi Suzuki”.. okay, now find it in the list, after searching a lot you find Aoi in class 1-B. Once the room that belonged to it was found, it was time to find where it would be. You enter the school, looking for the “1-B” signs, when you find them you go in looking for seats, but most of them were occupied, so you sit somewhere empty, some people were already making friends and fitting in, you preferred not to interfere, taking Aoi's cell phone to explore this person's life better. Your tastes were actually similar, after looking at some apps you found Notepad as one of the apps you used recently, they had countless notes from Aoi, so to kill time you decided to open some.

“I always thought that nothing new happened, I always told my colleagues that “Nothing's New” was my song, after my father abandoned my family and my mother got busy with her job, the routine that continued more and more never broke , but by some miracle, my mother decided that living in Seasoning City, maybe a change of scenery wouldn't be so bad after all. I luckily managed to get into Paprika school, this reminds me of the movie besides the spice, I thought it was a very interesting name, well, they released my new room, I'll be able to write in my notebook again, see ya ;)”

Journal? What notebook was she talking about? Could it be in backpack? Without wasting time with many questions, you quickly look through backpack, taking all notebooks and placing them on the table to search, and nothing, with each notebook opened more and more blank pages appeared before your eyes “It should only be in the room” you sigh tiredly, throw the notebooks back into your backpack, seeing the teacher in charge arrive with a folder in his arms.

- Ok ok, new school, new colleagues, I want everyone to introduce themselves when I call them - everyone agrees in unison.

You don't even care much about the students, after all you would try to get out of this situation quickly, Aoi is called after about 6 students introduce themselves, you quickly get up and say shallow things like your name, that you are excited about the new year to come and you wants support from everyone, things that protagonists would say. More people introduce themselves, some saying great monologues, others saying the same as you, until the teacher says a name you would never expect to hear “Shigeo Kageyama”, the sound of a chair dragging was heard behind you, a sudden turn was made to see his colleague from behind, it was him, it was really him.

When you were about twelve or thirteen years old you discovered the anime “Mob Psycho 100”, and it touched you in a different way, the animation, the story were simply incredible, but something that marked you beyond these factors was the protagonist, a big Your crush on him was formed during your years as a fan, such a kind and cute boy was something you would like to have in your life, but impossible, until now, the most boyish haircut, the nervous way of speaking, the fair skin and dark eyes, it was him, without a doubt.

Before he could see you, you abruptly turn forward with extremely flushed cheeks, a confused face and an unprepared heart, “I'm sorry Aoi but now you've lost the chance of your life, WAIT DON'T THINK LIKE THAT” as you manage to normalize your breathing , your thoughts became clearer, and your goals defined. You would become friends with Shigeo Kageyama, try to understand why you was Aoi, and try to make the most of it.

————

Thanks for reading, mob not have a much fanfics, so this motivated me a writing. Anyway, see you later 🐳

[xieliansbignaturals]

do you have any xie lian whump fic recs? 👁️

Oh my gosh, yes!! I just finished this one:

State Of You by Koiichaser_lucorinth (M, 61k, Past Torture, Starvation, PTSD)

Divine dragon Xie Lian has lived centuries as a scavenger, scraping through life by wandering the realms searching for a thing he dare not hope for. Horrible luck haunts his steps, and heartache has long since faded into acceptance. And yet, when another near-fatal wound drags him close to death, has that luck turned around in the shape of a human named San Lang? Long buried instincts start to rise to the surface, but it doesn’t matter. San Lang is already in the service of another dragon: a mysterious, powerful being named Hua Cheng. At least, Xie Lian thinks so...

It's SO good. It's pretty intense at times, but the focus of the overall fic is on Xie Lian healing and being courted by Hua Cheng.

And then this one is technically still unfinished, but it's just waiting for an epilogue, and the author has been very consistent with uploading chapters:

lay your wager (down to sleep) by BenevolentErrancy (E, 103k, Flashbacks, Temporary Brain Trauma, Rape Recovery)

Captured and incapacitated, Xie Lian has been enduring an unchanging routine of confusion and pain until he finds himself lost in a wager to the fierce Ghost King, Hua Cheng.

I've been mentally writing fan-fan-fiction for this fic since I first started reading it! All the noncon is in flashbacks, but it's pretty explicit, and it takes a while to get to the comfort.

Then there's this one:

you live with ghosts by feelslikefire (M, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Past Rape/Non-Con)

For a year and a half, Xie Lian has served--endured--at his Emperor's knee. As Jun Wu's personal pet, the experience has been more painful and humbling than he could possibly have predicted. But when a chance encounter gives Xie Lian the opportunity to escape Jun Wu's grip, he finds support in the last place he would have thought possible: the waiting arms of the most feared ghost king in the three realms. (Or: Xie Lian escapes a terribly abusive relationship and recovers with Hua Cheng's help, featuring hurt/comfort with Hualian happy ending.)

This one has a prequel that's just Junlian noncon, but I haven't read that one in a while. I really liked the description of Xie Lian's recovery - Jun Wu's psychological abuse really took a toll on him, and it didn't fade away easily.

And I don't remember this one super well, but I remember it was good and intense:

a long day in yong an by ThreePlums (E, 65k, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Time Loop)

"Gege," San Lang calls, his voice oddly strained. He isn't looking at Xie Lian's face, his eyes instead fixed pointedly over his shoulder. "You remember me?" Xie Lian takes a few tentative steps closer. "Of course," he says cautiously. "How could I forget San Lang so easily?" "But you said," he croaks, and then stops to clear his throat. He shakes his head, and then quickly walks over to meet Xie Lian halfway. "Gege," he whispers. "You said it wasn't happening to you." "I said what wasn't happening?" he asks, matching San Lang's volume. "Today," San Lang says, finally meeting his eyes. "Haven't you lived it before?" -- Featuring: a thrice-sealed coffin, an extravagant parade, and too many osmanthus cakes.

Sorry, my whump tastes tend toward sex-related whump! (And Hualian.) Hopefully if you're not into that, you'll still like the other two. Thank you for sending this ask! <3

[toshisurtsdottir]

Rape and Retribution - Chapter 1

Yesterday, I asked if you'd like to read my Turpin fanfic. I decided that I'd upload it, see how it goes and if it goes well I'll keep posting it :) Technically, it's finished BUT there are a lot of scenes in between that are missing which I might add - we'll see. OH AND: It's kinda fluffy?? But also pretty dark. Idk. Find out I guess haha WARNINGS (for the entire fanfic): mentions of rape, rape, mentions of violent torture, violence, death, murder, NSFW ... and many more

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Summary: Toshi Vernier has a plan for her future. To gain her freedom, she has to get in contact with the ruthless Judge Turpin. He has other plans for her.

On the bustling streets of London, a thief could easily walk past dozens of people unnoticed by any of them. Today, Toshi had no intention of stealing, however. She had something else in mind entirely, something that was part one of her big path to freedom. The young woman was dressed up in men’s clothes: grey pants, an off-white blouse and a grey vest. Her long, white hair was hidden beneath a hat that had seen better days, but it served its purpose. From afar, one might say that she was just a small man going about his business. A bit shady looking perhaps, but that was the usual.

She was stalking around the courthouse, waiting patiently for Judge Turpin to emerge. She knew he would sooner than later. She had studied his behaviour for a few days now, finding out his schedule. Right on time, the heavy doors swung open and two men emerged. The tall judge, wearing a long coat that would make anyone else who wore it seem small. It seemed to be working the opposite on him, it just made him taller. Next to him, the Beadle. Beadle Bamford was a small man, rattish and always on the judge’s heels. Toshi eyed the Beadle angrily. He was one of the men who had, once or twice, taken her father’s offer to use Toshi’s body for their own pleasure. Toshi didn’t remember how often he had had her, she usually erased these encounters from her memory. But she knew he had taken her at least once. As she stared at him, her jaw and fists clenched, she failed to notice that the Beadle had bid the judge goodbye and was now headed the opposite direction. She almost wasted her chance as Turpin made his way down the main street, nearly getting swallowed in the crowd. Toshi snapped out of it and shook her head, snaking her way through the masses of people until she could almost reach him. She would follow him until he was in a more secluded place, then she would talk to him. She had trouble keeping up with the man. People got out of his way (he was a person of power after all) but they kept getting in Toshi’s. Finally, after a few minutes of her struggling to keep up, Turpin turned into a less frequented street. This was her chance.

“Judge Turpin! My Lord!” She called out, quickly jogging up to him. Clearly irritated, he turned around, his eyes instantly fixed on her figure. His nose scrunched up in disgust and he was about to turn and walk off when Toshi spoke a second time. “Please Sir, hear me out! I have important news you must know, my Lord!” She wasn’t one to address people by their titles, or show any kind of manners, but she needed to in this situation. She knew about Turpin that he saw everyone else beneath him and wanted them to treat him accordingly. “Spit it out, boy.” He hissed, albeit he didn’t stop walking or slowed down. Toshi was already out of breath, keeping up with him and speaking at the same time was a hard task to do. “My Lord, your life might be in danger! I came to –“ she stumbled over a small rock “- to warn you!”

Turpin then stopped dead in his tracks, causing Toshi to almost smack into him. He turned around, slowly, his eyes wandering from her face down to her chest (where they seemed to linger for a while), then down to her feet and finally flicked back up to her face. “And what, may I ask, makes you think so? The scum that inhabits these streets usually wants me dead. These are not news. You are wasting my time, child.” He hissed in a low tone, his jaw clenched. “Please, Sir. I am referring to a man known as Sweeney Todd. You see, my Lord, he is not who he seems. Or so they say.” She fumbled with the buttons on her vest nervously. She wasn’t one to get nervous in front of men. Her usual feeling towards them was rage. But he was dangerous, truly dangerous. And she was playing an even more dangerous game right now. “Todd?” He tilted his head, waiting for her to go into detail. Toshi didn’t want to let him wait.

“Yes, Sir. I’ve heard people say his true name is Benjamin Barker. Lost his wife and daughter… say he’s out to get revenge, my Lord.”

The last month, ever since getting that information, she had done a lot of research on Barker and Turpin. She knew that Turpin was responsible for Barker’s ruined life. She needed to get on the Judge’s good side (a vital bit of her freedom plan) and since she had no money to bribe him (unlike others), she hoped vital information would suffice.

Turpin’s eyes remained fixed on hers, a tired expression on his face. If this news worried him, he certainly didn’t let it show. “Benjamin Barker you say?” He raised an eyebrow, his voice a long drawl.. Toshi only nodded in response, hoping that he would like the information she had just given him. “He is supposedly back in his old home currently, in Fleet Street, working as a barber as he did before.” And after a pause: “My Lord.” Something then changed in Turpin’s expression. It seemed to be a mixture of worry, anger and something that Toshi couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Who are you?” He frowned, his eyes flicking down to her chest again.

“My name is Toshi Vernier, Sir.” Clearly, her name didn’t give him more insight on her gender, as his eyes kept flicking from her face to her chest. “I’m dressed as a man, so you’d listen to me, my Lord.” She quickly added. His expression softened as soon as he heard her say that. The fact she was female somehow changed his demeanour. “I see.” A long pause followed as he once more eyed her as if to confirm what she had just said. “I assume, given your disguise and secretive manner, that you want something in return for this information.” He sighed. Toshi wondered if he was used to this kind of exchange. She could imagine that most people would approach him to gain his favour. She wondered how many people actually got it.“I might, my Lord. If this information saves your life, I would like you to remember that I was the one to give it to you.” She nodded, taking off her hat, looking up at him hopefully.

Turpin walked closer to her, causing her to back up a little. Before she could get too far away, however, he grabbed her by the collar and roughly pulled her closer to him, his face only inches away from hers.

“If I find out that you’ve lied to me, that you’re somehow involved in this, I will make sure you’ll rot in a cell for the rest of your unworthy life.” He hissed, shook her and then pushed her away from him. She stumbled back into a nearby wall. He smirked, satisfied by his action, and turned around to leave.

Toshi’s heart was beating out of her chest as she watched him leave. This had gone exceptionally well in her mind.

[kit-williams]

Heartless Madness

The title is based off of a really cool powermetal song. I'm probably going to try and name most if not all after a powermetal song tbh.

tw: Yandere? (Might need a follow up fic), aftermath of rape, aftermath of torture, the Drukhari are here so yeah

This was a hard darling to come up with... as while I love Iron Warriors she had to be the right balance of interesting enough and made of tough stuff and also to be easily mailable/moldable. I might eventually do a "least yandere" poll and see who wins and either reworks that boy or just gives them a chapter serf darling. I'm doing civilian darlings because 1) More fun 2) more terrifying

Harram the Wallbreaker let his heavy lumbering steps kick up the dust on the cracked and torn pavement. They had replied to a distressed signal from this agriworld and the warband needed another world like this to keep the war machine going. In the midst of a Drukhari attack. The night was cold and quiet... till he watched a number of humans turn their heads to the East. "What is it." His voice rumbles out of his terminator armor.

"This is the second night we've heard a baby cry. We think it might be a Drukhari trap as all that has been observed over there were unfortunate victims dying." A man said.

Harram huffed out causing a billow of steam to leave at the same time of his huff making his armor look far more alive then it was. "Has anyone checked?"

"No my lord."

He turned to the East and began the slow march. If there was an ambush waiting to happen Harram was certain he could handle it and if there was a baby there still alive then perhaps they were made of sterner stuff... like iron.

He walked past naked bodies chained to the ground in various states of decomposition. All of them chained to the ground with some xenos looking bear trap like contraption. He turned the sensitivity of the audials up and he could hear the faint crying. How it would pause then start up again.

He stopped in the mist as the crying soon turned to laughter and he pushed his armor's capabilities to the limit. "Shh Ferum... no more tears... I know you're hungry... mommy has nothing left to give." He could hear her weak hums as he slowly walked closer.

He sees her on the thermals first and scrolls through all of the different settings to get the full picture as he walks closer. He can see maggots in the lashes across her back, one leg encased fully in the xenos torture device, blood and a high degree likelihood of xenos sperm paints her inner thighs, he can tell starvation and dehydration are setting in for her, and he can tell her hair was recently cut in such a jagged motion. Harram suspects for a trophy or for other things worse should she have been found... entertaining enough for the xenos.

"Has the Emperor answered my prayers?" She speaks so softly as he watches her weakly turn her head. She ends up just rolling over, her watches her eyes close in pain as large grey eyes look at him with a tiny fist jammed into a small mouth. Ugly brusing paints her face, bite marks littering her breasts, less cuts on the front just far more bruising.

"No. He did not send me." Harram replies walking closer.

"You are one of his angels." She sighs in relief.

"I am not. I am something far worse." He tilts his head slightly thinking, "I am a devil... a fallen angel." He chuckles more to himself at his poetic nature.

"Still an angel." He sees her bloody smile. But he can see a look in her eyes ones of grim acceptance, "Have you come to save me? Or just take my baby?"

"Originally just for the baby." He notes the sad smile on her face as her eyes water and she just nods slowly petting his head. "But... I can take you too. What you will return to is not going to be the same."

"I've been changed by this... as long as whatever I return to is better than being raped by xenos I'll say that's an improvement." She bitterly laughs letting her tears fall. He watches the infant try to breastfeed once more. The exhaustion as Harram realizes the baby looks fed and hardly any exposure.

"I am going to contact my brothers to see how to remove this without removing your leg." He says watching her nod.

"Thank you dearest angel..."

Harram just sighed and talked with his brothers as he started to pull the pins in their specific order. He ignored the younger warrior's persistant asking of why he was even doing this. The child was more than healthy enough, simply take them and put the mother out of her misery... even if you ignored that they brought up the points of she would be in recovery for so long. Perhaps that was why Harram followed Endion he was considered sentimental amongst the Iron Warriors and left to start his own warband.

They all did not fit their genesires ideal vision of iron... but they were still of iron! He pulled a pin out to quickly earning a whimper from her throat as tears flowed from her eyes. "Please... I do not wish to be trouble."

"Do not speak mortal. I could have killed you if I did not wish to deal with this burden."

Esteemed terminator Harram. We have movement a few clicks north of you. It's the xenos!

Harram lifted his head as he heard her whimpers as she could hear the near silent thrum of their crafts. He pulled a decorative pelt from his shoulder off and covered her up with it. "Stay there. Do not move at all lest I crush you." He watched her pull her son to her chest and do her best to keep the infant safe with only her body to protect them. The pelt was to simply keep her out of the view of the xenos. "You will probably lose HEARING." He roared the only warning before the twinlinked bolter started throwing the explosive rounds down wind.

His leg joints locked in place, so he would be less likely to crush her and the babe. "Brother's I have started to engage."

"Are you being soft again, Harram?" He could hear Endion's warm voice suddenly connect to the vox channel.

He watched rounds connect with one of the small crafts as it was just a handful of the quick xenos. "No brother I am being like Iron!"

"What have you found then?"

"IRON!" The large chain sword slams down being lucky enough to catch one of them trying to run past and slice at his joints. He couldn't hear the infant screaming over the scream of the chains. He couldn't hear her broken sobs of begging to be killed then be hurt by them again. Harram was focused on the combat. "I have found Iron! I refuse to let them RUST!"

Harram has to unlock his legs to turn around and charge the cocky xeno. But his swings were too slow as the xeno was slowly peeling away sheets of ceramite. Not once during this exchange he thought that this was a tactical error... other brothers would see this as an error but then again they would also be as stubborn as he would be to claim the iron.

It screeched as he saw his Orichalcum, he questions not when he saw her as his, sitting up having thrown one of the knife like pins into it. The tired weak smile on her face is replaced by terror as she rolls to shield her child as it charges but that was enough time for him to slam into the xeno and start crushing it.

When he was done he turned to her watching her writhe on the ground as blood oozed out as in it's dying moment it must have activated the contraption. She looks up at him in pure pain as he pulls out his knife and watches it heat up. "Pray that you are made of Iron."

She bitterly barks, "I was an Iron worker!" She half screams, "I'm half metal shavings at this point!" She shrieks as he doesn't give her much time to think as he just removes the whole leg.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Iron was apart of her. His Orichalcum. And her son Ferum. He learned quite a bit about her during her recovery. She was an Ironworker and so was her dead husband. She had lost him before Ferum was born... meaning that Harram could focus his attentions upon her without any meddlers.

Endion had teased him about his fondness... but it had been so long since he found anyone he could call iron. Though Endion was hardly one to complain as Harram would find him stealing Ferum away and of course teased the warlord of entering his "nesting" phase again. To which he threatened to take his Orichalcum away... and Harram could only silently stew as he would not risk losing her to a far more... charming one of his bretherin.

"Oh hello Harri-ham." She said in a cutesy voice as she was busy feeding Ferum some baby food. "Sorry I was talking with him." She just say softly. Harram just huffed softly. "Hey Harram... I want to deeply thank you for saving my life and that of Ferum. I don't know how to repay you."

"You have no need to repay me."

"Well I was thinking that I should be good to go back home soon." She hardly noticed Harram stop in his actions of getting his own food before he turned around with a bowl in hand just shoveling some food into his mouth. "I don't want to be a burden on you any more than I already have."

"What of your nightmares?"

"I'm a big girl Harram I'll have to sleep alone eventually." She chuckles as whenever he has been in the room at night she ends up usually in his bed or asleep on the plush chair in his work room just afraid to be alone... or when the night terrors come back how he grounds her. And perhaps he had grown content with the small warmth in his bed... he had never understood while Endion would bring mortals to his bed.

Not till he had her under him begging for him to fuck the xenos touch away... to replace the repulsive feelings... to help her feel clean again. "What if I don't want you to go." Harram said a little darkly just watching her blink and look at him owlishly.

"I... I..."

"Just stay for a little while longer... I can help you get things ready for you to return to, yes?"

"Oh... alright." She says softly smiling at him not realizing that the simple goalpost of 'being ready enough to leave' would keep moving further and further... and he doubts she will complain... too much.

[cecilysass]

False Front

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic CW: suggestion of possible rape / sexual assault (from canon) written for the X-Files Flicked Switch Fanfic Exchange

He’s doing everything, every single thing he can think of, but Mulder’s getting nowhere and he knows it. He blusters around Skinner’s office, he fires off orders to the Gunmen, he drives back to her apartment and searches over every square inch. Of course he calls her cell countless times. You never know when she might be able to pick up.

It’s actually the cell phone that finally does it, that makes him give up on her apartment and go home.

He’s on the floor methodically sorting the contents of her wastepaper basket—tissues, an empty tube of makeup, two endearing chocolate wrappers—when Frohike calls and tells him that it appears that the signal never actually left her building.

He finds the phone in her desk drawer. Turned off. Silent. It’s devastating. All day it has been absorbing his diligent calls here in this drawer. Not anywhere near her.

Mulder closes the desk drawer slowly, observing absently that his hands are trembling. He locks up her apartment and walks out to his car. He’s been through this so many times now, a familiar refrain: she’s gone, maybe forever, he has to bring her back, he has no idea how. It only gets harder. Because one of these times they won’t figure it out. One of these times the worst is bound to come true.

It’s very important at this stage not to give in to his darkest anxieties, that fear and that dread. Keeping his face impassive helps; that’s an old trick, predating his partner. His mind can be an even more useful ally, and it’s straining to go into profiler mode, reaching out instinctively for every possible scrap of information he has.

On the drive to Alexandria he keeps mentally revisiting those emails, all that fabricated correspondence between the account of Dana Katherine Scully and this unknown Cobra. Those missives turned out to tell quite a tale.

I think about how much of a mark I could have left on the world, had I not ended up in the F.B.I., had I been free to pursue what I wanted.

I wish you and I could meet like normal people do, just have dinner, wine and challenging conversation. I want that so badly. I daydream about it.

You and I — we understand one another, don’t we? That’s so rare and beautiful. Often I feel like there’s no one in my life who really understands anything about me.

This isn’t Scully. These aren’t her words. It’s creative writing from someone else, likely C.G.B. Spender himself. The moment the Gunmen told him these emails existed, Mulder knew this.

Even so, the fabricated words get under his skin. They bother him deeply. At a fucking cellular level.

Maybe it’s that the smoking man doesn’t sound so far off? Maybe because little bits and pieces do sound eerily like something Scully could say—maybe, possibly, under the right circumstances. Mulder doesn’t like that. It makes her feel farther away somehow.

When the Gunmen said Scully had been writing to someone named Cobra, he’d so easily dismissed them. No. She would have told me, he’d said. That utter confidence haunts him now. Because even if he were right in this case, it turns out there’s quite a bit she hasn’t told him.

Mulder pictures Spender smiling to himself, typing away at home in a cloud of smoke, dreaming up this fictional romance between Scully and her Defense Department confidante.

He suspects the smoking man likes the idea of Mulder, his supposed son, uncovering this. He probably got some sick little thrill imagining Mulder discovering Scully’s tawdry secret online relationship. Look, Mulder, your loyal girl betrayed you. What an extra little zing that must give him. In addition to the heady exhilaration of murdering his son’s adored partner.

Mulder slams his palm down on the steering wheel angrily.

How could she go anywhere with him? How could she believe any word that came out of his mouth? Was she threatened? Blackmailed? What could possibly make it worth it?

He’s breathing much too fast. He takes a long, extended breath and releases it. No point in asking all these questions. There’s too much he still doesn’t know.

Something else keeps poking at his mind, though.

It’s the second time in just over a year that some would-be writer has presumed he knows Scully well enough to attempt to represent her inner life. That someone has been inspired to write the complex heart and mind of Dana Scully.

Such utter, arrogant bullshit. Why would anyone delude themselves that they could know Scully like this? What is it about Scully that makes men think they can read her? As far as Mulder knows, no one has ever understood her heart. Certainly not Phillip Padgett. Not C.G.B. Spender.

Not—all too clearly—Fox Mulder.

Mulder’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel, his knuckles going white as he tries to rein himself in. Thoughts, not feelings, he reminds himself. Mind, not heart.

*** At home he’s restless, because there is nothing productive for him to do there. No leads to follow up on. Nothing to do but wait.

He’s hungry—who even remembers when the fuck he last ate?—so he walks into his kitchen and bangs around impatiently looking for something to eat. There’s an unopened bag of bagels in his fridge along with a tub of sealed cream cheese. These items weren’t purchased with him in mind, which depresses him. But he’s got to eat something, and well, here they are. No point in passing out. He begins slathering cream cheese on a bagel.

The last time they had sex—the fifth time overall—was a little under a week ago. Here, his place.

She showed up at his door, that determined look in her eyes. No discussion, no words, exactly like the other times, a pattern Mulder finds both hot and disturbing. Sudden, fierce, take-no-prisoners kissing, the pulling open of clothing, the hitching up of her work skirt, a frantic fuck against his front door.

Afterwards she’d clung to his sweaty neck to catch her breath, and he’d buried his face in her rosemary-scented hair. He’d wept just a little—he couldn’t help it. The emotions involved are titanic, completely beyond his ability to cope with. It is amazing, everything, but something is off, too, and he doesn’t know what to do to correct the course.

He could tell by the way she tightened her hold that she noticed his tears, but she didn’t ask about them.

Much to his relief, she had changed into his tee-shirt, crawled into his bed and stayed the night—a first—leaving that rosemary scent behind on his pillowcase, plus several strands of copper hair.

The next morning they got up, dressed, had coffee, and discussed their case. Matter-of-factly. Like Mulder and Scully. Like nothing was different. Like she had dropped by for coffee before work. Like this incredible sex they kept having existed only in his imagination or in some alternate dimension. He didn’t ask any questions, and neither did she.

Now he’s got nothing but questions. He’s haunted by fucking questions. What if he never sees her again? What if she never eats any of these bagels he optimistically bought hoping she’d stay over again soon? What if he never has the chance to find out what she meant by any of it, what it could have meant if it had continued? What if it’s his fault she’s gone, what if it’s all because she’s been used as a tool somehow to get to him?

Not everything is about you, Mulder.

He sits on his couch and forces himself to focus on eating, polishing the bagel off in a few large ravenous bites. He licks every bit of cream cheese off his fingertips. He still feels hungry.

Brushing stray crumbs off his shirt, he remembers guiltily that he should update Mrs. Scully. When he called her the day before yesterday, to find out more about Scully’s nonexistent family emergency, she’d been worried—in her controlled, subdued way. Asking only basic questions—she’s been through this too many times, too. He’s only updated her once since, with pathetically little to go on. It’s probably time for another check-in.

When he looks at his phone on the desk, he practically jumps out of his skin.

There’s a flashing light. A fucking message. He leaps to his feet. How had he not seen it? Why didn’t he check his messages right away? What was he thinking?

He rushes to the button, presses it, waits.

“Mulder, it’s me.”

He stumbles back and falls into his desk chair in boneless relief.

“I’m on my way back. I’m coming straight to your place. I’m going to be about two hours. Will you ask the Gunmen to be there, too? I have something important to show you. Something I think could… change lives.”

She sounds all right, he marvels. Upbeat. Not like a recent victim. His shoulders droop in a release of tension, and he folds his hands over his forehead, taking a deep breath.

Not dead, not dead, not dead. The worst did not happen.

For a moment he lets himself just sit on the couch. Emotions pass over him like clear water through jagged rocks.

*** The thing is, he doesn’t know how to love Scully, and he assumes that’s probably the problem.

He knows how to feel. He has always been a proficient feeler of feelings. He feels all sorts of things when it comes to her in particular, a whole panoply of finely tuned emotions.

Love isn’t feeling. He knows that. He’s not the most experienced with love as a practical matter. He’s not been a big relationship guy in his life, and the love in his family, while present, hasn’t flowed as freely and easily as in other families. But he knows enough to know that love isn’t a question of emoting. He knows it’s a question of impact, of touch, of effect. Of every action having a reaction.

He knows it’s his actions that perpetually disappoint her. He’s painfully aware of that. She often needs him to be something, and he disappoints her. He can say all sorts of beautiful words to her. He can fuck her exquisitely, as he’s learned recently.

But he can’t seem to do what she needs. He can’t figure out how to love her. Not in the way that matters. Not in the way she can touch and discern and trust and rely upon.

Not in the way, he worries, that would allow her to really love him back.

*** He’s been carefully listening out for her, distracted even while the Gunmen are talking to him. So he knows she’s walking up his hallway before she gets to the door.

He swings the door open just as she raises her hand to knock.

“Mulder,” she says, her face pink, a trace of a smile. She looks uninjured and hopeful. She steps closer, and he knows she expects him to put his arms around her.

“The prodigal partner returns,” he says casually. He doesn’t step forward to greet her, and her eyes widen, betray a trace of worry.

Behind him, the Gunmen rise from the couch and stand in a tight trio in that way they always do, like they’re a chorus in a goddamned Greek tragedy.

“It’s good to see you alive, Agent Scully.”

“We thought you were toast.”

“Mulder was losing his shit,” Frohike adds.

“I’m sorry to make everyone worry,” Scully replies. Her eyes turn questioningly back on Mulder’s. He turns around brusquely to walk into the living room.

“Did you get the tapes, Mulder?” she says, following behind him. “I sent you tapes in the mail. Tapes I recorded of our conversations, from a wire I’d hidden on me. I’d expect them to be here by now.”

“I didn’t,” Mulder says, sinking onto the couch. He looks up and makes sullen eye contact with her. “I got a message on my machine about a family emergency. And a secondhand message from Skinner. That’s the extent of the communication I received.”

“I couldn’t communicate easily,” she says. “It was a singular opportunity. I was trying to get information out of him. I needed to get his trust, make him think I was accepting his story.”

Mulder slumps down further on the couch. It sounds somewhat understandable, like something he would do, but it doesn’t make him feel better. “And what was his story?”

Scully produces a plastic case. “It came down to this,” she says, holding it out to Mulder. Her voice is excited; her eyes light up. “I think this could actually be something significant. I got it from a man who went by the name Cobra.”

Mulder doesn’t miss Frohike and Langly exchanging knowing glances. He doesn’t take the case from her hand.

“Yeah,” he says. “We’re familiar with Cobra. A man working on a shadow project for the Department of Defense. Your email account has been having a somewhat flirtatious relationship with him for the past six months. You set up an in-person meet-up with him recently.”

Scully is taken aback. She eyes the Gunmen, and then gives him a significant look. “Mulder.” She drops her voice. “You know those emails weren’t really from me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” he replies. “There were a lot of feelings revealed in those emails. Didn’t really seem like you.”

Frohike clears his throat. She presses her lips together and holds out the small square case to Langly. “This disk,” she says to the Gunmen. “Please see what’s on it.”

Langly takes it from her hands, nodding, and the three Gunmen begin to huddle around their computers.

Scully hesitantly moves to sit next to Mulder on the couch, her eyes on him.

“If I’m right,” she says, “then everything that’s happened these past few days will be more than worth it, Mulder.”

“Your death wouldn’t have been worth it.”

“That’s familiar,” she replies back tightly. “Only usually it’s me who says it to you.”

He can’t answer her. Actually, he finds he can’t even look at her, even though he knows in his heart he’s being unfair.

“I had to take the risk.” Her voice has hardened.

He swallows and rises to his feet, pacing to release some pent-up energy before settling in the door, clinging to the door frame while the Gunmen work.

After a moment, the Gunmen look at one another awkwardly.

“There’s nothing on this,” Frohike mutters.

“It’s empty,” adds Langly.

“Completely.”

“No.” Scully springs from her seat. “It can’t be,” she insists. She bends over to look at the computer, as if somehow she will be able to conjure something the Gunmen can’t. “It can’t be. It’s got to be on there.”

Langly looks embarrassed for her, Byers openly sympathetic.

Mulder can’t help but make eye contact with her now. She’s looking back at him as if afraid of his reaction, and he knows that should bother him.

He can only stare at her in silent frustration, gripping the door above him.

*** They sit around his table and listen to her tell her story.

He can tell Scully’s rattled, but she makes a game attempt to hide it. She speaks in her very best authoritative agent voice, as though she is making a report to Skinner. She sticks to the facts, offering very little commentary, but she keeps repeatedly licking her lips, pushing her hair behind her ear, her most obvious nervous tics.

“I didn’t understand exactly what he wanted,” she says. “But I thought there was something to be gained by playing along. Seeing what I could find out.”

“Something for him to gain, maybe,” Mulder says. “Cobra’s trust.”

The Gunmen’s eyes bounce from her to him.

“I think there was more to it than that,” Scully says emphatically. “He seemed to sincerely want to convince me. It’s why I thought he… it’s why I believed the disk was real.”

There is a painful silence. Langly doesn’t seem to know where to look.

“It’s funny, it’s like he imagines himself to be a kind of silver-tongued Richard III,” Byers comments thoughtfully. “Convincing his own Lady Anne to bend to his will.”

Scully rotates to look at him. Frohike raises his eyebrows.

“What, you guys don’t know your Shakespeare?” Byers says. “The villain who uses charm as a weapon? Richard III? ‘Was ever woman in this humor wooed?’ It’s a famous—”

“I know it,” Scully cuts him off sharply. “Richard’s charm works on Anne, Byers. Spender’s did not on me.”

Mulder bites back what he wants to say: didn’t it, though? Didn’t you do everything he wanted you to? He must not be hiding his thoughts as well as he thinks, because Scully, glimpsing his face, flushes.

He suspects Byers is right, that Spender imagines himself a kingly mastermind, using Scully as a pawn to be easily moved about. Like she’s some early modern female character in a Shakespearean tragedy, passive and at the mercy of men.

“Mulder, I went to his office,” Scully says forcefully. “We can go there right now. You and me. There could be evidence there.”

Both of her fists are clenched. He can practically feel her desperation crossing over into anger, radiating off of her in waves. If there’s anything he knows about his partner, it’s that she never wants to have been anyone’s pawn—anyone’s passive placeholder—ever again.

“Yeah,” Mulder says softly, meeting her eyes. “Okay. Let’s go.”

***

She asks him to drive, and she calls out the instructions to him in a resolute, crisp voice. As she does, he steals glimpses at her in the passenger seat. She doesn’t notice, looking ahead, her posture stiff and straight.

He suspects his standoffishness is starting to seriously piss her off. He doesn’t himself quite understand why he’s still so intensely angry with her. He wishes he weren’t. It’s like he’s experiencing a powerful torrent of emotion, an opened fire hydrant, and he can’t stop.

“If someone offers you valuable information,” Scully says to him out of nowhere, pronouncing each syllable very clearly, “you have to pursue it. Even if you’re not sure it’s entirely reliable. You have to find out. You know that.”

Mulder is quiet.

“Is this the cold shoulder, Mulder?” Her voice sounds bitter. “You’re very fortunate that’s not how I chose to respond to every one of your in-the-moment miscalculations.”

“Why would you not tell your partner, Scully? Why keep it a secret from me?”

“I told you, he didn’t want me to,” she says tightly. “He told me the offer was only good if I didn’t.”

“Really raises some questions, doesn’t it?” Mulder asks. “Why would he want to separate you from your partner? What does offering you the cure for the world’s diseases have to do with me?”

“I sent you the tapes,” Scully says sharply. “I didn’t listen to him. You act like I had no agency.”

He laughs darkly. “You had exactly the amount of agency he wanted you to have.”

She sucks in air. More and more pissed off. Still, she has to be able to see, doesn’t she? He wonders if she really believes they will find evidence at Spender’s office, or if she’s only clinging to that idea to protect herself.

“He knew he didn’t entirely have me,” she comments decisively after a pause. “He tried everything to get in my head. He even attempted a little pop psychology, and he did it badly.”

“Oh yeah?” Mulder says, risking a look at her. “What kind of pop psychology?”

“Let’s see.” She tilts her head and recites facetiously. “I’m attracted to powerful men, but I fear their power. I keep walls up. I’m devoted to you on one level, yet I live alone. I’d die for you, but I won’t let myself love you.” She gives him a scathing look and turns to gaze out the window. “Cosmopolitan magazine level insight, really.”

“Sounds like it,” Mulder says gruffly. If she’s intentionally lobbing a grenade, it found its target. His mind is spinning trying not to read into these statements, trying not to parse what parts she’s insinuating are ridiculous.

“He’s like anyone else, Mulder. He has weaknesses.” She gazes straight out the front window. “Whatever else is true, I’m sure of that much.”

“We all have weaknesses,” he mutters tightly. “Which is why we have partners and we don’t just … go off on our own.”

She turns and fixes him with a slow, deadpan look of disbelief. She doesn’t even need to say it. They both know perfectly well what a patently absurd thing that is for him to say to her.

With an exasperated shake of her head, she turns back to the passenger window.

In the silence that follows, Mulder contemplates the impressive depths of his own hypocrisy.

If he’d been approached in the same way, with the promise of some information he’d wanted badly, he knows he would have gone, too. He knows he would have because he’s done exactly that sort of thing before.

He just has this tendency to hold her to a different, only-for-Scully standard. This isn’t the first time he’s done it. It’s actually an embarrassing pattern.

Sometimes, he expects her to be more rational than he would ever ask himself to be. He expects her to be more prudent than he ever is. He expects her to leave aside her personal biases when his are woven into the fabric of their entire work.

Why does he do it? Is it because of their respective genders? Does it come from his deep feelings for Scully, his overwhelming desire to keep her safe? This all might factor into it and affect his professionalism, but he thinks it comes down to something more.

He’s come to depend on Scully playing a certain role in their partnership. And when she veers off course—makes him guess—it both delights and unnerves him. She plays the same familiar theme in their shared duet, the perfect counterpoint to his, the well-matched half of their mutual composition. If she suddenly seems to go solo, to improvise, to take up the fucking sitar or the ukulele or something, he doesn’t always cope well.

He glances over in the car to look balefully at the back of her head, still intently focused out the window. He can’t keep her in a box. He’s probably held her back for too long.

Then he thinks about Spender’s fucking emails, his fucking pop psychology, getting Scully to board some goddamn boat to meet some man for him.

Come on. This road trip with the smoker isn’t her pushing her limits. It’s not her spreading her wings. It’s her possibly getting killed. It’s beneath her. It’s just … stupid.

He suppresses the urge to slam his hand down on the steering wheel again. Next to him, she sighs.

***

What was once set up to appear to be Spender’s offices is now a completely empty building. Mulder is faintly surprised. He thought maybe it would turn out to be a legitimate office building who’d unwittingly played landlord to a liar. He thought they’d find a bunch of bewildered receptionists and cubicle dwellers who responded in confusion to their questions.

Instead, the whole thing turns out to be a mirage. Empty room after empty room. Everything and everyone evaporated into thin air.

This is an elaborate ruse just for Scully, he ponders, staring at an abandoned pad of sticky notes on the floor. Spender spent some money on this sham. Why go to all this trouble and then leave the most important loose end alive? It sends a shiver down his spine.

Scully is upset, of course, and he’s trying to be more understanding. She’s making it hard. She sounds unacceptably, uncharacteristically credulous, like she’s never even heard the word “skepticism” before in her life. It’s grating on him.

“Mulder, I looked into his eyes. I swear what he told me was true,” she says stubbornly.

“He did it all for himself—to get the science on that disk,” Mulder’s voice is taut. “His sincerity was a mask, Scully. The man's motives never changed.”

“You think he used me to save himself—at the expense of the human race.”

“No, he knows what that science is worth, how powerful it is. He'd let nothing stand in his way.”

“You may be right... but for a moment, I saw something else in him. A longing for something more than power. Maybe for something he could never have.”

Mulder wants to yell at her that that’s complete horseshit. He wants to take her shoulders and shake her and ask her what the fuck is wrong with her. But he exercises some restraint.

“And what is that something he can’t have, Scully? Compassion? Redemption? You really think, after all this, he cares about any of that?”

She wraps her arms around herself in a protective gesture, looking up and down the walls of what had apparently once been his false office. Her back is to him.

“Aren’t you the same person who once told me ‘the truth is out there, but so are lies?’” Mulder pushes. “Where’s that Dana Scully?”

She walks to the window and stands in front of it, still hugging herself and looking out into the afternoon light. From Mulder’s vantage point she looks only like a silhouette, an outline of herself.

“I get it,” she says after a heavy beat. “I see what you’re saying.”

Now there’s a melancholy timbre in her voice, a sound of defeat. He hears it rarely, for all of their struggles, and he doesn’t like it.

She doesn’t turn away from the window. Her head tilts forward until her forehead rests lightly against the glass.

“I was duped, clearly,” she says, her voice expressionless. “Please. Can you just take me back to your apartment so I can get my car and go home?”

*** On the drive back, her face is as inaccessible as a marble statue’s. For a while she shuts her eyes, but he knows she isn’t asleep.

“Hey, are you hungry?”

“Not really,” she says, stretching her neck from side to side as though it is sore.

“You sure? When did you last eat?”

“I don’t feel like eating, Mulder.”

“You’re a little pale.” He refuses to sit in silence.

“I’m tired,” she says with a tone of finality. “I didn’t sleep very well last night, thinking about the sunrise meeting.”

Mulder nods in an attempt at sympathy, sending her repeated sideways looks. Something in what she just said nudges at his thoughts, bothers him.

“The meeting with Cobra was at sunrise?”

“Yes,” she says shortly.

“But you didn’t come back to my apartment until one,” Mulder says. “It’s not that long a drive.”

She shifts in her seat, apparently attempting to get comfortable. “No.”

“You didn’t come straight back?”

“I made another stop,” Scully says evasively.

“Another stop? For a few hours?”

“Yes.”

Her lack of communication is again making him angry.

“Where could you possibly go between here and Milford, Pennsylvania?” He knows his tone is too nasty. “Philadelphia?”

She exhales sharply. “Do I need to account for all of my time now, Mulder? And is that little rule going to apply to you, too?”

“I was looking for you,” he snaps. “I was worried sick about you. Where would you go before trying to call me?”

“To the hospital,” she replies hotly.

His head spins to look at her. “Why?”

“Just to get … something checked out.”

Every muscle in his body seizes up, alert. “To get what checked out?”

She pauses. “I had them do a rape kit.”

He swallows, aware that his heart is pounding loudly in his ears. The sides of his vision begin to narrow until he can only see a tiny fragment of the road ahead. He starts pulling the car over, guiding the car into a grocery store parking lot.

When he has safely maneuvered them into a spot at the back of the lot, he turns to face her.

“Why did you have them do a rape kit, Scully?” he asks quietly. His voice is shaking.

She’s meeting his eyes, but her face is difficult to read, a complete mask. “They didn’t … find any evidence of anything.” She extends her fingertips and meticulously picks a piece of fuzz off of his sweater. “We had been in the car, driving for many hours, and I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was in different clothes. Pajamas. In a bed. Obviously, it unsettled me, and I kept thinking about it, so … a rape kit.”

He’s ashamed at how badly he’s reacting, how frightened he is to the very core. He knows that it’s her who should be comforted. He tries to calm himself, reaches out and clasps her hand.

“Scully,” he whispers.

“It had been close to 36 hours at that point,” she continues in an even, formal voice. “So, as you know, that affects the quality of the forensic evidence. I did bring the underwear I was wearing, just in case.”

“Oh Jesus,” he says. He feels physically ill. “Scully.”

“I don’t think anything happened,” she adds. “I went just because I kept thinking about it, but I didn’t think his agenda was…” She drifts off, bites her lip. “I admit that I wonder a little more now.”

They’re both too familiar with the process of testing for forensic evidence of rape and sexual assault. A thousand possible scenarios pass through his mind. He knows they have passed through hers, too.

“They found nothing?” he whispers.

“A small fragment of latex in my clothes … concerned them,” she says softly. “But it’s latex from latex gloves, and you know… I have lots of latex gloves. It could have easily come from my car, from the autopsy I did earlier in the week.”

“Scully,” he says urgently. “You could have called me. In the hospital. I would have come.”

“It’s… okay, Mulder. It was very likely nothing.”

“You thought this was possible,” Mulder says, in a sudden explosion of feeling, “and you stayed? You stayed in that house with him? Anything could have happened, he could have…”

He stops himself, seeing her expression. “I’m so sorry,” he says, instantly penitent. “I’m so sorry.” He leans over and presses his cheek into the palm of her hand. “I know why you stayed. You needed to finish the job.”

“You would have done the same?” Her voice sounds unexpectedly small, like someone else’s.

It doesn’t happen to me in quite the same way, he thinks. Sometimes ex-girlfriends attempt seductions when I am down for the count. Sometimes my brain is violated with surgical knives. But it’s not like this. Not like this.

“I would have,” he promises. He scoots over as far as he can in the car seat and tentatively threads his arms around her, pulling her against his shoulder. “I imagine you know this,” he says roughly, “but I have to say it, especially because I’ve been such a dick to you since you came back. None of this is your fault. You were trying to find out all you could. So you could do the right thing, like you always do.”

“I know, Mulder,” she says, her voice a soft whimper against his shirt. “I know, but I should have known better.”

“We can’t always know better,” he replies into her hair. “We take risks, and sometimes they pay off, sometimes they don’t. We can’t second guess. It’s the job.”

She pulls her face back to look at him, and her lip is slightly trembling. “I think I wanted to believe him,” she says. “I wanted it to be real, because if it worked, it would mean everything we’ve gone through all these years would turn out to have an actual impact. Would turn out to have real meaning after all. I could make it all make sense.”

He thinks about that: his little Catholic, wanting so badly to turn her suffering into redemption.

“Listen, of all people, I understand that,” he says, swiping her tear away with his finger. “I know all about wanting to believe.”

“And it felt like he was approaching me seriously,” she says in a hushed voice, like it’s a dark secret. “As an adversary, an intelligent mind. The way he deals with you.” Practically in a whisper. “It–it probably flattered me more than it should have. I’m embarrassed about it.”

“Scully—”

“No,” she says quickly, her face flushing. “It’s true. He’s always seen me as …a test subject. A lever used to motivate you. A chess piece. And he was talking to me like I was … a player. Mulder, he must have known how I’d respond to that.”

She’s so ashamed of this tiny manifestation of pride, this smallest and most sympathetic of vanities. Mulder runs his thumbs lightly up and down her jaw bones.

Her voice is low and terse. “And this possible touching thing, thinking about it now. This dress he had me wear...” She peters out in disgust.

Mulder’s insides are churning. Holding firmly to each side of her face, he pulls it close to him, so he can stare closely into her pale eyes. “I’ll kill him, Scully,” he says hoarsely. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

He can so easily imagine doing it— the satisfaction of killing Spender. Extinguishing the life out of the man’s arrogant eyes, the surprise as he realizes he’s lost, that he can’t do whatever he wants after all.

Scully, eyes wide and glacial blue, shakes her head almost imperceptibly from within his hold on her cheeks. And he understands, from his experience of her in hundreds of different situations and hundreds of discrete moments, exactly what she’s trying to communicate. That doesn’t help, Mulder. That’s not what I need. This isn’t his story to write.

“Okay,” he says gently, lightly pushing her hair back from her face. “Okay, yep, I get it. I won’t do anything unpredictable right now.”

“Thank you.” She exhales, tilts her head down.

He tucks a lock behind her ear, his mind racing. “What if we left your car at my place?” he asks. “I could take you home. We could pick up some food on the way. You could get to your bed faster that way.”

She looks up to him, her expression guarded. “And what about you?”

He hesitates, wondering what she wants him to say. Every moment of physical intimacy they’ve ever had has been initiated without words; he doesn’t have a precedent of using language to approach it. He decides it’s safer not to assume.

“I could take a cab home,” he suggests politely. “Or call the Gunmen and ask them for a ride. You might want some peace and quiet.”

Her expression scarcely changes, but he can tell from the smallest twitch of her mouth that it was the wrong answer.

He opts for another approach. More direct.

“Or … I could stay with you,” he offers.

She lifts her lip just a fraction. It could be the beginning of a smile. “Hmm,” she says.

“I, uh, like that option best,” he adds. In for a penny, in for a pound, he supposes. “Because you’ve been gone, and I’ve been worried and what you’ve just told me worries me, too. So it would make me feel better to be around. That’s usually comforting to me, and, uh, I hope it is to you, too.”

Her eyebrows raise. He hopes that his unbearable awkwardness is at least coming across as sincere.

“I appreciate that, Mulder,” she replies.

“It’s up to you, obviously.”

She turns to face the front windshield, nodding slowly. “Why don’t you drive to my place?”

*** She doesn’t cry again. But that night, she tugs him into her bed with her and wraps her limbs tightly around him, pressing her cheek against his chest.

“I’m sorry you were so scared,” she mumbles into his shirt. “I would have been scared, too.”

“If I did something uncharacteristically rash like run off and get myself lost at sea, you mean?”

“It’s not outside of the realm of extreme possibility.”

“Hey, you said you saw something else in him,” Mulder says. Part of him doesn’t want to bring it up, but he worries Scully is still torturing herself with self-doubt. “You said he was wanting something he could never have.”

She’s quiet a beat. “I was probably deluding myself.”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I was just thinking—he’s always spinning webs of lies, always writing this bullshit involving the lives of other people, setting up false fronts. Sometimes it must occur to him that he doesn’t interact with anything real.”

“Yeah.”

“I wouldn’t want that,” Mulder says softly. “Maybe you perceived him having a moment of … clarity. That nothing in his world is genuine.”

“If he even cares about that,” she says dismissively. “Like you said. There’s no reason to think so.”

“You said you saw something in his eyes,” Mulder points out. “That’s a good enough reason. Your perception, your judgment. I don’t doubt that.”

She lifts her head and stares at him for a moment, her expression enigmatic. Then she kisses him gently on the lips, the fingers of one hand moving slowly through his hair. He tries not to tense up, but she’s never kissed him like this before. In this unhurried, tender way.

She then lays her head down right below his collarbone—where she can probably hear his heart thumping quickly—and he curls his arm around her.

“I would die for you, you know,” she says. “He was right about that much.”

He knows what she’s referring to, Spender’s claim into her psychology. If his heart wasn’t racing before, it is now.

“I know,” he murmurs. “I know you would. But I would never want you to.”

“He wasn’t right about all of it,” she adds.

I love you, too, he thinks. And to show her, he draws her in, ever closer.

[peachymilkandcream]

Written In Blood|Part 13|Modern Yandere Levi x Evelyn

WARNINGS: noncon/dubcon, graphic descriptions of violence, domestic violence, manipulation, mind breaking, yandere behaviour/themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, wishing rape upon someone, misogyny, mentions of child abuse, blackmail, revenge porn, murder, etc.

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

Levi stumbled back as she brought the book down on his head, trying to catch himself on the bedside table and falling.

Evelyn was more adept than he thought, she kicked him in the stomach while he was down and ran out the door.

She furiously ran through the apartment, trying to find the way through the maze to the door. She was disoriented, this whole time she had invited him into her home so he could learn the ins and outs while she had never once step foot in his own apartment.

All of his doors were closed so she couldn't easily see in and move on. She heard footsteps behind her, coming fast and strong, she had to wait until he passed.

Evelyn ran into a room and shut the door as quietly as she could, it was dark inside, but a steady drip into what seemed like porcelain indicated she was probably in a bathroom. Meaning there could be bigger and heavier objects to attack with, like the top of the toilet. She could do this, she could escape, she had written and researched so much about murder and kidnapping that she was confident she would be the one who wouldn't become a victim.

Footsteps came closer and stopped in front of the door. Evelyn held her breath, hoping he didn't hear the panicked gulps of air she was taking in. Hopefully he would just move on and she could slip out behind him and go a different way.

"I know you're there. I'll give you five seconds to come out willingly, or else I'll have to teach you a lesson."

Her heart pounded in her ears as he spoke through the door. Not wanting to reveal herself in case it was a bluff, and he was going to go to every door and say that hoping she'd take the bait.

After the allotted five seconds passed he spoke again. "Have it your way."

Suddenly she heard the door lock, sealing her inside. She went to the door and tried it but there was no way someone dehydrated and weak like her could open it by force. What little strength she had left and adrenaline had forced her through his hallways, but now that she had stopped it was drastically leaving her.

"You had better be more willing when you come out."

The light suddenly flipped on, making her squint and blink while she still tried the door, his footsteps fading as he walked away.

As soon as Evelyn turned her eyes took in the dripping sound.

And then she screamed.

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

Levi smirked as he heard the blood-curdling scream. It seems his little project had found Stephanie, the hooker who he had brought into his apartment a few days ago as a celebration for the transition into his new life. He had gotten a tad lazy and forgot to dispose of her, but now the psychological torture of spending hours alone with a corpse would bring Evelyn around.

While he heard her cry Levi sat down at his computer with a light snack while scrolling through the fuel he had added to the scandal fire.

He had completely changed the narrative from Evelyn being a cheater, manipulator, horrible friend, to a victim of slander.

Some even hoped that Levi and her would get together and start dating after surviving the trauma of being so attacked.

His smirk grew wider, it was all falling into place. Now even his relationship pursuits had public backing, as if that were his sign that it was meant to be.

Levi couldn't help himself, he laughed and laughed, not believing his luck. Especially when he saw Petra's name flash on his phone when she sent him a text.

"Oh...what now-"

When he read her message, his smirk just grew wider.

[samynnad102687]

Two-way mirrors...

@struttingstag

March 8th Prompt: Two-way mirrors | 1415 words

Warnings: NSFW (not explicit)

It was Friday night and James expected a big crowd at the club. He and Regulus opened up the sex club last year after they discovered a new kink. They were both turned on from being watched or watching others. James also found out from Sirius that a lot of people would pay to see others having sex or just exploring their kinks. So, Fantasies and Fetishes was born and had been very lucrative for both of them, not that they needed the money to begin with.

The club offered a lot of different services such as beginning BDSM classes for beginners and a safe environment for the more experienced, roleplay rooms, and impact play rooms, just to name a few. On the third Friday of every month, James and Regulus put on a show behind a two-way mirror.

"Are you ready for tonight?" James asked as he was looking at his outfit in the mirror.

"Yeah. It'll be interesting to see what people suggest tonight."

"Is there anything that you are hoping for?"

"I don't know. It's been a while since anyone suggested me topping you."

"You say that as if you didn't already do that last night."

James turned to face Regulus, who was still sprawled out on the bed, to find him smirking with a mischievous glint in his eye. He was up to something. James knew that but he was debating on if he wanted to know now or just wait until it happened.

"Do you think we'll get a decent crowd?" James asked instead.

"Probably. Barty really wants to try out the stripper pole and Evan told me that he plans on secretly recording it when he falls as if we don't have cameras all over the club to catch it when it inevitably happens." Regulus shrugged as he slowly toed down the sheet that was over his middle as if James didn't catch the movement as soon as it happened.

"If you keep doing that, you won't have any energy left for tonight."

"Oh, I'll have plenty of energy left for tonight," Regulus remarked seductively as he pulled the sheet father down to expose his already hard cock.

"You're insatiable."

"What? Afraid you can't keep up?" Regulus taunted and James stalked towards him before he flipped him over on the bed.

***

James and Regulus walked into the club at half five in the evening to start setting everything up and have a meeting with the rest of the employees. The club opened at nine but the show didn't start until eleven. When James pulled out the suggestion box they kept by the door for what people might want to see, it was already full and James felt that familiar tug behind his navel. He started sorting them based on who it was for and the kink involved.

Regulus walked into the room a few minutes later. He had already changed into his outfit for the night and he was downright gorgeous, granted there wasn't a single moment that James didn't think that of his husband.

"Anything good tonight?"

"Yeah. There are a few that I had to throw but most were fine," James said easily.

There were a few things that he refused to do in front of an audience. Rape scenes were one of them and there was always one suggestion for it in the box without fail every time. He also wouldn't attempt any kink out for the first time in front of an audience. He and Regulus talk about and try everything at home first to see if it is something they could consider. Not everything makes the list.

"Any that you want to try out at home?"

"Not at the moment but you can look if you want to," James said as he pointed to the stack on the table.

Regulus looked through the pile and pocketed a few. James could probably guess which ones but he would ask him later. Regulus turned back towards James and had that mischievous smirk again and it was getting really hard to ignore.

"What are you planning?" James asked when he couldn't ignore it anymore.

"Me? Nothing." Regulus shrugged nonchalantly. "Don't you think you should go get ready?"

"I am ready."

"No, you're not."

"Oh." Well, that didn't help his curiosity.

James went to change and prepare while Regulus finished setting everything up. It was half eight and the club would be opening soon. They had a lot of employees on tonight. Did James and Regulus hire a bunch of their friends? Yes. How could they not when said friends practically begged to be a part of the club?

***

"Welcome to Fantasies and Fetishes, where nobody is shamed for and can explore their personal kinks in a safe environment," James announced when the clock struck ten in the evening.

"If this is your first time, you can wander and see if anything tickles your fancy or you could ask our lovely Lily, over by the stage, if you have any questions." James pointed to Lily and she waved. "If you have been here before, welcome back. We have an interesting evening planned for you all, but until then, have fun and explore. The show will start at eleven and we will take suggestions up until then. Thank you and enjoy."

The crowd dispersed into the different rooms. James and Regulus decided to wait a few minutes before they left the floor. Regulus wanted to see if Barty was actually going to attempt the pole while the club was open. James may or may not have suggested that the beginning of the night would be a good time to try. He may or may not have also bet Barty that he couldn't do it in front of an audience. Sure enough, five minutes later, Barty was climbing onto the stage in a barely-there outfit and fucking stiletto heels. And just as Regulus predicted. He fell within the first two minutes.

***

Regulus was laid out of the bed as James faced the two-way mirror at eleven o'clock. The mirror was the full length of one wall and there were little rooms on the other side to give the viewers privacy while they watched.

"Welcome to the show," James announced like he was the ringmaster of a circus. "Remember that just because you made a suggestion, doesn't mean it will occur tonight. Everything that we do here is safe, sane and consensual. So sit back, relax and enjoy the show."

"Ready?" James asked quietly when he turned back to face Regulus.

Regulus nodded and gave him that mischievous smirk again with the glint in his grey eyes. James crawled onto the bed before he started to leave a trail of feather-light kisses up the length of Regulus' body, undressing him as he went. Regulus moaned quietly when James made it to his neck and James sucked bruises into it. Regulus arched his back and as soon as James was right above him, he wrapped his legs around James' waist and flipped them over in one fluid motion.

"Your turn," Regulus whispered as he ran his lips along the shell of James' ear and started undoing the buttons of James' shirt.

Regulus slowly made his way down James' body, removing clothes and leaving kisses before digging his nails into James' hips as he pushed him down into the mattress. Regulus sucked him into his mouth for a second before he popped off with an evil little smile. James groaned and tried to pull Regulus back to where he wanted him but he knew what that smile meant. He was in for a long night.

Regulus crawled back up to James' ear and whispered, "Colour?"

James whimpered before he said, "Green," and Regulus guided his arms to the top of the bed before locking them into place with the handcuffs attached to the headboard. James tested them out to make sure they wouldn't come off doing their scene and just like every other time Regulus tied James up, they were secure and he moaned again at the pull behind his navel.

Regulus got off the bed and disappeared through the curtains, leaving James exposed and aching. Not even thirty seconds after Regulus disappeared, James' hips bucked when the anal plug started vibrating. James had honestly forgotten which one Regulus set out for him to wear. This was definitely going to be a long night and James couldn't be more thrilled.

Also posted on Ao3: Welcome To The Show

[chuuyajacksonsfedora]

Care to Dance?

The Ink black pen scribbled viciously against the paper as Chuuya tried to finish the reports of his and Dazai's last mission. Why was he doing the reports that he and that bandage wasting bastard were meant to work together on you may ask? Well the only reason he ever does anything for Dazai of course! ...he lost a bet. But that damned bet was rigged from the start and the worst part is that Chuuya knew it. Despite always knowing Dazai's true intentions he never fails to run into the brunette's twisted schemes head on. Chuuya should really just accept the karma of the situation and finish this last report. 

" Chuuya~!"

At the sound of that disgusting ear rape excuse of a voice Chuuya couldn't help but grip the pen tighter and cringe.

" That damned mackerel," The ginger gritted his teeth in utter annoyance.

" As I can see, you're happier than ever to see me. Though you see me almost everyday it never ceases to amaze me how your eyes glisten with passion whenever I come into your field of vision." Dazai seethed as if he were a spilled barrel and toxic acid was spilling from that shit talking hole he calls a mouth.

" Annoying prick!" Chuuya screamed as he launched the pen he was gripping across the room as if it were a bullet.

Dazai easily dodged the pen causing it to pierce the wall behind him.

" Ah, ah, ah, Chibi~! That's not how you greet your partner after he walked all the way across the hall just to deliver a special message." That waste of space sang in a cheery voice. 

" Just get to the fuckin' point, I don't got all day." The shorter male huffed.

" As you wish, we have another mission." Dazai hummed emotionlessly.

" Haah!?!?" Chuuya slammed his fist on the table.

" Well come on then, slug. 'We don't got all day'." Dazai mimicked.

Chuuya wanted to punch this boy through three walls and he very well could. But the boss's orders are absolute.  

︻デ═一 ......✿ڿڰۣ—...... 一═デ︻

During the car ride Dazai and Chuuya poked and swatted and bickered with one another. Chuuya was normally angry with the social outcast but today he was especially furious. The bet consisted of how many people they could get to buy them drinks. Chuuya was openly gay after finding his true sexuality during his first encounter with intercourse. Let's just say that Dazai pawned him into agreeing to sleeping together on the condition that he let Chuuya top first. So obviously Chuuya was hitting on guys. Some rejected him but most didn't. Dazai on the other hand surprised Chuuya in how easily he could switch the roles and get women to buy him drinks. Chuuya was soon losing by a landslide and was about to give up when a young man came and sat next to him at the bar. The young gentleman had golden waves of above shoulder length hair and emerald eyes that shone brighter than emeralds themselves. His lightly sun kissed skin all but glowed under the dim light of the bar. Chuuya remembers the moment vividly. 

" You look pretty young." The boy that seemed to light up the bar hummed.

" Speak for yourself." Chuuya looked him up and down, seeing that he couldn't be any older than himself.

" Ooh, you got me there." He laughed. Man, his laugh was heavenly. " So then tell me, stranger. How old are you? Surely not old enough to be sitting in this bar right now."

" You caught me I guess." Chuuya smiled as if he couldn't help it. " likely around your age."

" Around my age?" The boy grinned.

" I'm a man of secrets, what can I say?" Chuuya shrugged.

The boy covered his mouth with his hand as he laughed into his palm. " You're quite the comedian."

" Really?" The orange haired males eyes glistened.

" Man you're adorable. Do you not get compliments like that often?" 

No, no Chuuya didn't. And that one compliment left Chuuya smitten.

" No, I don't." Chuuya muttered honestly.

" My name is Aurél, and who might you be Mr. Mysterious?" Aurel's smile glowed brighter than the brightest of stars.

" Chuuya, my name is Chuuya." Chuuya was lost in a trance as he stared into those beautiful eyes.

" Chuuya you say? Quite a unique name! But it suits you. It reflects how unique of a person you are." Aurel's gaze was soothing...gentle even.

" How can you tell?" Chuuya's eyes twinkled.

" I can always tell. Just as I can tell that, who I hope is your friend, is giving us a death stare." Despite Aurel's declaration his gaze remained soft.

Chuuya was pulled out of his trance with a raise of his own brow as he turned to see Dazai glaring at them. Aurel specifically. 

" Dazai?" Chuuya was puzzled.

" I need to see you in the bathroom for a moment?" Dazai's undertone screamed malice and anger.

" Yeah, yeah, in a moment jackass." Chuuya growled.

" I wasn't asking." If Dazai's glare was already cold then now it turned to dry ice.

Chuuya's eye widened as he got up without another word and walked to the bathroom.

After waiting a while the push door opened revealing the tacky bastard.

" So what'd you want, Dazai?" Chuuya asked.

" Nothing really." Dazai's eyes held something deep within but Chuuya couldn't put a finger on it.

" Huh?" After a moment of silence Chuuya 'tsked'  and walked out of the bathroom. 

When Chuuya made it back to the bar counter Aurel was gone.

" Damn it." Chuuya hissed as he looked around the bar but still the boy was nowhere to be seen.

With a sigh Chuuya walked out to the alley for a smoke. With the faint yellow burn of his lighter he could see something sticking out of the dumpster. Assuming that it was a trash bag he walked over and slightly opened the lid to push in the bag but...it wasn't a bag.

Rage coursed through Chuuya's veins as he screeched louder than a banshee.

" DAAAAAZZZZAAAAAIIIIIIII!!!!!!!"

" You'll have to walk the rest of the way from here in order to ambush them." Chuuya heard the chauffeur say as the vehicle came to a stop.

Without a word Dazai opened the door and got out as Chuuya said a small 'thank you'.

No matter how Chuuya tried to ignore the feeling of raw anger it still wouldn't go away. By now Chuuya should know that he can never keep the people he cares about. And he didn't even know Aurel long enough to care about him anyway. But what if he did get to know Aurel? What could have happened between them. Would they be great friends or something more? Chuuya has always been hung on the idea of what could have been and right now was no different.

" Walk faster! Man you really are a slug!" Dazai whined as he bounced along up ahead.

Chuuya just kept quiet and walked a little faster. maybe he could take out all his anger on the organization that they had to wipe out.

︻デ═一 ......✿ڿڰۣ—...... 一═デ︻

Soon the two mafiosos arrived at a clearing in the woods. A small shed sat in the center of the clearing. That very shed was assumed to be the entrance to the secret base. One way in, one way out. Insufficient really. 

" I'll go first." Chuuya said as he floated a foot off the ground and walked on the air as he made his way to the shed. 

There didn't seem to be any traps set so Chuuya raised his hand as if to signal to dazai that it was all good. Once successfully inside the base two guards ambushed them in the narrow hallway.

" Only two? You guys must be low on staff." Dazai laughed.

" Only kids? The port mafia must be desperate for guys." One of the guards sneered.

" Yes! We hire kids! Do you want us to put up flyers?" Chuuya yelled as he used the back wall to propel himself at the guard who insulted them, punching his square in the jaw. 

Chuuya then spun around and roundhouse kicked the other guard. Chuuya moved so fast that the guards couldn't even process their thoughts fast enough to shoot him.

" Let's go!" Chuuya yelled after Dazai as he ran down another corridor.

Dazai watched as Chuuya made these guys drop like flies. He always thought Chuuya was beautiful. Sure Dazai called women beautiful all the time but Chuuya's beauty was far different. Never has dazai ever seen a woman as ethereal as Chuuya. This small boy with the ugly hat held beauty that not even the gods possessed. Dazai thought that Chuuya's imperfections were exactly what made him so perfect. He was so perfectly human. It doesn't matter what all the truth and facts tell Dazai, Chuuya is human. More human than himself. And Dazai is human after all, but Chuuya was far more human than any human in this world. His loyalty and emotions held no bounds. His intention was always written on his sleeve.

Dazai always loved to sit back as Chuuya released all hell on those that stood in his way. The red of his ability reflecting the anger and ambition within him. Not to mention his Chuuya's eyes...Dazai didn't have things like 'favorites'...that was before Chuuya. The day Dazai and Chuuya met. Oh, Dazai won't forget the way those icy blue eyes glared down at him. Ever since that day Dazai's favorite color was blue. Blue was the color of the sky, the color of sorrow, the color of sapphires... and the color of Chuuya's eyes.

" Done day dreaming, Mackerel?" Chuuya yelled.

Dazai was ripped from his thoughts by that disgustingly mesmerizing voice. 

As the two made eye contact it was like lava and the ocean came together. As if a demon and an angel connected for the first time. Like fire grazing the petals of a bluebell flower. Then it was as if a bomb went off. No literally.

The explosion killed all of the remaining men and the blast caused Chuuya fly into a wall. As the smoke from the blast began to clear two large doors opened and out of the smoke stepped a tall man that glowed dark green.

" Did you think our agency would go down so easily?" The man asked.

" I did, actually." Chuuya was down on one knee as his face seemed to cloud over. Chuuya's grin was plain sadistic. " But I was hoping that wouldn't be the case!" With that Chuuya lunged forward ready to punch the man in the gut but his fist was stopped.

" Wha-"

Chuuya groaned as he was visibly hit with some sort of invisible force that seemed to taze him.

Dazai didn't even think. He knew where this was going. The man was going to do the same thing that all measly wanna be gangsters do. Hurt Chuuya and threaten Dazai for information. Dazai wipped out his hidden pistol and shot the man three times in the head. He then ran and caught Chuuya in his arms.

" As much as I love to watch you suffer I don't like seeing you get hurt for nothing." Dazai whispered.

" Bastard..." Chuuya muttered in a small daze.

" Come on, Chuuya~. Our job isn't done." Dazai sang.

The two made their way down the next hallway to see a shrilling sight. The hall led to what seemed to be a conference room but in that room was a meeting. What's so scary about that? It was how they seemed unfazed. And the fact that three men hung on the wall as if they were decoration. The members in the meeting turned to see Chuuya and Dazai. 

" Kill them." Said who Dazai assumed to be the head of the meeting. 

Immediately bullets and chairs were flying. Not to mention that the knife that Chuuya rarely used was making heads role. These guys came off as all that but really, they suck. They were also a horrible shot. Dazai dodged their bullets with ease and soon all the men were dead. Now all the duo needed was the info they had on other organizations. 

Chuuya followed behind Dazai as he made his way around the underground hideout. Soon they came upon a small room. In the room was a radio and some equipment. Dazai let out a hum as he picked up the radio. He had an idea.

" Follow me, tiny." Dazai said.

" Who're you calling tiny damn it! I'm still growing!" Chuuya protested. Even so he followed right behind.

Dazai kicked the door to the conference room back open and pushed what remained of the table out of the way.

" The hell are you up to, Vagabond?" Chuuya asked.

Ignoring him Dazai continued with his work. Setting up the radio he soon reached a convienent station and grinned to himself. Soon the radio started to hum with life and a song began,

♫'To cut down on my silhouette, My favorite foods are smoke and hearts, My leftovers fret, forget stiletto self-vendettas, While my cracking backbone lacks but backs up my false starts,'♫

" Care to dance?" Dazai turned around to face Chuuya.

" What the fuck are you going on about, Dazai?" Chuuya's facial expression contradicted his words as a light pink dusted his cheeks.

Dazai just grabbed Chuuya's hands. With one of Chuuya's hands on Dazai's shoulder and the other with his fingers laced with Dazai's they came together in a waltz. The two boys danced over dead bodies and pools of blood. The smell of gunpowder and fresh blood bitterly filled their senses to a point where they could almost taste it. Soon that smell turned into malodorous flesh. Even so the partners continued to dance. A sickeningly sweet dance of the dead. Or dancing among the dead to keep it in better terms. 

" You seem a little more fed up with me than usual." Dazai spoke with interest.

" You're the smartest and stupidest person I know." Chuuya sighed.

" I'll take that as a compliment." Dazai muttered.

" A compliment..." Chuuya remembered. " Why'd you have to kill him. Why did you have to kill Aurel?" 

" What makes you think that I killed him?" Dazai frowned. He wasn't fooling around, it was a real question.

" I know that it's something a sick bastard like you would pull. But why to him?" Chuuya looked almost as if he would burst into tears.

" I predicted that he would take you away from me. I watched as he made you smile and laugh in ways that I never could. And he did it all in the first few moments of meeting you too. And for you to mourn his death as if you've known him for years? I couldn't stand it. I still can't stand it. I knew that you would get to know him. The two of you would have become good friends and I wouldn't doubt for a second that you two would become more. I saw a connection with the two of you and I could only dream to be in his place. Now he's dead and I'm dancing with you." Dazai's eyes weren't empty. A hint of jealousy could be seen within the embers. 

" Well you didn't have to kill him." Chuuya glared.

" Who's to say that you two wouldn't find each other again?" Dazai said.

" What are you trying to say?" Chuuya's glare could make any grown adult wince.

" I hate you, Chuuya. My anger angled towards you is endless. I can't stand you giving your attention to anybody that isn't me. Whenever you smile at someone or let them touch you it makes me feel a strange adrenaline that comes with the urge to kill them. The urge to leave you with no choice other than to be mine." Dazai was dead serious.

" Dazai...insane piece of shit. Such a sick bastard." Chuuya's eyes widened as if they weren't dancing like a newly wed couple over dead corpses.

" Sick? Yes, that's another way I feel about you. I get this sick feeling whenever I touch you. It makes me want to see you laying beneath me begging. Or in my arms crying. I want to be there to witness all the human emotions you have to offer. I want to hear how raw your voice sounds after you've screamed my name far too many times to count. I want your body in my hands and your lips on mine. But then I also want to watch you fail again and again all because I know that you'll keep going just because you don't know when to stop." Dazai babbled on and on about some insane shit but all Chuuya was hearing was,

" I love you so much, it's unhealthy." 

" You love me?" Dazai blinked as if none of this was real.

" Do you love me?" Chuuya asked.

" No, you're a man. This strange feeling is nothing but pure hate. Though this is the most emotion I've ever felt..." Dazai's eyes sparkled as he had the urge to bite those light pink lips.

" Then I hate you too, Osamu." Chuuya glared. But this glare held pure desire.

A desire that matched Dazai's. A sick twisted desire that had them clawing at each other's clothes. A desire that had bitter metallic tasting blood running down Chuuya's bottom lip. Blood red was always a beautiful color on Chuuya. Instantly one hand was tangled painfully in the orange locks, the other gripped Chuuya's ass. Dazai left a trail of bright red marks down Chuuya's neck. All Chuuya could do was cling to the brunette and writhe under the sucking pressure over his pulse point. 

" Want me inside you?" Dazai asked out of breath.

" More than you know." The ginger was already out of breath. 

That was all Dazai needed before he began jerking Chuuya off. The rough feeling of Dazai's hands as he thumbed Chuuya's slit had the ginger's eye rolling back in pleasure. The brunette leaned down and took Chuuya's cock into his throat as if it were his last meal.

" Dazai!" Chuuya gasped.

When Chuuya was close he pulled his mouth off of him and started to pump his dick at a fast pace. Multiple strings of a soft white substance started to paint Dazai's palm and Chuuya squirmed and gripped Dazai's wrist as he was milked of his cum.

" This is our lube so relax, Chuuya." Dazai's fingers prodded at Chuuya's entrance and he felt a shiver down his spine.

Dazai started with two fingers to speed the process but soon four fingers were inside of the petite mafia. 

" Hurry the fuck up, bastard." Chuuya sighed as the fingers that massaged his prostate were pulled out of him soon replaced with Dazai's dick.

Chuuya hissed at the pleasurable pain as the thick cock intruded his tight walls. After a moment Dazai started off slow and gradually began to speed his pace. It didn't take long for the sound of skin meeting skin and the sound of groans and the occasional moan to fill the room. The tight squeeze of Chuuya around Dazai was one of the many feelings that drove him crazy. He wanted everything the ginger had to give. He wanted to own every part of his body. He wanted to do everything in his power to make him his. Dazai's thrusts quickened in pace as Chuuya's nails raked down his back. Nobody but himself and Chuuya would see those marks. As for Chuuya...Dazai wanted everyone to see who owned the little dog. Chuuya was his and he would dispose of whoever said otherwise.

" You asshole! I need you to-ngghh~!" Chuuya moaned out as his prostate was hit head on.

" Need what, Chuuya~?" Dazai grinned.

" Do that again!" Chuuya cut his own words off with a gasp of ecstasy before he continued. " But do it faster. I want you to bend me 'til I break."

" As you wish," Almost taking it litteraly, Dazai threw both of Chuuya's legs over his shoulders and leaned forward creating the perfect angle to hammer into Chuuya's sweet spot.

" Holy fuck!" Chuuya screamed out as his grip on Dazai tightened along with his insides.

Dazai groaned at that and went faster, chasing after his release. Chuuya was clearly almost there with how he tensed and moaned. Just a few more perfectly angled thrusts. One, two, Chuuya had his nails dug into Dazai's shoulder as he threw his head back and mumbled shit that even Dazai couldn't make out. Then,

" Osamu, I-!" A broken and unrestrained moan ripped from Chuuya's throat.

" The sound of your voice makes me get a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. You disgust me." Dazai insulted the chibi though he knew exactly what Chuuya was trying to say and he was right behind him.

Then Chuuya was pulling Dazai into a sloppy and violent kiss as ropes of hot sperm painted their chests. Dazai on the other hand released inside of the small ginger. 

Dazai started to leave more marks on Chuuya during the after glow and beamed at him,

" I hate you so much that it's unnecessary." Dazai kissed the bloody bite mark he left on Chuuya's shoulder.

" I hate you to an extent that I won't kill you all because I want to watch you suffer." Chuuya smiled.

[prettygirlsincorporated]

your jokes were terrible, you know that right?

fandom: criminal minds

paring: jj x reader

warnings: mentions of rape, typical criminal minds violence. uh a little angst but it gets better.

w/c: 1k+

A/N: here it is! i’m so so tired so eat up! it was originally gonna get so angsty, but it’s all around just fluff! - 🧸

You really didn't understand how you'd gotten your job as a technical assistant, you started off as an intern for the BAU but Penelope decided to take you under her wing, showing you everything she knew. You picked it up easily, knowing a little more about certain areas than her.

Which is how you ended up here, being the technical assistant. You'd go on cases with the team, working with Penelope to figure it out as she stayed in her bat cave. You were an incredible asset to the team, and they all loved you.

They were your family, your friends. Of course they all had their respective cliques, some closer to others, which is how you and JJ were. From the start you've felt a spark with the blonde, she slowly became your best friend. Someone you'd seek out in a crowd full of people, someone you'd call when anything went wrong, someone who was always there for you.

That's why it didn't strike you as odd when she started doing smaller things for you, getting you coffee, getting you snacks, always sitting near you. It was the small things that she'd do that would brighten your day. Everything she would do you saw as a friendly gesture, emily and derek had done the same thing to you.

Derek would often walk up with your favorite order and a small “hey mama” or “hey pretty girl” and so when JJ started acting like this it never struck you as odd, until she started every morning with a pickup line. Everyday without fail there'd be a new one, as soon as you'd walk in the bullpen.

It started off with innocent ones for the first few weeks, and it progressively got more sexual. You were confused at first, not knowing how to handle the flip your stomach would do when you heard her voice ring through the bullpen when you stepped in, or how your brain would short circuit when it was a hard case and she'd hold your hand anytime she could. You convinced yourself it was just her being friendly, but you couldn't deny the overwhelming feeling of joy every morning you'd hear her say her usual line.

As soon as you rode up the elevator, entering the office you heard her clear her throat and you tried to bite back a smile. “If I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put U and I together.” she said it with such a cocky, shit eating grin that you couldn't help but stifle a laugh as Derek chuckled walking over to you with a coffee. “Did you know that statistically more words in the alphabet start with the letter S than any other letter?” Spencer said as he spun around in his swivel chair, stopping when Derek flicked him on the head. “Ow!” Spencer whined pushing his chair off with his feet, away from Derek. “What was that for?” He pouted, you walked over giving him a kiss where Derek had flicked him. “There, all better spence.” everyone chuckled as you sat down at your desk, everyone expect a certain blond.

You'd been too busy setting your stuff down to notice jj’s change in demeanor when you had innocently placed a kiss to Spencer's head, a form of showing him compassion, but Jennifer didn't seem to think that. You only noticed the falter in her smile when you went to ask her if she wanted more coffee, seeming as she was nursing a near empty mug. You saw the tension she'd been producing, the clinch in her jaw as she declined your offer, not looking you in the eyes. Maybe she was jealous? No, she couldn't be. This was just meaningless flirting, right? Thats what you told yourself as you sat back down, only to be interrupted by hotch coming out of his office looking over all of you.

“We have a case. No go bag needed, it's local.” you all groaned as you walked to the briefing room, sitting in your respective spots. “The unsub is killing women around the DC area. He breaks into womens homes, rapes them and then kills them with an ice pick.” Hotch spoke explaining the case as he flipped the slide show to show what we were up against. “Did you know, in 1998 Danny Paul Bible confessed to killing a string of women with an ice pick after raping them? Could it be a copycat?” Everyone turned their attention to Reid as he talked about the killing, before hotch spoke up. “We don't know yet, y/n and jj, go to the medical examiner, Emily, Derek and Spencer go to the crime scene. Me and Rossi will speak to the families.” you all nodded as you headed out to an SUV getting in the passenger seat as jj opted to drive.

Car rides with her were usually fun, you'd flirt as you talked about anything and everything, but today was different. She kept her gaze fixated on the road as she gripped the wheel, not speaking. You were going to break the awkward silence until Peneolpe called you both, filling you in on information.

“Hey sweet cheeks, got that sexy brain of yours workin?” you chuckled as you noticed jjs grip on the wheel got tighter, as you responded. “Always for you, my dear!” giggles ripped from her as she exchanged information, bidding you a farewell as you and Jennifer kept driving.

“jj, what’s wrong?” you could tell something was off but she didn’t want to tell you, just absentmindedly shaking her head as you arrived at the M.E’s office, getting out of the car, walking next to each other.

you talked to the M.E and headed to the precinct, driving in yet again silence. “Jennifer, what’s wrong?” she didn’t like when you used her full name, she knew you knew something was wrong, so why wouldn’t she tell you? she glanced over at you, seeing your pleading eyes as you searched for any sign of what had happened to make her so pissed off. “Jennifer! I'm talking to you, please, can you tell me? I care about you!” she just shook her head yet again, speeding up as she drove to the police department.

she avoided you all day, never once acknowledging you unless she had too. it was weird, different, you missed her witty comments, the winks she’d throw your way. you missed when she’d hold your hand if you were anxious. Why did you miss it? it wasn’t fair for her to just take it away.. but i guess she didn’t owe you anything..

you wrapped up the case and headed home, you opted to drive with derek instead this time. Apparently everyone notices jjs personality shift, because as you were riding home Derek decided to ask you about it. “hey mama, why’s your blonde so upset? you guys get in a fight or something?” you simply shook your head and turned the other way, facing out the window as a silent sign to not ask anymore questions.

the next day you’d walk in, you’d hope for a usual pickup line, but you just saw her stare blankly at you and go back to her paperwork. if you said it didn’t hurt, you’d be lying. Have you done something? had you made her uncomfortable? Did you cross a line? all these thoughts ran through your brain as you sat down at your desk, avoiding the gazes that seemed to be on you and jj.

of course there was no case today, you’d had to be stuck with her in a small space. you tried to work on your paperwork, but all the thoughts of jj were running through your brain. would this damage your relationship forever? had you fucked this up? you really fucking wished she’d tell you what was going on so you didn’t keep guessing, wondering what you possibly could have done to fuck this up. deep in thought, a voice broke you out of your trance. “y/n, will you come see me in the briefing room?” you noticed the familiar voice without even looking, jennifer. Was she finally going to tell you what happened? maybe tell you that she didn’t want to be friends with you ever again?

you silently followed her up, closing the door behind you as she sat down on the table, looking at you. “look. y/n, i like you. i have, all my flirty comments, hand holding, everything, it was me silently telling you I liked you. When you flirt with someone else, I can't handle it. It was a joke at first, a thing to pass time, but eventually I realized how I felt. when you talk to penelope like that, god, i can’t handle it. i want you to be mine, and only mine.” you stood in front of her jaw probably on the floor as you stared into her piercing blue eyes who tried to avoid your gaze. you giggled as you walked over to her, putting your arms around her waist as you slightly tugged her so she was standing. she leaned in for a kiss, pulling away as you stifled a laugh. “what’s so funny?” she said with a smirk. “your jokes were terrible, you know that right?” she smiled, lightly slapping you on the arm as she nodded. “that was the point! they’re cheesy pickup lines for a reason!” she pulled you closer to her, holding you there for a moment just relishing in the fact that you were finally hers.

[aussiepineapple1st]

Omg!!!!! What if you do a chreon story where Leon is home along waiting for Chris to get home when an intruder breaks in and attempts to rape leon but in the process they break shit and glass is everywhere but eventually pulls a gun on leon telling him to get on his hands and knees??? But just as Leon is about to get raped Chris comes in!!! And the intruder points a gun at Chris and threatens him but Leon sees a piece of glass on the floor and stabs the guys leg then Chris just absolutely goes fucking physco beating the crap out of the guy while Leon is screaming at him, trying to pry Chris off the guy "Stop Chris that's enough! Your going to kill him!" And Chris says "He fucking deserves it after what he tried to do to you!" Then Leon says "but he's not worth it! Please Chris I can't handle you going to jail!" Then Leon just whimpers out and Chris stops at the sound to turn around and hug and kiss Leon, making him feel better before calling the cops??? 😭

I don't have to do anything. You basically wrote the whole thing for me🤣 This is also not really my type of thing so I'll do my best.

Overpowered

Chreon / Leon x Chris

Words: 1,517 Contains: Rape(no penetration), Blood, Angst, NSFW, Comfort, Whump.

Leon was finding it hard to sleep at night. The "interview" he had with the government and the wound on his left shoulder, as well as all the other cuts and bruises didn't help the situation.

It was starting to get late so he had decided to try and get some sleep before Chris came home around midnight. He had returned from his "Holiday" in Europe only 2 days ago, having to stay late at his new headquarters as they figured everything out to move the STARS Units to a new area.

Starting to drift off to sleep, finally. He had heard a noise, pulling him from his sleep once more. After what happened Last week in Raccoon City, he had been on high alert with every small sound. He hears footsteps walking through the house, opening his eyes he looks at the clock. Chris would normally arrive home between 11:55pm and 12:10am, the time currently was 11:49pm. Was Chris early?

Leon sits up with a wince, his right hand reaching to his left shoulder as it ached. The fresh bandages he had dressed himself after his shower soft under his touch. He listens to the footsteps, they were quiet, doors opening gently as if searching for something. This wasn't Chris, and if it was, he would be able to defend against Leon easily.

Sliding out of bed, Leon makes his way to stand beside the door. Making sure he was beside the hinges so when the door opened he would be hidden. He wasn't very strong at the moment, tired, injured, weak. So he had to find something to use as a weapon.

The door opened beside him, slowly and unsure. Leon kept his gaze on the door as it opened, his hand reaching for anything it could beside him. Trying to be silent, all his hand could find against the wooden dresser that sandwiched him between the door was an umbrella. The figure emerged from behind the door, that definitely wasn't Chris. This man wasn't as big as Chris was, but he was definitely bigger than what Leon was.

Waiting for the best opportunity he silently raised the umbrella and brings it down onto the intruder. It connects with his back and head, only stunning him as he steps forwards. Turning to Leon a scowl on his face that turns to a smirk as he saw the shirtless, bandaged young adult in front of him still holding the umbrella.

"Was that it?" The man teased.

Shit... Leon was weaker than he had thought he was, this wasn't good at all. He goes to attack the man once again, but the umbrella was grabbed. Eyes widening Leon didn't have enough time to react as the man's heavy boot connects to Leon's stomach. Sending him into the long mirror hung on the wall. "AH!!" Leon lets out a shout of pain as the mirror shattered.

"Who does the bad luck go to?" He said trying to peel himself off the ground. A boot meets his gut once again sending him into the wall, knocking the mirror onto him. Shards scatter everywhere as Leon throws the mirror at the man, trying desperately to get away. A boot was placed in the centre of his back, pushing him from his hands and knees onto the ground.

"You." The man replied to Leon's rhetorical question he had asked himself out loud. Leon hears the all too familiar sound of a handgun being cocked and the cold metal barrel being placed to the base of his skull. "On your knees." The man demanded.

Leon had to listen or he was going to be shot, so he got to his hands and knees, lifting his hands from the ground with his hands out in surrender. "Uh uh.. Hands on the ground.." Leon frowns, but obeys. He then hears the sound of a belt buckle. What? Oh no.. Was he..?

Kneeling down the man pushed his hips against Leon butt, he leans over, dragging the gun from the back of Leon's head to press hard under his chin. "You know... I never expected such a cute young man to be in this house." He grabs Leon's hair tight and rips his head back. Leon grunts out through gritted teeth. "Lucky me."

Leon could feel his face flush of all colour, beads of sweat began running down his forrid and temples as his hair was released. The man's hand running roughly down his back, snaking around to his chest, pressing against the wound on his shoulder causing Leon to growl out in pain.

"Such a pretty noise."

"You're fucking sick!" Leon spits out, a hand reaching to grab at the hand on his chest. Trying to pull it away he stops when the gun pressed harder into the soft flesh under his jaw.

"No you don't.." The man chuckled with demand. He pushed Leon to the ground by thrusting his hips hard into Leon's arse. Leon falls to his chest with a thump and chink of mirror shards under his cheeks and chest. He lets out an "OOF!" before he's forcefully rolled to his back.

Gun held hard against his throat the man pulls out a knife and sticks it in the fabric of Leon's trackies. Cutting a decent sized hole in them he sheathed the knife and rips the hole larger, exposing Leon's right thigh, hips and groin.

"Hm.. And here I thought I was going to have to go through another layer." He comments on how Leon wasn't wearing any underwear.

"Shut the fuck u-ghk!" Leon's wind pipe was closed by the gun pressing hard into his throat.

"No talking or I blow that pretty li'l face off." He said reaching down and grabbing Leon's exposed penis.

Leon's body jolts at the unpleasant feeling of being grabbed, the man's rough hands pulling and fondling with his manhood. Tears prick at his eyes as he lets out a choked sob, his face scrunching up.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!!!" Shouts a familiar voice. Chris had seen the front door ajar and when he entered the house he had heard Leon's voice followed by and unfamiliar male.

Chris didn't have his gun on him, left in the car and hadn't gone back for it. He needed to get inside to Leon as soon as he saw someone had broken in. He steps closer to the man who pulls the gun away from Leon's throat and points it at Chris, sizing the man up now standing in the firing line of his gun. "Don't move or I shoot you then this one!"

Leon's hand feels around on the ground, grabbing a shard of the mirror he grips it tight as he rapidly drives it into the man's leg that straddled him. The man cries out and Chris takes this opportunity to kick the gun from the man's hand and tackle him to the ground. Leon rolling out of the way so he wasn't crushed under both men.

Chris had the man on his back, wailing on him with a fury of punches to the face. Leon stares in horror as he stands to his feet.

"Chris!! Chris STOP!" He pleads, a hand holding his own wounded shoulder. "You'll kill him!!"

Chris stops for a moment, fists still clenched tight, dripping with the fresh blood from the man's now broken nose and cut cheek bones. "He deserves it for doing this to you!!"

Chris punched the man another time. "Chris Ple-AH!!" Leon clutched at his shoulder, falling to his knees in pain.

This stopped Chris immediately, hearing Leon in pain he climbs off the man now hanging onto consciousness, kneeling in front of Leon. "What's wrong?" He was worried the man had done Leon harm.

Chris noted the fresh cuts all over his back from the mirror, the bullet wound seeping through the bandage on his back which means it would be doing the same on the front. "My... Everything hurts." Leon grunts out as he leans into Chris.

Leon grabs the shirt on Chris' chest as he held onto him tight. His body was trembling from pain, adrenaline, how weak his muscles were and scared of what had just happened. "I can't have you go to jail for manslaughter!" He sobbed into the other's chest.

Strong arms wrap around Leon's body, being careful not to cause any more pain than what his body was already feeling. Chris looks to the blanket on the bed and pulls it off, wrapping it around Leon gently. Picking him up in his arms Chris sits him on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry, I just... I lost myself." Chris says pulling out his phone from the pocket on his right hip and calls 911. "The police can deal with him."

Leon looks to the bloodied man on the ground then pulls the blanket around him closer, laying down on the bed. Chris sits beside him, a hand rubbing circles on his thigh to try comforting Leon.

"Yes, I'd like to report an intruder in my house."

🏷️: @phoenix666stuff @maehemthemisfit @greywardensaywhat @growingupnrealizing @starcrossedreaders

[skzhocomments]

THE WHITE LILY (Mafia Book #1 - Bang Chan) - Chapter 4 - The party and the after party

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

General masterlist

Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

Let me know if you'd like to be on the taglist for this story!

---

Chapter 4 - The party and the after party

chapter word count: 2k words

"This will sting for a bit."

"So you're implanting the mic and a tracking device under my skin?" I asked Seungmin.

"That's right. We don't know what they'll do to you once you get kidnapped, so it's safer to do it like this instead of having a normal microphone. Now, can you take that off?" he replied, pointing at my blouse.

"Damn, Sky, I didn't know you were so straight forward. If you wanted me naked you could've said so!" I joked, making the younger roll his eyes.

The equipment SKZ Mafia had was pretty impressive. The devices Seungmin was going to implant were no bigger than 1cm, and he made such a subtle incision that I barely felt it.

"Hey, can I talk to you privately?" Chan entered the room and looked into my eyes.

"I'll leave you two, then." Seungmin nodded.

"I just wanted to talk for a bit before we head out... We don't know what is going to happen to you. They will probably spike your drink, which you have to drink. They could even rape-"

"It'll be okay. Just come in time, and nothing bad will happen." I replied confidently.

"... Just try and be safe. Cautious. Okay?"

I don't know what it was that made me trust Chan to come "rescue" me. Maybe it was the fact that he chose to spare my life, offering me a way out of my former Mafia.

But would it be wise to keep trusting him?

~

I made sure to wear the shortest leather skirt one could buy and a matching crop top, topped with a small leather jacket that would fit just right with Chan's outfit.

"Here comes the slut." Hyo said, rolling her eyes as soon as I walked into the kitchen.

"The best there is." I winked at her, making her more annoyed, if that was even possible.

"Don't listen to her. You look amazing, Emilia." Jeongin complimented me reassuringly, looking me up and down.

"Thanks Foxie." I smiled, noticing Chan entering the room out of the corner of my eye.

"Ready? Time to go, then. The sooner we finish this, the better." He gestured at me, and we left, riding a motorcycle together.

~

The wind was blowing through my hair, and Chan's speed made me hang on to his waist tightly.

I loved the way his body felt under my touch. Despite not wanting to, I felt these butterflies the first time I touched him as well, and frankly, I was scared of it.

The motorcycle came to a halt when we reached a red light.

"I don't understand why Hyo's such a bitch to me." I complained.

"Eh, she'll warm up to you in no time. She's a nice girl, you'll see."

"You keep saying that, but... I don't know, Chan, I just have this bad feeling when it comes to her..."

"Stop that. I know she's been mean to you, but she's very important to me and to the group. Even if she's younger, she's still a senior when it comes to our mafia, so please try to respect her, mkay?"

For some reason, Chan's words stung more than they should've, and the knot I had in my stomach about Hyo only became tighter.

~

Club 64 was very loud and crowded. The music was blasting, hurting my ears and reminding me of why I've never liked clubs.

As soon as we made our way inside, me and Chan started dancing, grinding on each other like there was no tomorrow.

The plan was to make it obvious to everyone that we are together, so that's how we spent our first 30 minutes: dancing, kissing, and sharing small intimate moments in between the sensual songs. I knew we were attracting all the right attention; we were quite literally a power couple.

Then, just as planned, Chan made his way towards the men's room, and I started flirting with random strangers.

I found a victim quite easily, and he gave into my advances quickly. Not to brag, but I am pretty damn good looking. The short skirt also helps, I'm sure.

Again, just as planned, Chan returned from the bathroom and noticed me grinding on another guy. With a furious expression, he stormed to us and grabbed my wrist, screaming obscenities at me. Things such as: how could I cheat on him, he was only gone for 10 minutes and I'm whoring around with a random guy etc. You name it. The classical.

He was a good actor.

And I was, too.

I started sobbing, begging him to forgive me, telling him it would never happen again, that I was just waiting for him to come back, but he was having none of it. He shoved me aside and left me behind.

Stage 1, completed.

~

Seemingly heartbroken, with tears in the corners of my eyes, I headed towards the bar and pouted.

"Such a pretty young lady shouldn't be so sad." A man said, sitting down next to me and caressing the small of my back.

I raised my head and looked at him. His hair was sleazy and brushed back, and the grin on his face looked way too forced.

Is this him? I wondered, and started feeding this stranger my sob break-up story. He was eating it up like a warm pancake on a rainy morning.

"It's just... I can't believe my boyfriend left me here. I can't help checking people out and wanting to play with them a little while at the club! I mean, that's why we came, you know?"

"He doesn't know what he's missing out on! Besides, you're right, a little fun can hurt nobody, right?"

"That's what I'm saying!" I exclaimed and sighed loudly.

"How about you let me get you a drink? I guarantee that you will definitely feel better afterwards." He winked.

"Cheers to that!" I grinned, and soon enough, a glass of some bitter liquid was placed in front of me.

We chatted for a bit while I drank it, but it was becoming more and more difficult to comprehend his words, his hand on my thigh getting heavier.

~

What the heck is this?

I opened my eyes slowly to a completely dark room, my head pounding with pain.

How long was I out for?

Without intending to, I let out a groan.

"Are... are you okay?" a small, trembling voice spoke behind me.

"Fuck... where are we?" I asked.

"I... We... don't know..." The girl started sobbing quietly.

"Shhhh." Another tried to silence her. "We should stop talking. He will come here again if he hears us." She continued, in a loud whisper.

"How many of you are here? And who is he?"

Just as I asked this, the light turned on, blinding me in the process. The door opened shortly after, revealing an unknown man wearing a three-piece suit.

"Here they are!" he smirked cunningly. "My baby dolls! How are you feeling today?" he said cheerfully, walking around the room and looking at us.

My eyes were quick to adjust to the new source of light in the ceiling that gave me the perfect chance to look around the room. I didn't realise how cramped up we were. The room wasn't big, it was completely white and had no furniture at all.

2, 4, 6, 8, 10

I started counting the tied-up girls in my head

12, 14, 16, 18

And, of course, me.

Stage 2, completed. Now I just have to let SKZ know.

"What the fuck is this?!" The man winced in disgust, looking down at one of the girls. "How dare you make this mess here, you fucking bitch?!" He shouted, making me turn my eyes to him.

I quickly identified the source of his repugnance: the girl's white gown was growing red from what I assumed was her period.

"I-I'm so sorry, sir! Please forgive me!" she cried but was soon silenced by a loud slap across the face.

She started sobbing louder after registering what had happened, and he continued kicking her with his foot until she could no longer make any sounds.

My vision got clouded with rage, but there was nothing I could do. My hands were tied, literally.

Observing the other girls carefully, I noticed how none of them seemed surprised by his sudden outburst. Not only that, but also most of them had some sort of mark, either around their eyes, a busted lip, or bruises on their arms and legs.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" the man walked slowly towards me between the girls on the floor when he was done throwing his tantrum.

"You must be the new addition I was told about. How cute." He grabbed on my clothes and forced me to stay on my knees. Bending down towards my face, he grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him, examining me attentively.

Up-close, I could notice a small tattoo of two crossed knives on his neck.

What an ugly tattoo, I thought and stifled in a laugh.

He was inspecting my whole face, until he brushed his thumb on my lips.

"You're a good one. Beautiful. I might just keep you for myself. But I bet you'd bring some good money in, don't you think, sweetheart?"

Who did this bastard think he is?

"Look at you, being all obedient and not saying anything. Acting better than the other bitches here, aren't you? They just kept crying and crying and crying! Blah, blah, blah! Annoying as fuck! But you? Damn, maybe I should really keep you. I would treat you so well, just like a princess." He smirked.

Me? Obedient? Tsch.

I let a smirk escape and then spit at his face.

His expression changed instantly to what could only be explained as pure rage. He stayed silent for a bit, probably contemplating on what he's going to do with me.

"Cat got your tongue?" I mocked him, feeling slightly amused by his sudden silence.

He was quick to react to that one though, as his right hand flew full force towards my left cheek in just a second.

I can't lie and say that the impact didn't hurt. It did. And it kept stinging as blood was forming inside of my mouth.

"Shut the fuck up, you bitch. What, you've seen I was nicer to you and decided to try your luck?!" he shouted, his anger rising by the minute.

But since I was such a bitch, I couldn't help it but play with his ego for a bit longer.

"Ooh, look at you! Such a respectable man!" I smirked. "Can't get no bitches unless you tie them up in your pretty playroom? All 19 of us, too."

Stage 3, completed. SKZ, please hurry.

The man hit me again, making me wince in pain. However, I kept my signature smirk and continued egging him on, hoping to at least divert his attention for good from the other girls in the room.

"You can keep hitting me all you want. Just imagine how sad this sight is. The only way for you to make anyone listen is when you beat them up. Especially an innocent girl such as myself. You're the man, really."

He wrapped his hands around my throat and pushed me on the floor, strangling me, but in response I let out a giggle, muffled up by coughing up some of the blood in my mouth.

This show seemed to last a bit too long, though, which got me impatient. Where was SKZ?

The feeling of dread started washing over me as a cruel thought crossed my mind: What if I would be betrayed again?

Were they going to come at all?

"You can't fucking shut that pretty mouth of yours up, can you? I'm gonna shut you up for good, slut."

"You're a sick bastard." I blurted out the first insult that crossed my mind. Pretty weak one, I know, but can you blame me in that situation?

His grip on my neck was getting tighter and as I was struggling to breathe, my head was starting to feel light.

Suddenly, the lights went out and the room became dark.

"Just so you know, I'm not done with you, bitch."

He let go of me for a brief second and shoved a flask in my mouth, forcing a bitter liquid down my throat, before getting off of me.

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Chapter 3 | Chapter 5