#animals seem to be able to sense that so most run away or growl at me whenever I come near but not ducks ducks are cool like that.

[comfortless]

got a startling number or requests for this, so here’s a part two for captured mercenary! König x noblewoman! reader..!

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. medieval au, dubious consent, slightly rough smut, abduction.

On the twelfth day, you finally understand how to punish König.

The nightly incidents have grown more frequent, sometimes thrice before the sun rises. Even once when you had caught his eye from across the yard whilst he bathed in the pond. A heavy hand had curled around his manhood with the most obscene words you had ever heard a man speak spilling from his panting mouth.

You merely stared like an innocent fawn in the face of a starved hunter then, but as the day passed a deep sorrow seemed to take root, one that should have been left well enough alone. König is not an animal, but… he is an unwed brute whose very appearance had most of the servant girls running for their quarters with their hands shoved protectively into the laps of their skirts.

He’s lonely. You had reasoned that must be why he’s so hellbent on torturing you to tears, to harass you with that leaking, throbbing pillar between his thighs. His insults have come to a stop. The man you took in for a pouch of copper is more of a pity than a terror at all.

With the sleepless nights beginning to weigh down on you, puppeting yourself day by day grows to be the most awful task. He’s always lurking close: it’s what he’s here for. König’s eyes never stray from you.

It’s getting to him, too.

The midwife, of course, shyly told you that a lady of your status should hold fast to her maidenhood until the eve of her wedding. But… once the dutiful words had been spilled, she immediately followed them with laughter, explaining that some men just needed to be subjugated, hinting that that was possibly the solution to what has you so downtrodden.

You couldn’t help yourself, not when he glanced up at you in the midst of training, his sightless mimicry of an opponent made up of wood already felled and settled into the dust at his feet. You could always feign your innocence, accuse him of imagining things should he say a word. Though, you’re guilty, just as guilty as him as you reveal your body to him where you sat perched upon the window sill.

The fluttering, innocent fabric of your gown is pulled from your shoulders and pushed down your hips to pool upon the floor. The laces of your corset are hastily untied to follow down. The underdress is all but torn away when you notice the way he halts in place, jaw tightening and eyes going wide.

Like the most malevolent of nymphs, you don’t offer him a taste when he comes storming into the castle chasing that glint of hope. You wind yourself through the halls, fully clothed as he huffs and growls just beyond your shoulder of how it is cruel and dangerous to tease a man.

Something about the way he boasts of doing so much for you to receive so little in turn conjures laughter from your throat. It is not often you’re able to treat a man this way, and even less often have you learned a thing about war, but you’ve certainly turned the tables in this ridiculous battle.

Those warnings of his fall entirely on deaf ears.

Then comes the night you no longer sense him positioned beyond your door. You sleep uninterrupted and warm, safely tucked between layers of cloth and down. The comfort of not being stirred awake by clamoring and grunting jolts you up with worry, because by this time it’s unnatural.

The peace of the night is heavy; the castle is entirely silent, no heavy soles meeting stone floors or hushed voices whispering secrets. There are crickets chirping beyond your window where a cool breeze drifts in to flutter curtains, but not a sound otherwise.

You push past your own apprehension to try the door, to seek him out with your innocent fretting, only to find that past that wooden barrier no one is stood guard.

A torch is lit and stationed upon the wall in König’s place, and the looming darkness further down the blackened hall feels so inexplicably ominous that your courage is diminished the second you place you find your footing over the threshold of the door and step out to have it envelope you in full.

König is not the only thing that would swallow you whole if you allowed it.

The realization dawns on you with each fragile step upon cool stone. He’s left you to fend for yourself, likely run off to have his fill of brothel girls and find a new band to strike you and any other pompous noble down. Your castle and your servants would all be ash come the dawn if he so chose… but it isn’t that thought that fills your heart with dread whilst you make your way out of these silent walls.

There’s a clamor coming from the stables when night air brushes over your face, the breeze pushing your hair into your eyes. You’ve heard the sound many a times when one is preparing to ride, the gathering of a saddle whilst the horses press their hooves to earth and watch on in preparation. There are no chores to be done elsewhere, and no servant would be given permission to leave the safety of the walls this late into the night.

König is leaving, abandoning you and his duties.

That’s what bothers you more than the thought of some awful demise.

You can’t place why it even matters. He’s been nothing short of a terror since the day he stepped foot in this place. He doesn’t bring your heart any soothing, only leaves it in wreckage and strikes up a wetness between your thighs. The man is not special, only cruel and ugly, sharp and bloodied like the swords he looks upon with far more passion than he’s ever given to you. Yet, the thought of being without him is haunting.

The walk across the yard feels as though it takes an age. You refuse to cry before him again, have those callused fingers wipe away your tears, but the scowl you force is only as daunting as the look of a forlorn puppy. You can’t find it within you to hate him, even when you try in earnest.

Your hand grasps at the wall of the stable as you peer inside to find the very scene from your imaginings. A horse is readied with as many supplies as it can carry, sacks of what you assume to be stolen food and weaponry hastily fastened to its sides. König is there, of course, shushing the animal with feed as the gate shuts behind him.

He would wait it out here until the night deepens and there would be no chance of anyone coming to stop him, all others preoccupied with their dreaming. As much as you would have preferred to find the sense to return to your own mattress and wait for the sun, your steps lead you inside instead. To him.

“What are you doing?” Your hiss is meek, hushed, and you know you sound more the part of a scorned wife than any authority at all. Your eyes don’t even meet his, cast down to the loose hay at your feet blanketing the dirt floor.

The man only sounds elated at the sight of you, at the idea of being caught amidst his further wicked behavior as he explains to you exactly what you already know. He does not shy away from approaching you, either. You only realize then you’re still dressed for bed without a weapon, just this loose, white gown and a betrayed stare. You’re no threat to someone like this, if anyone at all.

“You want me to stay?,” he hisses right back, taking liberty over your state to draw a hand up to your face, tilt your chin up so your eyes do finally meet his. The sadness remains in his eyes, deeper than you could even fathom, but accompanying it now is a crying madness.

Subjugate, you remind yourself when your lips press to a line. You could play the part of someone braver, bring him to his knees with words and promises up until morning where he would assuredly receive a good lashing.

The hand on your chin crawls down to your neck, thumb petting your pulse with even strokes.

“You can make me,” he continues through your bitter silence. The smirk upon his face is not charming, only cruel again; likely the same look he would give to the void each time he has heard you unravel at the mere thought of him.

You separate yourself from him with a wounded glare, barely keeping yourself together at the thought of finally allowing this brute to unite with your being in such a way. The reasonings as to why you should not are a blur now, reeled back by a more demanding series of thoughts. A secret you could keep, just as long as…

“You really will? If I allow you to…”

“Ja,” König answers simply, gives you a firm nod as to further express his answer. The truth of it was, he finds you dumb. After many months being here, you’ve picked up on a few words of his mother tongue and still he seems to think of you as a simple woman. “Zeig mir deine pflaume.”

You think you may even look the part of some naïve, overly trusting creature when your gown falls to your ankles to rest of the hay covered floor.

The man does not kiss you, only weighs your breasts in his hands, squishes them and paws at their plushness until his breathing grows heavy. He’s grown hard beneath his tunic already, without so much as a moan or a touch from you, but with his eyes locked onto what lies between your trembling legs and the flesh in his hands you almost feel a swell of pride.

His face dips to press into your chest, an eager tongue snaking out to wet you… everywhere. Perhaps he isn’t the most experienced with women, perhaps he’s only sampled what the brothels had to offer.

There’s no care for your pleasure here, only a tentative exchange made clear by the way he gropes at you with such force and tugs your nipple between his teeth as shallow pants and low whimpers leave your parted lips. The bites grow in intensity until you bring your hands to his scarred face to shove him away, only then does he relent back to feverish licks.

A hand trails down to your hip, all too eager in its exploration. There’s no warning when he tests your willingness, pets at your cunt like a well-loved pet. And damn it all — you are wet, as much as you would like to be frigid and resentful here, your body sings for him with soft whines instead of birdsong and dew over the petals of your own flower. He hums appreciatively while suckling at your tit, pushes a finger into your slit so suddenly your body jolts forward to grasp at his shoulders for purchase.

“Not here…” You try to reason with him. There are beds in the castle and walls so thick not a soul would hear. You didn’t need to be fucked in a stable like a breeding mare, it’s unbecoming for both of you.

Not that König even had the sense to listen. You’ve placed a hearty offering at the altar of a starved god, and he would be a fool to allow room to have it snatched away.

The response he gives you is not in words. It’s with a sudden spin that leaves you grasping at the gate of an empty stall, your back to him. You’ve never felt quite so vulnerable, never so horribly heartbroken when this beast chooses to take you from behind instead of nice and slow, in a bed that smells of lavender and incense.

There’s a soft rustling as he pulls his cock free from his garments, his head pressed to where your shoulder and neck join where he whispers what you imagine to be pure filth in his mother tongue, takes in your scent with panting breaths. The fat tip of his cock is diligently rubbed against you in hasty strokes, gathering your wetness until you feel yourself beginning to quiver.

Any chance to turn back is ripped out of your grasp the second he loses patience and begins to feed your drooling cunt each girthy inch. The hands that directed your face with most of your interactions are now cinched firmly against your waist. The sounds that leave him now are unlike any you’ve heard prior; a hand as hard and rough as his could never quite feel the same as what you’ve blessed him with.

“You feel…” He halts momentarily when he’s stuffed himself into you entirely, listening to each soft sound that’s pulled from your lips as you shake around him, for him. He doesn’t need to speak, really… you feel it too, the immediate heat and immaculate bliss of being joined in such a way. You’ve seen that horrid, thick thing countless times but to imagine it would feel so heavenly inside…

“Fick mich… so tight…”

His fucking becomes rampant when you cast him a look over your shoulder, one of utter rapture. Any patience he feigned is lost, because his cock spears you open again and again at a pace that jolts you in place and has your nails splintering the wood in your grasp. The teeth that pulled and bit at your nipples sink into your shoulder to keep those foul words contained, but does little to stifle the desperate groans and keening whines. The sounds of impact join him, filling up the shush of the night air.

Though you try to keep yourself contained, when a hand rises to squeeze at your breast and pinch your nipple between two coarse digits, any hope of biting your tongue is snuffed out. The sounds of your pleasure only add to his derangement; his thrusts become almost unbearable as he fills you with the length of his cock, pulls out to where his tip snags at your entrance only to fully bury himself again in quick repetition.

You don’t even come before he grows sloppy. Each stroke comes less intent, shifting from too fast or far too slow. It’s maddening, the way he sinks in to press his balls to your clit, already drenched in your essence, like a proper lover only to pump you like a common whore following.

He announces his impending orgasm to you in a grunt before sinking his teeth into your neck. Your hand detaches from the gate to slip between your thighs where König immediately grips your wrist as directs each movement as you circle your clit. There’s no tact or beauty here. He forces you to set a rough pace, desperate to feel you squeeze around his cock before he fucks his seed into you; the brute grows impatient and bats your hand away entirely as he pinches and flicks at the nub until you sob, because as torturous as it is, it works.

You’re brought to an abrupt end, eyes squeezed shut and jaw tightening as your hips jolt to meet his palm and your cunt pulls him in to pulse. He laps languidly at your neck while he gives you only a few stilted thrusts before the entire affair comes to an end. König doesn’t have near enough sense to keep himself contained, how no curious servant was pried from their bed by the pleasured bellow he lets out then is remarkable.

The man who fucks his palm near thrice a day still manages to fill your cunt to bursting with his seed. It slips down your thigh when he pulls away from you, tugs at your cheek to take in the view with a satisfied grunt that makes you want to recoil from him in a fit of misery. Maybe even love, because you find yourself so regrettably content now that you wouldn’t even mind sleeping in this sour smelling stable if only he would keep an arm around you…

König’s thoughts are elsewhere. He adjusts himself back into his clothes and pulls your gown from the floor to present it back to you. There’s no romance, only a subtle hint of something more than disinterest when he flashes you an almost boyish grin while you straighten yourself out as best you can.

A warm bath followed by a pillow beneath your head would be nice, but instead this romp blesses you with more dread.

The horse König had so diligently prepared is led out of its stall, and you… You’re hardly given a moment to react before you’re seated on the saddle by a pair of thick arms, the owner of which follows suit while you shoot him an uneasy glance. The question of where he’s taking you is only met with a palm curled over your mouth and an affectionate peck to your temple. You’ve no intention of being thrown off a horse or further tempting fate, even if it seems the easier route than whatever this proves to be.

“My lady wants to stay with me..,” he purrs as the reins are forced into your hands. That same hand slips down to push up your gown again and pivot your ass to rest over his crotch. “So she will come with me, hm?”

The cock finds its way inside of you again as the horse takes quiet, metered steps. Your eyes grow wet with tears unshed, and your protestations are muffled by that grip over the lower half of your face. König seems almost sympathetic even with the transparency of his renewed arousal throbbing inside of you; his hand falls free from your mouth as the horse carries you both past the threshold of the gate, replaced instead by a kiss both fiery and soothing.

You sulk and demand he return you home, to the safety of that stone nest, only to be shushed each time by a sweet press of his mouth to yours, your cheek when you will yourself to turn away. His free hand pets at your side, your breast, any where he can touch to calm your trembling. It doesn’t help… much, but your heart does seem to soften amidst the confusion and bereavement.

“I will take you home,” he mutters as he toys with your clit again, beckoning you to grind back against him. Your head lolls back again his shoulder, dazed and shaky from both his touch and his horrible deceit.

Home. Back to whatever pit of sulfur and grime he came from to drag you back down into it with him.

“… I’ll take care of you, little dove.”

It’s a shame this gentle side of him only decided upon showing its face when the roles reversed in his favor. Prisoner or wife, you meld against him wholly, sigh your pleasure as he whisks you away.

[karniss-bg3]

i know you usually don't tackle female!tav x kar'niss but if you had to give it a shot... just something wholesome maybe? esp since the Absolute is feminine-coded all throughout the game, the overtones could be there for kar'niss to see a kind good-aligned femme!tav as a goddess to worship all for himself. maybe just a scene of her tending to his wounds or arachnid peculiarities as a drider—i.e: maybe he molts and the process is painful but she helps him through it with comfort and grace?

[Music]

Where had he gone? Morning light had broke and there were no signs of her eight-legged companion. Tav crawled out of her sleeping bag to survey the area with mild concern etched over her face.

“Kar’niss?”

She surveyed the area, her ears coming to perk as she caught the sound of shuffling from a nearby cave. Unafraid she advanced toward the noise, casting the light cantrip in an effort to shoo away the darkness. She’d come to find a figure huddled at the back of the cavern, curled in tight against the rock face in an effort to make himself as small as possible. She frowned while she carefully stepped closer, willing the lights nearer to get a better look at him. She noticed signs of damage along the abdomen of his lower half, the flesh knotting and bunching up unnaturally over the carapace.

“Gods, what’s happening? Are you alright?” She’d ask while trying to wander closer.

“Don’t!” He retreated tighter against the wall wanting to maintain the greatest distance between them. “This is not for you. Go away.”

She could sense the fear in him, the pain. His leg at the far back of his body lifted and curled in a vain attempt to scrape over his molting mound with pathetic results. He snarled in frustration, planting his hands against the wall, his torso slumped. She wouldn’t be intimidated able to see he was in need.

“I’ll be back,” she said, darting off.

In a few moments she returned with pack in hand, placing it down nearby to root around for supplies. Kar’niss’ eyes narrowed as he watched, a deep reverberating trill vibrating within his throat akin to a growl. Tav heard the sound for what it really was, cries from a wounded animal who didn’t know how to ask for aid. She pulled a bottle of light gray paste from her bag, unscrewing the lid and giving it a sniff to make sure the contents were still good. It smelled medicinal, a sharp tang of bitter roots and sap combined to make a potent salve. Satisfied with her test she rose and approached Kar’niss once more.

The drider reared up in response, his pedipalps rising and extending outward in a threatening manner while his two front most legs stamped into the ground with defiance.

“S-Stay away…!” Kar’niss panted, a panic starting to bubble within him. Every woman he’d ever trusted had inevitably hurt him, betrayed him in some way. Used, abused, and discarded when his usefulness had run out, why would Tav be any different?

But Tav was different, even if he could not yet see it. She held up the jar so he could get a better look. The contents were boring, bland and unimpressive in appearance, hardly what one would think could fell a drider.

“It’s medicine, Kar’niss. It will help ease the pain, allow you to heal faster. See?” She used two fingers to scoop up a dollop of the paste, applying the portion onto her own arm and rubbed it in like lotion. Once done she extended her arm so he could see for himself. It looked perfectly normal. Her flesh didn’t melt away, bubble or boil from the application, nor did it turn any unusual colors. The scent was so strong that he got a whiff and his head jerked back in response to how it tickled the inside of his nostrils.

He still seemed hesitant about what was on offer. That is until another pang of pain ripped through his body, his entire frame quaking in response. His expression twisted and teeth grit in anguish.

“Hnnng!” He tried to turn and reach back to touch the pained segment but he couldn’t reach, his spine unable to twist at such an angle. His brows furrowed, his attention returning to Tav who tried so hard to offer him help. With his lips pressed into a thin line a slow sigh spilled from his lips. “You may...apply this medicine. But do not linger!”

She smiled at him. “Thank you. It...might sting a little, but far less so than what you’re enduring now.”

Tav approached his side to get a better look at the damage. It did seem he was molting and only midway through, suggesting this would be a long day. The carapace that had fallen away left tender pink flesh behind, exposed and vulnerable during this stage of the process. She’d first snap away the dead skin that still clung to him, knowing better than to peel beyond that. This process couldn’t be hurried it needed to continue at the pace it was destined to go. Still, she could at least be rid of the excess and provide him relief from the weight.

Kar’niss was on edge throughout, watching over his shoulder at the ready for the flash of a dagger, the buzz of threatening magic, anything she could do to strike at him. None of that would come to pass. Instead with the removal of the discarded carapace she now had access to the fresh skin below. Her fingered dabbled into the salve and applied a coating over the surface. Despite her warning about the inevitable sting, Kar’niss scrambled and backed up into the corner, a monstrous screech echoing throughout the cave.

Tav backed up quickly and held up her hands. “Easy, easy now. Shh it’s alright.” She cooed, her voice maintaining a delicate hum to keep things calm.

A sheen of sweat trickled over Kar’niss’ face along with the threat of tears in his eyes, heavy exhales of breath pushed between his clenched teeth. He was on the verge of snapping at Tav once more until he felt something unexpected; Relief. The salve started to work it’s magic over the affected area. A cooling sensation crept over the sensitive skin leaving behind a pleasant tingle, effectively numbing the nerves from further assault. He blinked in stunned silence. Her method not only worked but it stopped the pain rather than enhancing it. He glanced at his rounded back-end with a firm look of contemplation, his abdomen lifted and issued a cursory wiggle. His gaze then darted back to her, his savior, the anger steadily fading away.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” Tav smiled and screwed the lid back onto the jar. “It should stave off the pain for at least a few hours, I’ll need to apply more after that. At least now you know what to expect. We can remain here until the process finishes. I’ll keep an eye out, guard the cave and bring you something to eat. How does that sound?”

Kar’niss bobbed his head in a quick nod, still a little taken back by this new revelation. He rubbed at one of his arms to self soothe, struck by a new wave of thoughts he didn’t know how to process yet.

“...Thank you,” he whispered.

Tav stepped closer and rested her fingertips on one of his pedipalps, another gesture that brought him great shock. “You’re welcome. Remember I am here for you, okay?” Their eyes met briefly which made something inside his chest flutter, wild and free. His lips trembled enough to where he jerked his gaze away, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

“I won’t be gone long. Let me know if the pain returns,” Tav said. She’d then slip away to give the drider his space, smiling at him over her shoulder until her silhouette faded from the cave entrance.

Kar’niss looked on in an effort to process it all. He lowered himself to the ground to rest while the pain was quelled, glancing back from time to time where the medicine had been applied. Steadily a slow, lopsided smile tugged at his scarred lips, a warmth growing inside of him unlike any he’d known before. He looked to the cave entrance, watching and waiting, for her to return.

“My Queen.”

[neopronouns-in-action]

Neopronouns in Action #080: Knowing When to Run

Neopronouns: zim/zur/zimself which follow the same rules as it/its/itself

Neopronouns: card/cards, which will follow the same rules as it/its/itself for this example.

Replace it with zim  Replace its with zur  Replace itself with zimself

EX:

"It is going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as it gets a fence set up around its yard so the puppy can go outside without it having to walk it. Its uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he's letting it use, since it lost its. It's going to buy toys and train the puppy itself."

Becomes:

"Zim is going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as zim gets a fence set up around zur yard so the puppy can go outside without zim having to walk it. Zur uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he's letting zim use, since zim lost zur. Zim's going to buy toys and train the puppy zimself."

___

Swift was on zur perch, and zim and Gellert had been speaking – softly, so as not to wake the child – of the weather from the past few days. It hadn’t rained in what seemed like forever, even though it was due.

Swift was on zur perch by the doorway, Gellert lay on his side on his rug by the cradle, his gray fur burnished by the slight coming in through the window that looked out over the gardens.

They had just started to wonder aloud together about when they would be able to go on another hunt with their lord, when suddenly Gellert twitched his head, then sat bolt upright, staring at the window, the fur on his back stiffening. Zim could hear a growl starting in his chest.

Swift asked in alarm, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Gellert wasn’t excitable and prone to overreaction, and Zim had learned to trust in the noses of dogs. They could sense things zim would never be able to dream of.

But before Gellert could respond, Swift was given the answer when a shadow suddenly blotted out the bright sunlight, and a large shape, even larger than Gellert, came through the window.

Swift didn’t need to ask again what had alarmed Gellert so much. Now zim knew – it was a wolf.

How had they gotten past the castle’s remaining human guards, and all the other animals still roaming the place? But that didn’t matter now – because the wolf was here, in the nursury, with only Swift and Gellert to protect the prince’s infant son, asleep in his cradle.

Swift was not tied to zur perch – zim hadn’t needed to be since zim was a fledgeling – so zim could go on the attack if need be, but it would be more dangerous than anything zim had ever done before.

Gellert was on his feet now, and boomed, “Get out!”

The wolf, who had slunk to the corner by the window to regard the two of them with cautious yellow eyes, said nothing, but darted those bright eyes from Gellert, to the cradle, to Swift, to the doorway, and back to the window.

Finally its gaze settled back on Gellert, and it lifted itself out of the half-crouch it had fallen into, and took a solid, purposeful step forward. Toward the cradle and the sleeping child.

Gellert snarled, and barked again in a fury, “Stay back! I’m warning you!”

In the cradle, the prince’s son woke up and began to whimper.

Swift decided to try and help by adding a screech of zur own, hoping to attract more attention – “Wolf! Wolf!” zim called as loudly as zim could. The child in the cradle began to cry in earnest, adding his wails to the cacophony of echoes. “Wolf! Guards! Wolf!”

But no one came. Most of the humans had gone to the tournament several kingdoms away, and had left behind only enough servants and guards to keep the place clean. Those servants who had been meant to be watching the child had snuck off to the tournament a few hours after the nobles left so as not to be caught, leaving the child under the sole watch of the loyal dog and the falcon, each under the assumption that they were the only ones sneaking off.

The uproar of barking, screeching, and crying echoing off the stone walls drew no assistance from any quarter.

The wolf had paused when Gellert began barking, but as the moments passed without any sign of reaction from anywhere in the castle, its posture began to change, and it stood up straighter.

It took another slow, deliberate step forward, raising its tail and lifting its lips to let its teeth flash in the sunlight and said, low voice cutting through Gellert’s furious barking with calm, predatory confidence, “You don’t scare me, dog.”

Swift screeched, “You should be afraid! Take one more step and I’ll rip out your heart!”

The wolf flicked one ear, almost in amusement, but didn’t back down.

“Just give me the child, and I won’t have to kill you.” It said instead, staring directly across the room with those searing yellow eyes at Gellert, like Swift wasn’t even there.

Zim was smaller than its head, so zur threat wasn’t exactly believable, and they all knew it was nothing but words.

But so help zim sky, Swift would kill that wolf and die trying if it meant protecting the prince’s son.

Gellert clearly had the same thoughts, because he made a sudden mock-lunge with a vicious snarl, making the wolf skitter backward in alarm. Swift might have only had words to offer, but Gellert could back up his threats with his teeth. He was no young pup, he knew how to fight, and he was willing.

Gellert pressed this sudden display of fear on the wolf’s part, advancing halfway across the room, snarling viciously, all his fur standing on end, making him look bigger than he really was, his whole body tensed like an arrow on the string, ready at any moment to leap into violence.

Swift felt just as tense, sitting on zur perch, unable to do anything to help. Zim could try swoop at its eyes and head head, but it would be a risk. A single snap of those jaws could crush zim in a moment, and Swift likely wouldn’t get a second chance if zur bluff was called.

But there was one thing zim could do – zim leapt and flew as fast as zim could to the cradle and landed on the railing above the bawling child’s head, ready to make a final stand if the wolf got past Gellert, hoping that if the child could see zim, he would take some comfort. That part at least worked – the child was familiar with zim, and calmed his screams to whimpers at the sight of zim.

Swift stayed there to comfort the child, but kept both eyes on the standoff, unable to hear zur own racing heartbeat over the sounds of snarling and snapping from Gellert and the wolf.

Gellert had advanced to the middle of the room, backing the wolf into the corner, always keeping himself between the wolf and the cradle where both the child, and now Swift were waiting, defenceless. Every line of the wolfhound’s body promised bloody violence, without a single shred of hesitation or fear visible.

For its part, the wolf snarled back for all it was worth, but it had taken back those two brazen steps it had originally made, until it was backed into the corner, still snarling, ears pinned flat.

Gellert stopped, stiff-legged and poised to lunge, and snarled, flashing his teeth, “Leave now, back the way you came, if you value your life!”

The wolf gave another snarl, but even to Swift, it was clear this was made out of of fear rather than aggression. This became even clearer when it cried, “If I leave without anything to show for it, my journey here will have been wasted! Have pity on me, and my pups!”

Gellert lunged and snapped at the wolf’s tail, forcing it to skitter back towards the window to avoid his teeth.

Drawing back again to the middle of the room, Gellert growled, “If you force me to fight you, you will have lost more than your time! I will not let you kill my prince’s son, I will kill you or die trying before I let you get even close! This small bit of meat isn’t worth your life, wolf, and I swear by my own, it is your life you will lose if you don’t leave now while I still give you the chance!”

Cringing now in earnest, tail tucked between its legs, the wolf pressed itself to the wall, inching towards the window. “Mercy, give me mercy, please, dog, I give in, you win. Let me leave and I swear I won’t return!”

“Go! Now!” Gellert barked, “Before I change my mind!”

Without another moment of hesitation, the wolf turned and leapt back out the window.

Finally now here was something Swift could do to help. Without waiting to be asked, Swift launched zimself into the air and swept out the window and up into the sky, immediately spotting the wolf racing away across the grass towards the castle’s wall. Gaining altitude, Swift arrowed after it, determined not to let it out of zur sight until there was no chance of it coming back. If need be, zim would follow it to the ends of the earth.

And if it tried to turn around and sneak back, Swift would be back ahead of it to warn Gellert before it could reach the nursery again.

The wolf darted past a sleeping guard at the gate and sped away across the plain, and Swift sped after it, fast as an arrow and with eyes sharp enough not to miss any sign of trickery, refusing to let the wolf out of zur sight until zim knew it was safe.

[kizzer55555]

Ok, so this inspired me. Basically, Jazz and Danny are running away after Jack and Maddie died in a lab accident due to the GIW. The Guys in White are now hunting both Danny and Liminal Jazz so the two run away. However, the GIW manage to keep tracking them down. So Jazz and Danny need to find a new tactic. They manage to get their hands on some magical amulets that Danny tracked down using his powers and ghostly connections. These are similar to the dragon amulets that Dorothea and her brother used. Put them on, and you will turn into an animal of your choice.

Danny and Jazz used the amulets to shape-shift and give the GIW the slip. They need to cross a forest? A pair of deer is no bother. Had to get over a canyon? A simple sparrow and hawk could be seen flying by. Had to cross a river? That fish and turtle seem awfully determined to cross.

Then eventually they reach Gotham and turn into a common dog and cat. However, things get…complicated. During a. Rougue attack, they lose the amulets and they discover a small side effect. Apparently, unlike Dorathea and Aragon, if the amulet comes off, they do not automatically revert to their natural form.

well, at least they have their ghost/liminal powers (Jazz is stronger, faster, and tougher than a normal person and can sense/taste emotion.) Now they have to get their amulets back.

Then they stumble across a local vigilante stuck under some rubble caused by the same villain attack. Well, it’s not like they could just leave him right?

Jason awoke to two random street animals saving his life and doing things that normal animals…really shouldn’t be able to do. That dog just lifted an entire steel beam in it’s jaws like it was a common stick. And he’s pretty sure the cat just phase shifted to his side. Because of the helmet, the siblings don’t realize Jason woke up.

Once finished and sure that help is arriving, Danny and Jazz leave to find their amulets. And Jason meanwhile, takes note of the two meta animals in his part of the city.

They keep running into each other. Danny and Jazz are having a hard time getting food now that they can’t shift back into human. It’s also harder to find a place to stay. The city is too crowded to use their powers, that would be a dead giveaway that they weren’t normal and likely get the GIW’s attention. And they can’t talk in this form either. Sure, they can understand each other and other animals but no matter how hard they try, the dog and cat mouth just wasn’t made to speak human language and all that comes out are grrrs and soft mews. Jazz does her best to keep her little brother safe now that he’s in such a tiny and vulnerable form. She growls at anyone who comes close to them. Danny meanwhile, uses his abilities to secretly get most of their food.

Then they spot that vigilante guy from before and he starts leaving out food after seeing how skinny they are (he must not have noticed before with the concussion). Slowly but surely, he earns their trust. At least enough for him to get close without the dog growling at him. It sort of evolves from there. Jason had made it very obvious when he enters or exists certain buildings, letting them know without words that these were his places. He even makes direct eye contact (Jason knew these animals were more intelligent than normal, although he assumed it was due to the ‘meta gene’), and he leaves his place open for them to come in (he’s not sure how they managed to get in through the 4th story window but once he realized it was possible he just started leaving the window unlocked).

Jazz and Danny recognize Red hood’s apartment as a safe place with food and shelter and they stop by there when they need it as they search for the amulets. They do so more and more until it starts being more common to see Jazz sleeping on Jason’s couch or Danny curled up next to the vigilante as he sharpens his knives. They spend more time in the apartment than out. They also start following Jason around (never out in public though, only his goons know about Jason’s two little shadows. They think it’s adorable. Danny absolutely deliberately curls up on Red Hood’s shoulder while in view. It is a universal law that when a cat sleeps on you, you cannot move. And Danny abuses that power, especially in front of Red Hood’s henchmen. His bad boy rep is being shredded to pieces by tiny little claws without a shred of mercy).

Jazz and Danny become comfortable with red hood and he even gives them collars so that no one messes with them or they end up at the pound (again). Picking out names was a chore though. Danny and Jazz refused every suggestion until Jason got them right. Danny’s was pretty easy, he just kept going through names until he eventually got it. Jazz was a bit harder as he only got it when the dog kept changing his speaker music to Jazz music. She would just come over and swipe at his phone with her nose or go to a nearby radio and turn the dial with her teeth. So for a while, it was just Danny and Dog (affectionately known by the goons as the DDs) (although Jason never caller her Dog to Jazz’s face.)

Danny and Jazz wish they could talk to Jason and explain to him what they need. After all, as comfortable as this is, they need to be able to return to human form some time. Jason hasn’t actually claimed ownership of them. They come and go as they like. But he’s starting to learn why people get therapy animals. He hasn’t been this relaxed in months.

On an unrelated note, Damian is ecstatic when Jason tries to casually ask for pet care advice and he weasels out the information that Jason got two animals. Not only that, two meta animals. Jason absolutely must bring them over for play dates and walks. Titus recognizes Jazz as an alpha and respects her while Danny does his absolute best to get Alfred the cat to play with him.)

Danny would fail the wall test 😔 (click for clarity)

[albedos-experiment-gone-wrong]

failed my first assignment today in lit class

[tokoyamisstuff]

Dolorous (n.) - grieving, mournful; full of sorrow

After the fall of Overwatch, your fiancé Gabriel Reyes was presumed dead as well - yet no corpse was ever retrieved out of the debris.

Unwilling to accept this fate, your dangerous investigations lead you right to the enigma hunting down former comrades of yours...

...is he the one responsible for the disappearance of your lover?

[Part 2]

Warnings: Angst, Cussing, Blood and Injury

A/N: This will have a part 2 don't you worry, guys.

Words: ~2200

That was it. You're done for. Seems like this is as far as you go...

Evening out your breaths to a quiet tone was an impossible task considering the gaping hole currently throbbing on your left shoulder - a clean gunshot by Talon's henchmen that went right through.

Because of this injury you had lost a concerning amount of blood, now all splattered on the floor and leaving a trace to lead your enemies right towards your location.

Not that it mattered, though. Even without this fact you were certain that this person could feel you - lured in by your fear like an animal to it's prey.

Your head was dizzy due to the bloodloss, back leaning against the metal crate you were currently hiding behind as you ripped apart a piece of your combat clothes to try and stop the bleeding.

Right now was far from an appropriate time to reminisce, but somehow this whole situation you had thrown yourself into brought your mind right back to the moment of Reyes' funeral - being certain of joining him there soon.

Back then however, the cascet was empty - for there was nothing to bury. No one you could say goodbye to.

Maybe this was the reason you weren't able to process his sudden absence in your life, the loss of the first and only person that made you believe in the concept of true love.

Haunted by this soulcrushing loss, you had refused to accept the truth and became obsessed with the idea of an alleged conspiracy.

And only now that you were faing inevitable death yourself the dam ultimatively broke, a tidal wave of all those emotions you so desperately suppressed finally burying you beneath

How ironic that the relentless search for your lover in this life would most likely cause you to be reunited in the afterlife.

Black spots were appearing in your line of sight as you slowly drifted away into unconsciousness, the last thing you could perceive through eyes blurred by tears being a menacing, black silhouette that was slowly coming closer.

It was alright though, you concluded with one last coherent thought as the cloaked figure crouched down right in front of you, stare boring into you underneath that expressionless mask of his.

The last emotion you would ever feel shall not be a wasted one. No, you wanted to be grateful - despite it all.

For all those bright times you were able to experience, with your friends, family, or just kind strangers. The good deeds of yours that had made an impact on this world.

Anything that made your life worthwile, no matter how small or insignificant it might seem.

Especially the time you had spent with the love of your life - even if it had ended so abruptly and tragically. An eternity with him would've been too short a time, either way.

In your delirium, you could've sworn that to see his face, using the last ounce of strenght to reach out for him.

"Ga-briel..."

Reyes' blood run cold as he heared his name drop from your lips - a heavenly sound he thought never to be graced with again. He froze as your hand came close to his face, yet luckily you passed out before he could decide how to react.

"What on earth are you doing here, Y/N?" the man growled as he caughed your limp self in his arms, surprised to notice his own body still being able to tremble, despite everything.

There was simply no way you knew his true - former - identity. Surely the rebuilt Overwatch wouldn't send you all alone without any backup either.

So what did you came here for? No matter how he racked his brain around it, this whole scheme of yours just didn't make any sense.

Yet here you were, and with your severe damage and the whole building being surrounded by Talon agents, there was simply no way for him to lead you a save passage away from the outpost.

So he swiftly picked you up, the claws on his gloves gently moving some bloodied strands of hair out of your face. You were still breathing, but would need medical aid as soon as possible - and Gabriel couldn't bear the thought of losing you because of his own shortcomings.

There was only one way to save you right now - by pulling you even further into this mess.

"Requesting a medic on site B...I've caught an enemy with possibly valuable information we can't afford to die just yet."

___

There was a high-pitched ring in your ear as you finally awoke, and as soon as you dared slightly opening your eyes the bright light of an operation room table forced them back shut.

With no indication of where exactly you were and how the hell you got out of that building, a feeling of unease settled in the pitch of your stomach.

There was no use in trying to get up before properly assessing the situation,especially because you were hooked to several tubes and machines, additionally to being handcuffed to the sickbed.

It was obvious that Talon had taken you prisoner, keeping you alive -yet for what purpose you could only guess.

They had their ways to mess with people's body and mind, after all. Maybe they'd try and force you to work for them, or straight up use you as guinea pig for their cruel experiments.

Much to your surprise in opposite to that initial theory, your wound had been treated and the ache in your arm was completely gone - in fact your whole body in general hadn't felt that good and well-rested in a long time.

Who knows just how much time had passed since that strange figure caught you.

"Why am I still alive?"

You asked this question in a matter-of-factly tone, almost as if the answer was of no importance at all as you stared aimlessly at the ceiling, before turning your head to your savior - no, abductor.

Reaper, or so they called him, daring to speak his name in whispers and fleeting tales only.

An eldritch horror, a monster, less than a person yet so much more powerful - for he had forsaken his humanity in favour of indescribable strenght no one should possess in the first place.

Just like his namesake implied, able to nourish on his victim's souls - however his insateable hunger could only be stilled by those he seeked revenge on. Walking the shadows with only one desire in his mind, a last remain of the person he once was:

Eradicating each and every single one of Overwatch's agents.

Even with that knowledge in mind you remained calm - way too calm, considering what kind of man was lurking right next to your defenseless self.

But you didn't really care anymore. All you demanded were answers - and you had grown tired of waiting.

"You've broken into our base all by yourself" he stated, responding with a counterquestion instead. "What for?"

Yes, it's been almost half a year since the incident. Everyone had long since given up in searching for the fallen comrades that were never found, hoping that the secret affairs within Overwatch would remain buried together with them.

Except for you, due to your inability to find closure.

"I'm looking for someone" you stated coldly, side-eyeing the broad man that gave it his utmost to appear harmless. "But I doubt that's news for you, since you're so eager to collect all possible information about us remaining Overwatch agents."

No answer, which only enraged you further.

"At least take off that ridiculous mask." To be fair, his appearance fit the profile almost ironically perfect. If the costume-tinkering Gabe would still be among you, he'd surely be envious of a gear that well made. "I at least want to look into the eyes of the man that killed my allies."

"I'm afraid that's not possible." Your patience grew thinner with the minute and every half-assed answer he presented, all with that tormented voice as if he was the one to be pitied instead. "Behind it there's just the empty shell of a man that once was."

"Listen: If you want to kill me, do it quick." Sitting up, you were once again reminded that you were in no position to bargain, since your left hand was still chained to the bedside. "But stop fucking around with me. I'm not joining you guys, or whatever farce you're playing here."

"I know nothing" you added at his lack of response, eyes darting around the room to find any means to escape. "In fact I never even talked to the others since the fall of Overwatch. The only reason I came here for was to find out anything about Gabriel Reyes, really."

"Well, did you know that back then, the headquarters were destroyed not due to an accident, but in Reyes' attempt to overthrow Morrison?"

Silence.

For a while, the air felt too thick for you to breath at the revelation, until you finally found the means to utter a weak "...what?"

In contrast to his inward turmoil of emotions, Reaper sat all calm and collected, hands folded in his lap as he continued his confession.

Actually, he wanted to spare you the pain of realizing that your lover had never been a good person to begin with - but maybe it would make things easier, helping you to finally let go.

"Those last days of his life, Gabriel Reyes was a bitter man that, after his reputation was incorrigibly tainted, fell into the temptation of false pride and revenge. So he started a rebellion, and the ensuing fight caused the explosion."

"Shut the fuck up" you gritted, the pressure on your jaw threatening to make your teeth crack. "You're lying! You don't know shit about him!"

"Oh, I know him way better than you think. And he certainly wouldn't be approving of you putting your life on the line just for his sake."

All the pain and confusion you felt at that moment made your heart painfully clench behind your sternum, balling a fist on the fabric of your shirt as you began hyperventillating.

"Don't act all sympathetic!" Now your tone was laced with pure exasperation, every single word of yours sending a pang to your lover's chest. "You're a homicidal maniac, and most likely you just made up this whole story! What kind of bullshit! As if a sick psycho like you knows anything about me, or him, or love at all!

"Oh, I have loved deeply" Reyes confided, then whispering a barely audible "Still do."

The shadowy man would then lean forwards, and for the fraction of a second you thought to hear some resemblance in this sinister voice that almost triggered a memory. "Your beloved fiancé was a traitor. That's the truth. I'm so-"

"Did you kill him?"

There was just no other way, no different explanation for how much he knew about your fiancé and his wrongdoings - other than that he was the one responsible for his corruption and eventuall fall.

Taken aback by your sudden accusation and the tears now dwelling in your eyes, the room fell silent once again. Mournful sobs echoed against the metallic walls, indicating just how little you cared, showing yourself so vulnerable even in front of a mortal enemy.

It took everything inside of Reyes to not cradle you in his arms right there and then, revealing his true identity and assuring you it'd be alright, that he'd never leave your side ever again. No doubt you'd love him even in this monstrous, repulsing state - but he knew he was undeserving, and would only ruin the best thing that had ever happened to him.

You'd be better off without ever learning the truth about what he had become.

"Yes."

As soon as the word had dropped from his mouth, your tears ran free, covering your eyes with your free hand as muffled cries soon turned into broken laughter...

...and then, you took the scalpel on the table next to your bedside and rammed it deeply into the villain's neck.

"How could you take him from me?!" You screamed, roared at the figure bleeding out in front of you, writhing in pain only for so much until he teared out the blade you had dug into him just seconds ago.

Much to your horror however, the blood that was dripping to the floor immediately dissipated into black smoke, returning to it's master as if nothing ever happened.

"I hate you!" You began furiously beating him, now that you finally found something to channel your grief and anger towards - yet every single blow you tried to land was for naught as he evaded it gracefully, without ever fighting back. "I'll definetly find a way to kill you!"

It would be a fitting end to this tragic story, he thought - his life ended by the only person that never gave up on him.

This might be a salvation for both of you.

[im-657-mv]

the hounds howl

yandere na jaemin

word count: 1,564

Your breath is heavy and your headaches, but there's nowhere left to go. You have to keep going, you have to run. The woods have to end somewhere, and you've only just started, barely making any distance from the house. You slow down and head towards a big tree hoping he won't see you. Your legs sting and burn as you control your breathing. You listen closely to see if you can hear him but the sound of your pounding heart overcomes your other senses.

You slide down behind the tree, resting your legs, trying to not make a sound. Where do you go from here? All around you are trees and behind you the place you escaped from. You see no other paths or roads that lead to somewhere. Jaemin was right. There was no escape. He made sure of it. A house, your cage, sealed away from society. Hidden in the woods so that even if you managed to escape he would be able to find you. You try to find an ounce of hope left in you, there has to be something. The woods have to end somewhere. There has to be a way.

Your time is running out and you're sure he's noticed by now. There's never a time where he is far behind. I wonder if he can hear me. As if he's some sort of super creature able to sense you from far away.

At this point, it's been 2 minutes and you've noticed that the birds stopped chirping. The forest seemed to silence itself, the animals included, seeming to sense that Jaemin was on your trail. Even mother nature feared him, and for good reasons too.

"Y/N!" Jaemin's voice booms against the dead forest, his yelling casting a shadow of fear into the woods. Your time starts now. As fast as you could you sprinted up and headed further and further into the woods.

"Y/N! WHY ARE YOU RUNNING!! JUST COME BACK BEFORE YOU REGRET IT, MY LOVE!"

You keep running trying to go faster. There's no way you can't stop now.

"FINE HAVE IT YOUR WAY THEN!" The trees shudder in response to his threat and so do you. He scared even the largest animals into submission as the forest stays quiet against his voice not daring to interrupt him in all his glory. The only sound is your own as you run away. Your lungs burn as you try to keep up a fast steady pace. Running for dear life you pray for the universe to be on your side this once, please just this one time. You beg and beg but the sound of the hounds howling snaps you out of it. Jaemin's voice screams to follow you. His voicing oozing power and control over the land. Most importantly anger. You hear him scream like a general in war to bring you to him. The hounds are a threat to your very existence. You're fucked. Your try to run faster than you already are, your fear screaming and demanding to pick up the speed. Your will to escape thriving more than ever. If those dogs catch you it's over.

"Please, please, please." You beg and beg. Weezing to yourself like a mantra, like a prayer keeping you together. The dogs are getting closer. Your time is ticking, it slipping through your fingers like sand at a beach. The dogs howl and growl knowing they're close, following the smell of you, following their master's orders. Closer and closer they get, their snarls louder against the quiet forest. There really is no escape. You slow down knowing it's too late. Tears stream down your face as you trip over a stupid rock. Falling to your knees you sob uncontrollably. Your lungs burn as if on fire and your now bruised knees ache as well.

The dogs caught up snarling close to your face to scare you and keep you there in your place until Jaemin arrives to pick you up. They tear and bite your clothes, pulling and dragging you closer to him. The hounds drag you against your will, tears flowing as you give up. How can the world be so cruel? You fall limp and curl up in a ball letting the dogs drag you away. Your dreams are crushed and so are you. The dogs howl loudly signaling to their master that they finally caught you like some sort of wild animal, and only in a few short minutes.

What did you do to deserve this? Your mind is on a loop asking questions such as, "Why," and "Is this karma,". The dogs stop barking and sit obediently guarding you in case you try to run again. You hear Jaemin's footsteps getting closer. His stride so calm and confident compared to your disheveled state. Leaves crush under his boot as he slowly yet surely makes his way towards you.

"I told you, baby," he squats down and whispers in your ear, "you should've known this would happen." He pets your hair, reaching for something in his pocket.

"Yah, baby don't cry. I'll make you feel all better once you're home, where you belong." His voice slithers in your ear making your whole body shiver. Why god, why. He takes out a white cloth and holds it on your mouth and nose, him holding your neck and head securely to keep you still. You let the drugs take effect and let the feeling of sleep overcome you, your body so tired drained from all of the stress and fear you've been under.

"Night night baby." He kisses your eyes shut and proceeds to watch you pass out under his gaze.

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

Slowly your senses start coming back after a few hours. First was your sense of smell. Lavender, a calming smell, contradicting to the fear you feel. You bask in this nice feeling of comfort, but only for this one time. Your hearing comes next. The sound of water trickling down the faucet is soothing and it almost lulls you back to sleep like a lullaby. You start to feel around with your eyes still closed sensing the warm water you're in. This is so nice you think. You stir a bit more trying to stretch your sore limbs, but serendipity can only last so long. You hear a low breathy chuckle as it vibrates against your bareback.

"Babe are you awake?" You feel his breath on you and you have no other option but to open your eyes looking at the calm scene around you. Candles lit and rose petals in the big bathtub.

"Ah babe, good morning. You slept a lot I was getting worried." He caressed your face with his wet hand and you felt against your back that he too was naked and in the tub. With you. You make a groaning sound as you try to get off his chest to get away with whatever little strength you have left, but to no surprise, you fail pathetically under his mocking eyes. His arms wrap around you like a snake and he pulls you to his chest tightly, arms never loosening. Jaemin seated you on his lap with you in his arms, with or without you wanting to in the first place.

"You're going to hurt yourself if you move too much, you ran so much I was worried your legs would break. Who knows what your fragile body can handle." He chuckles sadistically against your body.

"Please Jaemin," you whisper, "why can't you let me go?". Jaemin shushes you and caresses your body. His arms gliding against your skin.

"Because baby, you're just so precious to me, and who knows what other men would do to you." He pauses and settles his nose against the crook of your neck, "And if you dare run away from me again, I'll break your fucking legs." He stops talking and proceeds to lick up your neck. Exchanging the licking to kissing. He peppers your face with kisses making sure not to move on until he licks your tears away. He continues down your neck marking and sucking his favorite spots of you, making you whimper in the process. You don't miss his hearty laugh making your skin tingle under his lips. His hand goes to your tummy and presses it a little.

"This time I'll fuck you hard enough so you won't be able to walk." His hand goes further down, "Or maybe I should stuff your pretty little cunt with my cum." Fingers playing with your clit he continues speaking, and all you can do is listen. Your sole intent on not making a sound. "You'll never be able to leave me if we have a kid." A gasp leaves your sealed tight lips as he rubs your clit, as his other hand sneaks up to your chest to play with your nipple.

His hand probes your entrance and you can't help to moan out loud. He laughs and pulls his fingers out, "Night Night babe." He whispers as he licks up your neck and you don't have time to feel the needle piercing into your skin before it's too late.

"Jaemin...," you call out for him while your vision blurs and your eyes droop as your body goes limp against his.

"My dearest Y/N, all for me."

[evilmcg]

It was moments like this where she remembered just why she loathed the boy. It wasn't just because he was her romantic rival but because of how he could cut deep. He was able to crawl under her skin in a way no one else could. Was bringing him along even a good idea? Technically yes. With his help or even advice this would run much smoother.

Had she been her regular self though she would've fought back. Been able to think of some kind of comeback. Even if it was a lame one that would get her laughed at.

"I'm aware yes." She merely commented with little emotion or patience in her tone. She growled at those words. Apparently taking them very personally. "I wouldn't hurt another meg." She said with sterness in her voice. "She'll be fine."

She gazed at the boy with a confused yet impressed expression as he spoke to this reality's meg. He wasn't expecting him to actually be encouraging in any manner. Sure this meg wasn't her but she couldn't imagine him being nice or decent towards any version of her. Though maybe she was biased seeing how fucked up their dynamic was.

This meg's room didn't appear that much different from her own. In the home she left behind. The walls painted pink which wouldn't be a surprise to mortimer seeing as that was the color she seemed to be obsessed with but rather her usual lavish luxury style her room on the citadel was known for this one was more lived in. Most of the items scattered around the room being stuffed animals. Dolls here and there. Showing that this meg hadn't quite let go of her childhood yet.

Was still holding onto it for what she assumed was due to wanting a sense of comfort in her own personal hell. What remained were romance novels and books about poetry on her bookshelf just next to her desk. The decor itself was simple. Pictures of flowers mostly. Photos of her loved ones here and there. Which were mostly her baby brother stewie, brian and her grandparents.

The girl in question was taken aback from everything that was happening right now. It was a lot of information to take in all at once. First she reacted to the presence of the president. His words were taken to heart. She hadn't thought an almost stranger could say something to her so profound.

"You're morty. I know you. Well know a version of you? Cause there's no way you're him you seem a lot more suave." She flushed a bit in embarrassment. "Not that he's not great. I really like him I do I just..." She paused anxiously pulling on some loose strands of her hair. "Sorry um thank you. I'll..." She paused already feeling like she made a fool of herself.

Which emeg seemed to think was true the way she was wincing a bit in second hand embarrassment. "I'll go get my baby brother." It was then she got on her feet. Brushing herself off. It didn't seem like what this meg wanted to do to her parents was that much of a shock. They hadn't even gone into specifics of their plans but she seemed to already know the score.

"You know I always thought when this day came I'd be the one hurting them." She spoke directing her words at the first lady. "Thank you and I hope you give them what they deserve." Within a moment or two she took her backpack. Putting away a couple stuffed animals before making her way out of her room and towards stewie's to grab the baby.

@countlessrealities

Meg felt a rush of embarrassment at that look. She hated him of course and his opinion of her shouldn't matter but for some reason it does. She hated giving the boy an upperhand in their interactions. His distain and annoyance towards her about everything that she was tended to crawl under her skin in the most uncomfortable infuriating way possible.

She tried to move past that bit of shame quickly gathering herself before stepping through the portal. Huffing a bit as she took his hand. Luckily she felt a bit better once she was in these oh so familiar surroundings. Quahog was once her living hell yes and she certainly preferred the citadel but it served for a good distraction.

Just what she needed to get past this slump she'd been in as of late. "This way." She instructed. Leading the way in front of him. The portal had taken them not to far from her home. Just down the street from it.

Slowly the crept up to her home or atleast a version of her home. To her like in many realities it was identical. "Not every one of them is irredeemable." She began as she crouched behind a bush just behind their home. "First things first we secure my baby brother stewie and our dog brian." She talked as if this was her universe.

She had already killed her own family but various versions of them all felt the same. They never seemed to treat their meg all that different. "Oh and this universe's meg. If we talk to her we can convince her to take those two out while we take care of business."

Though she was doing this firstly for her own benefit she also felt whenever she killed the griffins she was doing a good deed for that version of herself. "But we're not doing this quickly. They deserve to suffer." Her voice had a dark menacing tone to it at that statement.

She grabbed onto a nearby ladder in the yard. Like in her own original reality it was kept there for when the family did roof work. Leaning it up against the house she climbed up. Waiting for the president to follow close behind her as she broke open the window to this meg's bedroom. It appeared she was asleep. So she was a bit startled once they made their way inside.

[buckyownsmylife]

I’ve Told You Now - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where alpha!Bucky fucks you in front of the other avengers

Warnings: smut, a/b/o dynamics, public sex, oral (f), p in v, possessiveness

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: Thank you to my lovely @wakingbeauty​ for giving this a read for me! This is strictly the product of mine and @navybrat817​‘s belief that public sex should be more common in A/B/O dynamics, so there you have it 😊 Also, I used a prompt the sweet @jbreenr​ gave me ages ago for a headcanon and I asked to save it for this story since it made such perfect sense! Hope you guys like it! I might write more public sex A/B/O smut in the very near future!

Bucky’s P.O.V.

Everyday was the same. I’d wake up and join the rest of the team for breakfast to find out that despite the fact that someone had saved me a seat, that same someone had thought of a new joke to make at my expense.

If I thought Tony’s nicknames were bad, this was a whole new level. It’s like she wanted to find all the little ways to annoy me, while still remaining mindful of my recovery process and triggers.

I’d never met an omega like that before. Back in my time, omegas were mostly prim and proper, almost shy around alphas, even if they were starting to show a little more skin and entertain the possibility of staying closer to us for longer periods of time.

I wasn’t used to someone who felt so comfortable with my intimidating aura, and the alpha in me definitely couldn’t grow used to seeing so much of her skin all the time. By now, I was sure she was doing it on purpose.

She knew how it affected me, she could smell it - every omega was able to identify when a nearby alpha was aroused. And I knew it turned her on in return. I was also biologically wired to sense that.

It was basically a game of who would break first. And I knew she thought she would win, but my resolve still wasn’t broken.

“Ah… What a lovely day. So full of possibilities… if you’re not a hundred years old,” she quickly added, throwing me a glance that had me rolling my eyes. “What do you say, grandpa? Feel like going out for a run?”

Who knows what I would have answered if she hadn’t decided to pull her hair up right at the second Wanda opened the window to look out into the field? The smile that had been on my face quickly dropped when I was hit with a heavy wave of her scent and my knees buckled as I tried to hold myself back from just jumping on top of her.

Unfortunately, because awareness was not something she seemed capable of having, she did not realize my struggle. “What’s wrong, old man? Can’t even keep up anymore?” The growl that escaped my chest at her joke was all the warning she needed to finally understand what was going on.

“I’ll show you what I can keep up.” I was on her in a second, my consciousness of our surroundings reduced to absolutely nothing. It was only her and me, and the way our lips moved as I guided her back to the couch, until we both fell on top of it.

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” I asked as I tore her shirt with a simple flick of my wrist. “Is this how you wanted it to happen? For me to lose all control and just take you right here?” All that left her was a garbled sound, her hands clawing at my back as I easily got rid of her jeans until they were nothing but scraps on the floor and then exposed her pussy to the tower’s living room.

“Fuck yes,” I growled, immediately leaning down to get a taste of her. Sweet and wet and mine, all mine. I had no idea where that possessive instinct had come from, but I would be crazy to ignore it - especially since it felt like I’d kill and die for her at that very second.

Her hips jerked up, instinctively searching for my tongue, but a breeze of clarity seemed to brush over her and make her sit up on her elbows, looking down at me. I knew what was running through her mind before she said it, and I wasn’t having any of it.

“You better lay back down and let me savor my meal,” I warned, knowing the rest of the team had gathered around to watch the show. I didn’t have to take my eyes off her debauched state to know it, but her gaze was on them, even if the rest of her body was still spread open for anyone to see, uncaring of the fact that we were being watched.

“You poked the beast, now you’ll entertain it,” Steve warned, shaking his head as if to scold us, but when I met his eyes, I could see the glint of desire in them. He wanted to be in my position, he wanted to have his own tongue shoved deep inside my girl’s pussy, and it only made me eat her more hungrily.

“Eyes on me, ‘mega,” I called out to her once I saw her eyes linger on Steve. “Let them watch, that’ll keep them away from you.” She groaned at the possessiveness in my words, but it was the sounds of someone who was relishing in it. And I was relishing in her juices.

“Fuck!” She cursed when I buried my tongue as far as it could go in her, something deep inside of me desperate to be drowning in her scent. “Should have gotten you mad before.”

The thought was amusing to me. Did she really think this was only the result of pent-up anger, and not months of desire and lust that had finally spilled from my weakened resolve?

“Well…” I started, pushing two fingers inside of her to scissor her open for me, although my scent had already made her body as prepared for an Alpha an Omega could get.

I was a bit larger than usual Alphas, though - courtesy of the serum - so I wanted to make sure she wouldn’t go through any pain whatsoever. “You keep me mad all the fucking time, kitten.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“With desire or anger, it doesn’t really care,” he continued, like it was any ordinary day and we were chatting in the living room, our usual teasing banter taking over the conversation, instead of him eating me out on the couch in front of all of our teammates while I was spread out for their eyes to take in.

“You’re always a tease to me, in one way or another.” His huge hands massaged the inside of my thighs as he finally lowered himself to suck on my nub again, making me instinctively buck my hips up in search of his tongue.

“Stay…” he ordered in his Alpha tone, and the whine that broke free from my chest was more animal than human now. The way he used his mouth was nothing short of sinful, licking me from ass to clit with an eagerness I had never expected the former Winter Soldier to have.

But I guess today I was discovering all of my fantasies about Bucky had been a bit misplaced. For one, I never thought he’d be the type of Alpha to take me in such a public environment.

In every dirty dream I’d had, Bucky was far too possessive to allow anyone to explore what was his - even if it was only visually - but what I’d come to learn was that while he was definitely dominating, there was a hint of exhibitionism in his craving.

He liked to have people see him break me into a million pieces only to glue me back together with a lick of his tongue. He liked that they were seeing his talent - and I had to admit, by what I saw in his friend’s stare, that they were also admiring me too.

And he got off on that. I didn’t expect it would make me get off too.

“Delicious,” he hummed when he finally pulled away from my cunt, having brought me to my release and licked it off of me. Still, an overwhelming amount of wetness covered the lower part of his face, prompting me to raise myself to my elbows and lick my own juices off of his lips, the omega in me begging to scent him as mine.

“You’re a nasty little bitch, aren’t you?” He chuckled once the surprise faded away, easily manhandling me onto my stomach, the sound of a zipper being opened denouncing that he had undressed.

“Keep fucking me and you’ll find out.” I heard him spitting behind me, a shiver running up my spine as I realized he was playing with himself while looking at me presenting for him.

“Oh, I’ll do much better than that.” That was all the warning I got before I felt the head of his member poking my entrance, slowly but surely sliding in until he had bottomed out.

My whines became intensified when he pulled me up by my hair, his free hand covering my breast to rub my nipple as he whispered, “I’m gonna claim you, sweetheart. You think you’re ready for that? Think you’ll be able to take it?”

I was quickly realizing I had severely underestimated the man inside of me, even if not to the extent he thought I had. I was not ready for that. I don’t think I ever would be, but fuck if I wasn’t gonna take it anyway.

Because it was so much better than I ever imagined it to be.

“No more playing hard-to-get,” Bucky continued, finally starting to move and immediately settling on a punishing pace. “No more teasing me with your short skirts and tempting scent. You’ll be mine now, ‘mega. Forever. How does that sound?”

God, I wanted him to do it. I wanted him to keep exercising this complete control over my body that he had so easily managed to take. His cock was stretching me in ways I’d never been stretched before, his inflated knot slamming against my opening with each thrust.

“Always mocking me… Am I too old for you now?” I shivered as he licked a stripe up my neck. I knew he wouldn’t actually bite me in front of everyone - a claiming ritual was a sacred ritual, even the most feral of Alphas respected the intimacy of that. But the way he was taunting me was all too arousing, I couldn’t deny it. “Tell me.”

His hand squeezed my hip, looking for an answer. I tried to open my mouth, but nothing came out. His palm slipped further down, finding my clit, and as two fingers rubbed my own juices, around it, I screamed.

“N-No!” Bucky chuckled against my neck, body continuing his onslaught against mine as he nuzzled my scent gland. “Y-you’re not too old for me. Take me, take me please.” His coos were too provoking, making me cry out loud at the mocking sound.

“Aw, kitten…” His warm mouth breathed the next words against my ear, “I already did.” He turned my face towards his with his fingers tangled in my hair, engulfing my mouth with his.

“Alright.” A familiar voice spoke from not too far, startling me for a second as I once again was reminded that we were still very much surrounded by our team. “You two might just be the sexiest mates I’ve ever seen fuck.”

A growl escaped Bucky’s chest at hearing someone refer to us as mates for the first time, and I panted in need, desperate to cum, desperate for him. “Seen a lot of mates fuck, Romanoff?” He nibbled at my ear, hands roaming over my body as if to make it very clear to every person watching that they could look all they wanted, I was still his.

“You have no idea.” Looking over a bit to the side from where she was seated, there rested Sam’s almost limp body, a hand curled over his boner as his eyes never wavered from the place I was connected to the man behind me.

“Well, I know what I’m gonna think about tonight.” Something between a laugh and a moan escaped me, making Bucky growl again, hands pushing me back down onto the couch as his hips picked up the pace with which they’d ruin me.

To say I was soaked was the understatement of the century. I could feel it, running down my thighs, drenching the couch underneath me. I don’t know how we’d be able to use it again, but that was the least of my concerns in the moment.

“I am begging you to let me lick her pussy after you guys are done,” came Tony’s voice, and I knew Bucky would growl in his direction just from the way his fingers pressed tightly on the flesh of my hips. “Not that type of Alpha, sorry, I got it.”

I heard his footsteps retreating quickly, probably scared of what Bucky would do to him once we were done, but in the Alpha’s defense, Tony seemed to disappear from his mind the second he left the room, all of his senses directed to me and his goal of making me cum around his cock.

“C’mon, kitten,” he whispered, fingers easily locating my clit to play with me as he pulled me up to rest against his chest one more. “Come for me, milk me dry.” That was all I needed to give him what he wanted, and although I was anticipating to moan loudly as I creamed his knot, his mouth covered mine to swallow all of my sounds in a deep kiss, hands protectively covering me while pawing at my breasts at the same time.

“Steve,” Bucky called after he managed to catch his breath, having fallen on top of me on the couch once his knot popped open. “I won’t be able to work out with you today.”

I looked up as best as I could to find Steve already staring at us, although red from head to toe. “That’s understandable,” he spoke in a thick, rough voice that I barely recognized as his. “You seem to have worked out enough already.”

Bucky stopped running his nose against my cheek at his friend’s attempt at teasing, a slow smirk taking over his face as he joined me and stared at his friend. “Oh, I’m not nearly done,” he warned. “You’re more than welcome to join us for some cardio, if you want to.”

The soft smile Steve sent our way told us everything we needed to know about his plans for the evening.

[dyns33]

The Devil’s Lawyer - Bonus Part 11

Matt Murderdock x Nice Lawyer Reader : Nightmare edition ! (Bonus part 10 here)

Most of the time, Matt either didn't sleep or he slept peacefully. But not like the dead. His sleep was calm, regular, but he would be on his feet in a second if he heard something suspicious.

He didn't dream often.

And when that happened, the dreams weren't pleasant.

Y/N groaned when she felt him moving against her, then when he shook her awake, looking slightly panicked, asking her to go hide in the closet.

           "... What ? Why ?" she muttered, not quite awake.

           "They're here. They're coming for you. They want revenge."

           "...Matt, they're dead. You killed them, remember ? You're the leader now. Along with Elektra. Otomo-san and his ninjas are watching the building. Go back to sleep."

He did not say anything. Listening and sniffling, Matt quickly realized she was right. But he did not go back to sleep, remaining on the lookout, sitting in the bed, imitated by Cat which had sensed that his Master was worried, while Y/N fell asleep again.

She was used to it now.

Matt's nightmares were often a reflection of his fears, and his past, which he didn't like to talk about.

Y/N had never asked him about it. She had guessed some things, he had mumbled others, but she never got the full picture.

When Matt was having nightmares, it was becoming more concrete.

The first time he had a bad dream, they had been together for several months. This happened after the incident in court with the shooter, who had disturbed his hearing. He was better, everything was perfectly fine, but in the middle of the night, Matt had panicked, jumping out of bed and fidgeting like he didn't know where he was.

           "I... I can't see anything. I can't see !"

           "Your ears are blocked again ?" she asked cautiously as she moved closer to touch him, which made him shiver.

           "No... My eyes, my... I... Oh, yes. That's right."

           "Matt, are you okay ?"

Grimacing, as if feeling ashamed, he quickly said that she shouldn't worry, taking her hand as they went back to bed.

Y/N later realized that he had dreamed of his accident, when he was a child, and that he had lost his sight. She imagined when he woke up at the hospital, alone, not being able to see. The next morning, she kissed him on the cheek. Matt didn't seem happy, but he let her do it, blushing a bit.

Another time she woke up because he was crying. His sobs weren't loud, but with a small voice he was repeating "Dad. Mommy." over and over.

Matt never talked about his mother, and almost never about his father, except to teach her some of his boxing skills, or say that Y/N was as stubborn and hopeful as his old man was. Those were nice compliments.

It was known in Hell's Kitchen that little Murdock had been present when his parents died. He had lost his eyes with his mother, then Jack had been murdered, and the kid seemed to have heard everything even if he waiting for him at home, running in the street and towards his father's body.

Gently, not knowing if she should wake him up or not, Y/N took Matt in her arms, kissing him. He calmed down a little, certainly awake now but not moving, before imitating her and putting his arms around her.

Normally, in these kinds of moments, people would say that everything was fine, that it was over.

But that would have seemed wrong and cruel.

Y/N knew it wasn't over. It would never be over. Matt was living with this every day. It was a part of him.

So she said nothing, continuing to rock and kiss him until he fell asleep again.

The next day, as always, they didn't talk about the nightmare. She kissed him again.

Y/N knew Matt well by now. He didn't like to talk about such things. Not just the memories, but his attitude. Crying and asking for hugs were for children. He would be ashamed, and so he would behave like a wild animal, growling, making his cute, ridiculous pout, before running away.

They didn't talk about it, but he knew she was thinking about it, staring at him, then forcing herself not to stare at him, and it wasn't because she was judging him or she was curious, but because she was worried, because she loved him.

So without saying anything Matt would kiss her too, quickly, almost shyly, before leaving for work. Then he would send her a message with lots of smileys in the middle of the day, so that she knew he was fine, and everything was back to normal, or at least their kind of normal.

There was one nightmare which was different from the others, once.

She thought there an attack and that he was dying when he started screaming. Matt's screams were inhuman. Indescribable.

Seeing that there was no one in the room and that he was still sleeping, writhing in pain, Y/N immediately threw herself on him without thinking to try to wake him up.

Bad idea.

Still in his nightmare, Matt didn't recognize her and thought she was an enemy.

Without the slightest difficulty, he pushed her back, pinned her against the bed and he began to strangle her.

           "Ma…Matt…" she articulated with difficulty trying to move his hands, hitting his shoulders and face.

But Matt didn't hear her. His face was neutral, but his eyes full of anger.

As she began to run out of air, Cat intervened. He jumped on his Master's back, hissing, clawing and biting him.

This seemed to wake Matt, who let go of her neck to turn to the animal, which continued to growl as he stood in the corner of the room.

Then slowly, with fear on his face, he turned his attention back to Y/N who was under him, coughing, rubbing the back of her neck, trying to breathe.

She knew Matt well.

She knew very well what he was thinking right now, and what he was going to do.

As soon as he made a move to get off the bed, she caught up with him, despite his protests, wrapping her arms and legs around him to keep him from running away.

           "Matt. No. Don't panic."

           "I hurt you !"

           "It wasn't you ! It was a nightmare, calm down."

           "I almost killed you ! I was going to kill you !"

Since she couldn't ask him to look at her, she grabbed his hand to force him to put it on her chest, on her heart, so that he would listen and understand that she wasn't lying.

           "I'm not afraid of you. I'm not angry. I love you."

This seemed to calm him down a bit, though he continued to wince in pain, moaning.

Otomo-san and his ninjas arrived at this moment, having heard the cries and coming to help their Master and his wife.

If Matt heard them, he didn't show it. With a wave of her hand, still holding Matt, Y/N silently told them to leave as soon as possible. Otomo-san seemed to understand what had happened, bowing before obeying.

Even though he knew she wasn't mad, Matt avoided her for the next few days. When he wasn't out, he stayed away from her, refusing to talk, sleeping on the sofa. He didn't dare to touch her.

It was ridiculous, and at the same time Y/N understood.

She guessed what he had dreamed of. The training.

This fucking training.

If the leaders of the Hand weren't already dead, she would have hunted them down herself one by one.

Since she understood, she didn't rush him, trusting him and letting him come back to her when he would be ready.

It happened while she was taking a shower, he joined her without saying a word, running a trembling finger on her neck, before putting his head on her shoulder, muttering that he was sorry.

He couldn't see the marks, and Y/N wasn't sure he could feel them, but he knew they were there.

To avoid questions, knowing how Foggy and Gwen would react if they saw this, she had worn a scarf and turtlenecks all week.

           "I will never hurt you again. Never again." he promised.

           "I know."

           "Cat hates me."

           "No." she chuckled, taking him in her arms.

It was true that Cat had been suspicious of him since the incident. He stayed close to Y/N, as if he wanted to protect her, staring at Matt with big, stern eyes, reading to jump on him again if it was necessary.

But seeing that she accepted his touch, Cat relaxed a little, accepting again that his Master caressed him.

The premium meat probably helped a lot too.  Matt wanted to congratulate him and thank him for what he had done. He didn't want to think about what might have happened if Cat hadn't stop him.

He didn't punish Otomo-san, but he ordered him to be faster next time, even though he hoped there would never be a next time.

So, yes, most of the time, Matt's sleep was calm, or full of nightmares.

That was why; this morning, Y/N was pleasantly surprised to see that Matt was smiling while he was still sleeping. It made her smile too. It was unusual.

He purred as she stroked his cheek, moving closer to her and placing his hands on her stomach, before jumping, waking up right away.

           "The baby !"

           "... What ?"

           "Where's the baby ? And Jack ?"

           "Jack ?"

           "Our son ! Our… Oh." Matt said realizing what was going on, blushing with a little pout, his head falling back on the pillow in which he seemed to want to hide.

A family. He had dreamed that they had a family, a son, and that she was pregnant, and he had liked that. He had been happy, he who repeated that he did not want children. Ever.

Y/N could have teased him with that.

But that would have been a little mean. It didn't make much sense, she really thought he would be a great father, but she accepted his decision.

It was at this moment that Cat chose to leave the bed to slowly walk out of the room, indicating that he was hungry and was going to wait by his bowl until they finally got up to feed him.

If they took too long, he would meow. If that didn't work, he would come back to sit on Matt's face and choke him until he gave in.

           "Our baby just left."

           "Very funny."

           "Yes, I'm a very funny person. Get up now, we're going to be late. You're your own boss, but Foggy won't be happy if I'm not there on time."

           "Nelson is never on time."

           "Exactly, it's me who saves his ass from Karen every time, and in exchange he brings me coffee and a donut. It's a system that works. Get up !"

Matt didn't get up right away, stayed in bed, his empty eyes the ceiling with a weird expression. Maybe he was thinking of Jack, little Jack, who didn't exist, but with whom he had certainly talked and played with in his dream, and also of the baby, whose heartbeats he must have heard under his hand.

But he was smiling when he joined her in the kitchen, grabbing her from behind to kiss and bite her neck, holding her against him.

As if he needed to touch to be sure that it was real. It was more than he could have dreamed of before meeting Y/N, and Matt seemed content with what they had.

And if it was a dream, it was a nice one, and he was hoping he would never wake up.

[fandom-puff]

Mating

Pairing: Remus Lupin X Reader

Requested by: anon

Summary: you’ve done a good enough job of covering up your attraction to your new colleague... that is until the moon cycle heightens his senses...

AN: I’m getting there with these requests! I’ve been going through them at my own pace- sorry if I’ve rejected your request though- id rather not write it if I don’t have the inspiration to do so 💖💖💖

Also I went to TOWN on this one, so feedback is greatly appreciated !!

Gif creds to owner as usual x

Warnings: rough, possessive sex, swearing, breeding kink , werewolf tricks (scents, mating, knotting)

Drawing your robe tighter around yourself, silently cursing Severus for putting people in detention. You had agreed to take over his patrols for the night, when in reality, you wanted nothing more than to go to bed. Sighing, you held your lit wand out in front of you, walking up the corridor, occasionally nodding at a passing ghost, telling Peeves to bugger off, greeting snoozing portraits...

The silence of the dark corridors allowed you to mull over your thoughts, figure out some lesson plans, what you would get people for christmas the next time you visited Hogsmeade, but as usual, your train of thought wandered, soon landing on a particular Professor. Smiling dumbly to yourself, you pictures him in your mind, from his grey-flecked hair to his shabby, patched robes; his kind, tired eyes to his light stubble and moustache; his trim chest to his long, elegant fingers...

Shuddering slightly, you tugged your lip between your teeth. What that man could do with his fingers, you mused, remembering at dinner earlier that evening, watching as he wrapped his hands around his goblet- you came to the conclusion that those fingers would look much better wrapped around your throat...

You were so lost in your thoughts that you bumped headlong into the object of your desires. How did you know it was him? Was it his gentle hands grasping your arms to stop you falling backwards? Was it the gentle words he uttered asking if you were okay? No. It was his scent, of all things, which lingered on his comfy knitted jumper- tea and books and... the forbidden forest... you couldn’t help but inhale a few gulps before mumbling your apology, making to move past him. Those hands grabbed your arm again, stopping you dead in your tracks.

“Why not walk with me, YN? Your patrol won’t be as lonely,” he said kindly, smiling down at you. You could see a slight glint of his white teeth in the wandlight as you nodded. Together and in relative silence, you strolled the corridors, occasionally murmuring to one another- yes the weather had been a bit rubbish lately, that book is excellent, no I didn’t know it’s the full moon in three days...

You knew about remus’s condition, as everyone on the staff did. Why was he bringing it up? Did he think you were scared? Did he think you would run away once it clicked? You didn’t care that he was a werewolf, of course you didn’t. If anything, it often made you wonder what he was like in bed before the Full moon. He seemed tired all the time, but you had read about mating- would mild-mannered Remus Lupin evolve into a primal beast? Would he dig his nails into your skin as he got carried away? Would he fuck you from behind like an animal? Did he have a deep-rooted urge to fill you with his seed and watch you swell with his pups...?

“YN? You aren’t listening to a word I’m saying, are you?” Remus’s voice shook you from your depraved thoughts.

“Hmm?” You asked, letting out a shaky breath. Your knees were wobbly and you could feel heat and wetness pooling in your knickers. You would most certainly be fucking yourself tonight thinking of him.

“I said we’re at my rooms. You’re very welcome to come in for a cup of tea if you like? Might have something stronger in a cupboard somewhere for a nightcap,” he said, smirking slightly. Were your eyes deceiving you or did he just lick his lips?

“I... Er... yes please?” You said, nibbling your lip. Your midnight masturbation would have to wait tonight it seemed. You took a seat on one of Lupin’s armchairs as he pottered about the kitchenette, fixing tea for you both. He soon carried it over and sat opposite you as you sipped at your drinks, once again silent. Remus inhaled deeply through his nose and leg out a soft sigh, before fixing you with a stare, his eyes flashing amber- or was that just the firelight playing tricks?

“God, I wish I was a legilimens,” he hummed. You frowned, cocking up your eye brow and setting your teacup down.

“Why’s that?” You asked, leaning forward, your lips slightly parted.

“Because I’d be able to figure out what’s got you so aroused,” he murmured. You gulped, biting your lip hard as you stared at one another before your lips were smashed together in a messy, desperate kiss. Your teeth clashed and you were both grabbing handfuls of the other’s hair as Remus pulled you into his lap, moaning lowly. “I guess that answers that question,” he grunted as you tipped your head back and sighed.

“H-how did you know?” You gasped as his teeth scraped right over your pulse point.

“Your eyes glaze over when you daydream,” he grinned, nibbling your earlobe. “And do you want to know a lesser-known fact about werewolves?” You nodded eagerly, your nails scraping over his scalp. “Around and on the full moon, our senses peak. Touch, hearing, sight, taste... smell... I could smell your arousal before we were even on the same corridor, YN... now tell me... was that all for me?”

You shuddered as his growl vibrates through your throat. “Yes!” You whimpered, trying to grind on him, but there were too many layers between you both and you whined out dejectedly. “A-all for you, Remus, f-for ages now!” Remus grunted and licked at the blood vessel at the side of your neck, you pulse throbbing against his tongue.

“I know, darling. Moony knows...” you sighed softly, eyes rolling back as you felt gentle hands on your waist, stilling your movements. “If we carry on, YN... Moony will take over. He will claim you as his mate, eternally. If that is what you want, I am more than happy to oblige, but if you are even a shred unsure, please leave my chambers. We can discuss this after the moon when it is safe-”

You pressed a tender kiss to his lips, pulling away and resting your forehead against his. “I want this. I’ve wanted this for ages... please, remus, I’m yours. I’ve felt... drawn to you since we met. It makes sense,”

He smiled weakly. “You understand what you are getting yourself into, this close to the moon? Our first coupling together will not be tender. Passionate, most certainly, but by no means gentle,” you could feel his hands trembling from the effort of keeping control.

“I’m yours, remus,” you whispered, bringing one of his hands down to cup your soaked, clothed heat, biting your lip hard. “I want this. Please, remus, mate with me,”

It was as if something snapped inside him. Without the aid of your hand, he pressed his hand into your heat, feeling how slick you were even through your knickers, attacking your neck with feverish kisses as you rutted against his hand, the heel of his palm mashing into your clit in the most deliciously searing way. Reluctantly, remus pulled his hand away, kissing away your whimpers of protest as he carried you to his bedroom, flinging you down on the bed and hovering over you, his thumb and forefinger tracing the hem of your shirt. “Take it off, remus,” you begged, and he was all too happy to oblige, soon stripping you to your underwear. Gulping, he looked you in the eye as he trailed one finger up your navel, grinning as you shivered and arched your back. “Need to feel you, Remus, please!” You pleaded. Normally, remus would be unwilling to undress fully, ashamed of his scars, but this close to the Moon, he had only one thing on his mind. Almost comically quickly, he tugged his jumper, shirt and trousers off, kicking them aside, practically pouncing on you to kiss you again. You pouted at not being quite able to see his erection straining at his boxers, but were quickly consoled when you felt it pressing hard against your thighs.

“Remus!” You moaned, trailing your hands up his strong back, your fingertips dancing over the silvery ridges of his scars, clutching onto him as though your life depended on it. You could feel the heat radiating off him, hear his pulse quickening just like your own, hear him panting above you. You were so close to him, yet so far, your underwear providing an unbearably wide wall between you both as you longed to feel him against your most sensitive parts. As if reading your mind, remus briefly pulled away and with a flick of his wand, you were both completely bare. Mouth ajar, you eyed up his cock, feeling your cunt clench around nothing at just the thought of accommodating his throbbing length and girth. Sensing your worry, remus nuzzled his face into your neck and kissed your pulse point gently. “I won’t hurt you, darling,” he whispered. “Nor will Moony,” nodding, you spread your legs. Remus groaned as he inhaled, already getting drunk off the scent of your soaked nether region. “Another time, my dear, I am going to drink from your cunt until you can’t come any more,”

You shivered and nodded, biting your lip. “That had best be a promise,” you moaned out, pushing his hair out of his face, breathy gasps and moans escaping you as you felt the bulbous head of his cock tapping against your throbbing clit. “Please, remus,” you begged, your legs moving instinctively to wrap around him.

Your begging was all he needed. He pushed his thick cock into you, stretching you out, grasping your hips to stop your wiggling as he revelled in the soaking heat of your clenching channel, soon moving his hands to grasp your thighs and hold them further apart. “I am going to mate with you, yn,” he growled. “I am going to claim you as mine, and I will be yours. I will fill you with my seed until your swollen with my pups. And when I come, you will feel my cock swell inside you to make sure my seed takes root,”

The filth spewing from his lips had your head reeling, and you bucked your hips up eagerly, begging him to do all of those things as he began fucking you relentlessly, the sounds of skin slapping and the wet noises of your coupling filling the small room as you gripped onto eachother. Remus’s lips found yours and you moaned loudly into his mouth as his tongue collided with yours before he sucked on it gently, sending jolts of pleasure sizzling through your every nerve. You had never felt more alive, more full, more worshiped than you did in that moment, your nails dug into remus’s arms as his thrusting became sloppy as he neared his end. “P-please don’t stop, Remus! Don’t pull out, please! Need to feel you fill me up properly!” You cried, your head resting on his shoulder. Remus grunted and nodded, his hips snapping hard against yours as he neared his peak.

“Bite my neck, YN, love!” He grunted. “Mark me as your mate while I do the same to- Ah! Fuck! Good girl!” You sunk your teeth into his pulse point, sucking harshly. Instinctively, you knew just where to bite, and you gently licked over the wound, moaning lowly as you felt the base of his cock begin to swell as he stilled inside you, the first spurt of cum painting your walls as his groaned out lowly. He basked in his orgasm for a brief moment, before leaning down to suck and bite your neck the same way you had.

You screamed.

The bite to your neck caused a white-hot surge of pleasure to rip through you as you felt your trembling body come undone, your stretched walls clenching tight around Remus’s swollen cock, milking every last drop out of him as you panted, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sobbed from the overwhelming pleasure and the rush of hormones your mating had caused.

Cooing gently, remus lowered you carefully onto your side, facing him, his cock still swollen inside you for the time being. The slight movement had you whimpering and Reaching up to kiss him messily. “I love you,” you moaned, hiding your face in his neck as your body relaxed.

Remus smiled gently and kissed your head and face over and over, pushing your hair out of your eyes. “I’m sorry it was so intense, darling. It’s not always like that, I promise,” he whispered.

“N-no... I loved that. The connection, both emotional and... physical,” you reached up and stroked the tender bite at your throat, shuddering as it twinged. “I am yours,” you murmured, reaching to kiss him gently.

“And I am yours,” he responded, stroking your hair. “My beautiful, beautiful mate, I love you,”

Soon, his cock softened enough to slip out of you, and you groaned softly, already very achey from your coupling. Remus smiled apologetically and spelled away the remnants of your pleasure, tugging the covers up around you. Instinctively, you massaged your lower belly, although you knew it was unlikely that he had knocked you up so soon, especially as you were on wizarding contraceptives. You frowned slightly, a sad twinge rattling your innermost instincts. Remus laughed gently.

“Soon, sweetheart. Soon you will swell with my pups. Just not quite yet,” he said gently, knowing that your mating would have unlocked something deep rooted in your instincts, something rather maternal. You pouted a little but nodded, curling into his side. He was right. There would be plenty of time for breeding later. Before then, you and your mate had some catching up to do before the full moon...

Tags: @a-hopeless-fan @lotsoffandomrecs @justanotherwildstar @rai-strangebr @zodiyack @haphazardhufflepuff @dumbfuckinslytherin @severuslovebot @darkthought15 @rabeccablake @sambucky8 @eleven-times-lively @talksoprettyjjx @extra-trash77 @rangerelik @dracosbbygorl

[sombreboy]

the alpha⇢hybrid!pjm

⤍18+ ⤍pairing: wolf!hybrid Jimin x human!female reader ⤍genre: pwp smut, hybrid, stranger fuck ⤍word count: 8.5k ⤍warnings: sub!y/n, dom!pjm, profanity, drinking, blowjob, jimin’s compliment kink knows no bounds, he calls you little lamb a lot, degdrading names, unprotected sex, creampie/knotting, light impreg kink, mating, rough fucking, licking, torrential downpour of cum.

A/N: Co-written with lovely @ppersonna​ as an rp. ♡

So why were you dressed up like a bitch in heat, entering the exact club you tried so hard to avoid? Because, deep down, it’s all you wanted. You knew that deep down you desired someone strong and powerful, someone superior to you, to take and claim you as their own—their plaything.

The city never sleeps. A saying that has been true for the past century, and it remains true til this day, where humans and hybrids now coexist as equals. Well, as equal as it gets. Hybrids were a superior species with their mixed genetics, gaining attributes from said animals that they have in them. Whether it be stronger bodies, beautiful patterns and physical alterations– they were seen as the greater species. But yet humans managed to keep up, somewhat. It wasn’t that much different. Park Jimin is one of those hybrids. His genetics were intertwined with that of a white wolf, giving his hair a bright blonde color. However, he had it dyed not too long ago, so the color was instead a washed out purple mixed into his blonde curls. His irises were a bright orange, pupils as black as the leather jacket and pants he wore. One wouldn’t think he looked terribly intimidating at a first glance, but his stare could make anybody feel a shiver run down their spine from the sheer intensity of it.

He was the alpha, after all.

Jimin spent every single night at a nightclub that was famous specifically for being dominated by the predatory hybrids. Lions, tigers, snakes, foxes… Wolves. Jimin’s pack was the hybrids that people came for most of the time.For what, you may ask? To get thoroughly fucked without mercy, of course. But that was only possible if you caught their interest, or you’d have to settle for the snake.

Jimin’s pack consisted of three other wolf hybrids… Hoseok, the beta. Which practically means he’s one rank below Jimin, who is the leader. The other two hybrids are Namjoon and Yoongi, who are one rank below Hoseok, making them the deltas. They don’t care, they are content to just follow along with what their leader says, but are often given their own choice to do however they please either way. Together, they form quite the diverse group, and they were notorious and alluring for newcomers and common faces.

Jimin loved it, the dark, crowded underground venue, flashing lights, alcohol… And humans. More often than not, only hybrid women came by. Rich ones. Easy to spot. But what truly had the wolf riled up, was when a human would stumble in. Their scent was an entirely different game. He allowed his pack to separate, but never going too far as they headed to find their own prey for the night, while Jimin himself remained still, leaning against the bar counter with a pink, sugary drink in his hand, straw tightly pressed between his plushy, glossy lips.

It was time to hunt.

~

You weren’t sure what came over you—what drew you to the idea of leaving your cozy and safe, structured life and entering the dark unknown. The nightclub was somewhere you previously steered clear of, even crossed the street to avoid being next to it when walking by. It was decidedly not your scene, and the idea of the strong, intuitive hybrids sent a chill down your spine.

So why were you dressed up like a bitch in heat, entering the exact club you tried so hard to avoid? Because, deep down, it’s all you wanted. You stayed away from it like a drug. You knew the moment you gave in, you’d sink down the black hole into utter depravity. You knew that deep down you desired someone strong and powerful, someone superior to you, to take and claim you as their own—their plaything. It was hard to be confident in such a stifling environment. Your tight little crop top covered only the barest of your modesty, and the tight skirt accentuated your curves. The confidence you felt in the mirror of your apartment soon dissipated as you walked into the loud club. You could feel the hungry stares, the intense eyes of all the men and women in the place.

You didn’t know who or what you were looking for—rather, hoping they would find you instead. You craved the idea of giving up your power, your control to someone who could hold it over you and force you into submission. The thought made your core burn with need. The bartender slid your simple cocktail towards you with a wink as you settled into the stool awkwardly, trying to appear much stronger than the scared little human you were. You knew they all could smell it on you—the mixture of fear and arousal. So many of them approached you, attempted to charm their way inside you, but none of them felt right. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe you should have stayed home. You can’t help but feel a burn of shame and disappointment as you chug your drink as quickly as you can to make a desperate dash towards the door.

Your nervous eyes skittered around the room, watched as each ravenous alpha eye-fucked you. It was terrifying, intimidating. It cemented just how wrong you were to come here, until— he came into view. Your breath nearly collapsed in your lungs as you took in the vision of the lavender haired man. He was gorgeous. Not just attractive but ethereal in his visage. Your pupils dilated, heart rate increased as you stared at him. You were blatant in your gaze, unable to wrench your eyes elsewhere. He was simply the most captivating man you’ve ever seen in your life, and your body burned with desperate need for him. After moments of desperate staring, you finally shake yourself off and peer down at your empty drink. Was it him? What was so magnetic about the lithe man? Could he be the one to finally claim what you needed to give up? Your cheeks burned with a mixture of shame and need, hoping that he didn’t notice your blatant ogling. Fuck.

Jimin’s fiery gaze flickered to meet yours the very second he felt your eyes on him, straw still tightly sucked between his lips. He crooked a coy eyebrow at you as he pushed himself up from his leaning position to stand upright, no hesitation in his bones in the way he slowly sauntered over to you. His hips swayed in a light strut, mesmerizing in every sense of the word; the predatory genes within giving him these very traits to be alluring for it’s prey. And it seemed to be working, with the way your eyes were glued on him. He stopped when he was right in front of you, giving just enough space for him to be able to observe your fit from top to bottom, but close enough for you to smell his distinct scent. Sweet, calming– arousing. His natural pheromones didn’t leave anybody unaffected, even turning heads on his way, eyes wide with both surprise and envy that the alpha had approached… well, you. “How refreshing with a new face.” Jimin’s canary voice was sweet, yet it had an undertone of a light growl. His canines poked out as he smiled, plush upper lip curling up to showcase his pearly whites further.

Your blush furthered a deeper shade of rose as he approached. Fuck. He definitely saw you staring. The power in his gaze and strut over to you screamed alpha. Hopefully he wasn’t the kind to bite and then ask questions. You’d unfortunately run into that type before.

The blood in your veins pulsed hard, skyrocketing your nerves. He looked so good. It was almost unfair that someone so fucking beautiful existed. You felt small and plain in comparison to the gorgeous man. His whole being exuded sultry command. You nibbled at your bottom lip as he sauntered up to you. Your body was reacting already to his presence, his voice. The entire club was staring at you, curious of the exchange that would happen between the exquisite man and you, the nervous little human. “I-,” you struggled to answer. If he wasn’t aware of how nervous you were before, he would be now—surely. “I don’t really come to these types of places.”

Try as you might, you couldn’t stop staring at the man’s gorgeous pout and terrifyingly attractive teeth. Your heart beat pounded hard in your head, overpowering the loud beat of music.

“D-do you come here often?” You asked, hoping to be polite despite the pooling arousal and growing fear.

Jimin’s smile slowly morphed into a wolfish grin, the apple of his cheeks puffing up until his eyes were shaped like small crescent moons. He almost looked harmless and inviting. “Cute…” he mused under his breath before he took a daring step closer to you, his hand reaching out to gently run his fingers through the piece of stray hair that had fallen forward over your face. He brought the locks to his nose, inhaling deeply. A low rumble vibrated in his chest.. You smelled divine. Even through the shampoo and possible product, he could smell your scent behind it all. “Yeah, I come here, every. single. night…” Jimin winked before withdrawing his hand to let it settle on his hip, his stance powerful and graceful. His dark pupils quivered when he raked down your body for a second time, the wolf ears sticking out from his hair flickering with curiosity. “Why are you here, little lamb?” He cooes at you, licking his upper teeth as he steps closer. He had no problem hearing you through the booming music, but how would you know? It gave him more of an excuse to get closer. “Looking like that?” Of course he knew why. He could smell why. But it was of no news that Jimin loved to play with his prey, ramp up the anxiety until he could practically taste it on his tongue.

Your heart thumped so loud in your chest you were sure all of the club could hear it. If they couldn’t, they definitely could smell the thrum of anxiety pulsing through you. His voice sizzled in your veins, erupting into flames as it enveloped you. Then, he touched you. The simple act of moving your hair had your mind reeling. You could smell him—he was so close you wanted to bury your face in his chest and breathe deeply. His question caught you off guard. Why were you here? Did you even know the answer to that? Your cherry cheeks flushed and you ducked your head, trying to avoid his sultry and tempting gaze. He continued to get closer and it made you tremble with a mix of fright and need. His power was overwhelming, and all you wanted to do was kneel for him.

“I’m—…not quite sure,” you spoke truthfully as you took another sip of your rapidly melting drink. “I’ve never been here before. I think I wanted something… scary.” Your big doe eyes sought out his, so mystifying with their exotic color and shape. He was truly so gorgeous it made your mouth salivate. You squirmed in your seat, suddenly feeling self conscious of your outfit. “My friend told me I should wear something sexy.” Your cheeks were so hot, so embarrassed by how easily you wanted to give into the terrifyingly attractive alpha. “I’m wondering if maybe this was a bad idea…”

 Although the music around them was blaring, it felt like a long moment of silence dragged on between the two when Jimin didn’t answer for a hot second. He kept his stare fixed on your face, the small expressions of embarrassment, curiosity, and purity drew him in. He’s truly never encountered a human like you before. One that dared to come here despite being so… weak. It was like you were begging to be eaten, dangling like a fresh piece of the finest meat in front of all these hungry predators. Jimin could hear it, the rumbling growls and groans of men in the room, hoping that the alpha wolf would lose interest and leave a piece for them to get a taste.

“Scary?” He suddenly chirped, his smile more of a smirk at this point as he placed his drink on the bar counter, ice jumping in the glass from the harsh clonk. He bent forward to shamelessly brush his cheek against yours, a subtle way of rubbing his scent off on your skin, knowing it’d avert some of the attention around him– he’s already begun to claim you for himself. His hot breath fanned your ear as he spoke.

“I can smell your lust for fear, little lamb… Do I scare you?” Jimin’s hand softly snaked down the curve of your hip, smoothing his ring-clad fingers down your thigh until he was greeted by your scorching skin. He squeezed the flesh between his digits, cold rings digging into your thigh as he exhaled another hot, quivering breath against your neck, loving the way your scent was slowly mixing with his own.

The man’s simple action of brushing his cheek against your own had your body seizing up. You could smell him as he rubbed his soft skin on yours—a heady mix of something fruity and something naturally luscious. It embarrassed you to know how arousing his simple act had been. You chided yourself internally for feeling your body heat at his gentle action. You licked your lips as he whispered hot words into your ear, making a tingle travel down your spine.

“Y-yes,” you murmured. “You scare me more than anyone h-here.” His hands gripping your thigh made a quiet moan escape your lips. It was desperate. You felt overstimulated and yet so desperate to be touched by the terrifying alpha. Suddenly feeling emboldened, your hands gripped at his sides, slipping under his expensive shirt to touch at the toned skin of his obliques and anchoring yourself to him there.

Jimin’s hand flew down to wrap his fingers around your small wrist, blunt nails digging into your soft skin. His hand on your thigh swiftly withdrew, and the loss of his warmth had you internally whining for more. “Did I say you could touch me?” His voice wasn’t hostile, yet it oozed with the asserting of his dominance. “You’re a daring girl.” He smiles at you, the contrast between his hungry gaze and his softly curved lips was confusing to say the least– but there was no doubt that he was not the kind to simply allow anything without permission.

The alpha’s sudden movement and grip on your hand made you squeal with fright—eyes widening and heart stopping its beat in your chest. Your mouth ran dry. Your terror coursed through you with the distinct tang of need. His dominance made you even more desperate. “I’m sorry,” you peeped quietly, itching to move your fingers away in case it angered him further but also needing to feel his tender skin underneath you once more. “I didn’t mean—..” you stuttered as you felt brave enough to peer up in his enchanting eyes. His smile was comforting but the hungry gaze in his stare had you trembling. Jimin cupped your cheek, hushing you with reassurance– although he seemed way too amused with the way you were practically shaking underneath his touch.

“Breathe. We’re all here to have a good time.” He smoothed the pad of his thumb across your lower lip, noting just how dry it had become. He decided to order another set of drinks, handing one to you that was the same pink shade as the one he got for himself. “Drink.” He didn’t ask, but he commanded you to accept his offer.

You were powerless to deny any demand the man made. Even if he had asked, you’d still be eating out of the palm of his hand like a terrified and starved pet. His thumb on your lips made you ache to open and accept his digit in your mouth, swirl your tongue around it teasingly. Your eyes sought his—hoping you could portray some of the arousal you felt over your innocent fright. You took a sip—a large one in hopes of lowering your frightened inhibitions to open up more to the beautiful man. “Mmm—,” you hummed as your eyes fluttered to close. “This is delicious.” It was sweet on your tongue, but not cloyingly. It warmed you and made your body loose.

“It’s my favorite.” Jimin agreed, already half way through his own. The entire time he kept his eyes trained on your lips, the darkening color on your cheeks from the heat that both alcohol and his proximity provided. When finished, he stretched his back with a light pop, the shirt he’s wearing underneath the jacket lifting just enough for the prominent V-line that snaked down his pants teasingly on display. His visuals were unmatched. He took off his jacket, leaving it unattended by the counter. No one would dare to touch it anyway, the leather oozing of his distinct scent. Only somebody with a death wish would. He combed his fingers through his hair, licking his lower lip clean form the residue sugar from this drink. His ears perked up when the lights dimmed further, and a new song came into play, booming through the speakers that caused a pleasant vibration to pulse through the building.

“I love this song.” Jimin reached for your arm to tug you out of the chair with him towards the crowded dance floor. As per usual, there was no question of whether you wanted to or not, but with a few drinks, and his intoxicating presence, it didn’t seem too bad. For Jimin, this was just part of his foreplay. He brought you into the crowd, tightly packed with all kinds of scents and musks. But the only one he could smell was yours, slowly morphing with his own as he placed his hands on your hips from behind, nose brushing against your neck as he inhaled. “Feel that? The beat?” He growled into your ear, swaying his hips along with the way he moved yours back and forth.

The music, once quiet and unassuming to you, now became loud and matched the beat of your heart. The alpha was dragging you towards the dance floor and in the midst of the hungry crowd, staring at you from where they rubbed up against each other. Just as you were trying to understand where to move, how to adjust your body to the dance, he pressed himself up behind you and gripped your hips. You could feel your pulse running through your veins and the way his touch electrified your skin. “Y-yeah,” you murmured as your hips began to move without thought. They easily swayed with the man’s guidance and you shivered as his nose pressed into your neck. It was like he couldn’t get enough of your scent, your being. The man’s hyper fixation on you had your core drenched—and you knew he could likely smell just how aroused for him you were. You let your eyes close and follow his guiding hold on your body, your ass pressing back against him to rub and grind along his length. It seemed the alphas drink was bringing you ever so gently out of your shell. “Mmm, I feel the beat right here.”

“Fuck, you smell good…” Jimin growled into your ear, his claw-like grip on your hips tightening to keep you in place as he pressed his hips right back against your ass, his cock prominent through the thin layer of his leather pants. It pulsed with every beat of his heart, it was driving him near insanity to practically taste your arousal on his tongue along with the overwhelming smell. “You’re dripping, aren’t you?” He huffed, tastefully biting your earlobe as one hand smoothed down your thigh to tug at the hem of your dress, unbothered to the fact that other hybrids were spying on them. He wanted them to see the way he got to have you, and they don’t. The way you were oozing with lust for the alpha, the pungent arousal of yours surely drove not just Jimin feral, but every single hybrid in the venue. And no one could say a fucking thing.

It was hard to hold back the peeps of surprise and arousal as you felt the alpha’s growing cock against you. Your body instinctively continued to rub and further agitate the hardening length to fully erect. When you felt his hands on you, your body reacted. You knew your cunt was oozing, likely soaking the satin panties underneath your tight skirt and soon to drip down your leg in a sign of utter submission and need to the alpha behind you. “Y-yes,” you whined. “I n-need you.” The admittance was shameless–the alcohol and lowered inhibitions making it easier for you to admit your desires to the man without regret. You could sense that he was showing you off and you complied, allowed the man to present you to everyone in the club who stared with bloodlust for you. “Please,” you gasped, not quite sure of what you were asking for other than him–more him. “Please, take me.”

Jimins wolfish grin grew against your skin before he swiftly grabbed you by your wrist to pull you with him, guiding the two of you towards privacy. Normally, he’d take his prey to the back, or even home… but there was an urgency within him that was too strong to ignore, there was no time– he needed to claim you now. So he pulled you into the bathroom close by, slamming your back against the wall with a thud the moment the door closed behind you. His heavy breaths were laced with small grunts as he crashed his pillowy lips against yours, hands greedily peeling the skirt of your dress up to expose your ass for him to harshly grab onto, squeezing the soft flesh between his ring clad fingers until it protruded between his digits, sharp nails digging into your delicate skin. “Fuck, you drive me crazy, little lamb.” Jimin hisses between hot kisses, the vibrating growl in his chest growing louder as he bites down on your lower lip to draw more innocent whines from your sweet throat. “Every single male in there wishes they could mate with you, shit… the male pheromones were off the roof, they’re all gonna jerk off to the memory of this–” one of his hands cupped your pussy through your soaked panties, dragging his palm to feel the damp fabric stain his skin. “Of how delicious your cunt smells… it’s like a fucking drug.”

Your eyes widened as the strong and sensual man dragged you from the dance floor to the bathroom. The same terror that once pulled through you now flooded every sense. Had you done something wrong? Was he going to harm you? Your worries were sucked up the second he pressed his lips to yours hungrily. Kissing him was like standing too close to a fire. He was hot, so hot, and before you knew it, you’d be engulfed in his hot, licking flames. His hands felt like palpable sin in your flesh and you needed more. “Please,” you whimpered as his hands cupped at your core. You knew you were a mess—dripping with shameless need for the alpha. The kisses turned deeper as you allowed his tongue entrance into your mouth and sought purchase in his own. Your hands stayed by your sides, itching to touch him but remembering his previous warning. “Please, let me touch you. Anywhere.” It felt like you were dying and the only cure was him—any bit of him on you and underneath your fingertips. “Ahh—,” you whined as his hand continued his assault on your cunt. “It’s a-all for you. I don’t want anyone else, only you.”

Jimin’s auburn gaze glowed as he pulled back from the kiss, his pointy canines poking out as he smiled. “You want to touch me?” He purred as he pressed your body harder back against the wall with his own, gliding the pads of his fingers up and down your clothed slit until he feels the swell of your clit through your panties, only to give it extra attention by circling his digits with just enough pressure. Not enough to satisfy, but not enough to not drive you crazy. “You don’t get to touch me until I say so… But don’t worry, good behavior will be rewarded.” Jimin added with his lighter tone of voice, leaning in to nudge your chin to the side with his nose– like a dog would. He softly grazes the skin of your neck with his nose, lips; a deep inhale through his nostrils triggered a vibrating rumble in his throat, and a prominent, heavy throb in his pants. “We’re not in a rush.” He whispered against your neck before placing open mouthed kisses down your skin until he reached the slope of your neck, feeling as his cock grew harder– the more aggressive his kisses became. From soft pecks, to messy sucking, surely painting your delicate skin with splashes of purple.

Feeling the man all over your body and being denied to touch was maddening, but deliciously so. His fingers dipped into your slit and teased so delicately that you thought you might cry if he didn’t give you something soon. Your moans turned into desperate whines and gasps as you allowed him to continue his thorough torture of your clit. Kissing him felt like sin, like heaven and hell. He was everything you wanted—everything you sought after when you stepped foot into the very club you now were being thoroughly debauched in. His cock felt heavy and thick against you and it made you whisper against his lips in arousal and desperation. He trailed down your body and you let out a shaky moan as you felt his sharp incisors suckle and nip at the delicate skin. “Use me,” you begged gently. “P-Please, make me yours.”

Your hips ground against his, rubbing against his hardened length as much as you could to alleviate the burn between your thighs. “Fuck, I want you so bad, please sir.”

“Such a good girl, asking so nicely.” Jimin’s low voice resembled a mix between his natural voice and a growl, the raspyness of it forcing a chill running down your spine, reminding you that he was indeed not human, but a hungry predator. Which is exactly what he was– well, it’s a part of him he only indulges in on nights like these, in a place like this. Who he was outside of these walls, nobody truly knew. His fingers curled around the fabrics of your panties to swiftly rip them off, carelessly discarding them to the dirty floor. Now exposed, your scent was stronger than ever. He shamelessly inhaled through his nose, eyes fluttering in pleasure, feeling the droplets of precum staining his swollen tip underneath the restraining pants.

“Still reconsidering whether coming here was a good or bad idea?” He asks through his breathy voice as he pulled back to look at your needy expression, all while his hands casually reach down to undo his pants, slowly peeling the leather down his hips. His cock sprung up proudly, drooling with arousal down his glistening skin, a content sigh pushing past his plushy lips. “Hm? You like it?” Jimin’s piercing gaze flickered between his cock and your face, grabbing the shaft with his hand. “Want a taste? All you have to do is drop to your knees on the filthy floor…”

Everything about the man radiated power. He mystified you. He even looked beautiful, gorgeous rather, under the harsh fluorescent lights. You were sure you would follow him off the edge of a cliff if he told you to. You didn’t know his name but you didn’t need to, he had you between his delicate fingers. Your breath hitched as he ripped your soaked panties off your body. The cool air of the bathroom was startling against your heated cunt. It made you gasp out loud. “I-I think it was a good idea,” you gulped. Your eyes were big, pleading and needy as you peered into his own. He had you completely under his spell.

Your mouth watered as the man pushed his skintight pants down and exposed his length to you. It was perfect. Thick and long and curved just right that made your core ache for him. You dropped to your knees without hesitation, ignoring the way the wet floor felt against your body. The floor was disgusting but nothing would stop you from pleasing the alpha. You shimmied your skirt up your body, allowing your bare ass and cunt to be exposed to the open air as you knelt before him.

“Please.” The word was becoming your prayer, repeated to the god above you to grant you your blessings. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue—an obedient little dog in heat. You wanted nothing more than to take him in your mouth without warning but you knew now to wait. You wanted to please the alpha so badly.

Jimin’s eyes darkened immensely at the gorgeous view beneath him, the fiery color of his irises barely visible for they were practically blackened out. If there was something the alpha adored, it was to look down on his prey, being begged to use them as he pleased. You were the perfect plaything for him. “So pretty.” He cooed, a small smile curling up on his upper lip to expose his pointy teeth. He gave his cock a few lazy strokes, his other hand gently combing through your hair before he abruptly curls his fingers to tug at it. He drew you in closer to his red, dripping length as he kept stroking it, eyes not even blinking once as he stared down at you. “Can’t wait to pump you full of my cum… Fuck, such a slut for my cock already.” His words grew filthier the more aroused he became. His patience ran low, so he guided the tip of his drooling cock to your lips, tugging your hair to draw you even closer to take his length down your throat. “Only good girls can take it all. You’re a good girl, aren’t you? Come on…”

The intensity of the alphas gaze made you shiver on the sodden ground and you could tell your cunt was dripping, likely even dripping down onto the very same floor. The bite of pain in your hair stung as he gripped you, but it sizzled and burned until it added to the overall sensation and made your nipples harden in delight. You breathed in deep, steeling yourself as his length came closer. His salacious words made you tremble and ooze with excitement. You wanted nothing more than to be a vessel, a hole for him to wrench pleasure from. His length was warm and dripping with precum. It felt so thick and heavy on your tongue as he continued to push it in. You audibly moaned as you felt it push past your uvula. He was so thick and tasted like salt and sweetness. You let your lips close and wrap around him as you took him to the hilt. You flicked your eyes up to him, shining with tears of strain from the thickness choking your throat. You wanted to prove how good you were, how well you could take him.

After a moment of holding his length as deep as it could go, you pulled back slightly to begin a bobbing motion as you sucked greedily on his cock. Saliva pooled around your lips as you drew him in and out, and the sounds you made sucking could be heard over the thumping of the bar music. You wanted to prove yourself to the alpha, show him you could be more than just a one time type of girl. You wanted him to claim you forever.

“Oh, fuck yes…” Jimin’s pillowy lips parted in initial surprise, but quickly he bit back his low groan as it rumbled in his chest. He knew you were needy, but he didn’t expect you to be so greedy to suck him off. And being so good at it on top of being eager to please– it was oddly new. Normally, every past experience of his was not like this, but more like him doing every piece of the work for a ragdoll, so watching you work his cock so willingly, attentive to his own reactions and pleasure in a different way…. It hit something in him that only riled him up further than anybody had ever done previously.

“Deeper. Gag on it, make it messy.” His chest heaved up and down heavily, deep huffs through his nose displaying just how good he feels in between the low moans, no shame in showcasing how good it feels. He presses his back against the wall, craning his neck to get a good look of the way your lips stretched around his thick shaft. “I can hear your cunt dripping… Can scent it, god, it smells divine. Your insides must be aching for me.” He murmurs as he drives his hips forward a bit rougher to meet your movements, eager to feel your throat constrict around him when he hits too far down your throat. “Coat your fingers in your juices, little lamb. Show me.”

The praise made you preen, and even more desperate to prove your worth to the man. His cock was so big inside your mouth it was hard to keep yourself from gagging, but you worked against it and continued to suck and slurp down his length. You obeyed every order, and slicked him up until your mouth was squelching with saliva around him and it dripped from your face like a tap. You whined around his length as you obeyed, keeping up a pace as you buried a hand down to your exposed core. You nearly gasped at the feeling. You were absolutely soaked and dripping with anticipation. Your fingers swirled in the wetness and coated you easily. You desperately wanted to touch your clit and play with yourself to bring you to your own end but you knew now it was better to wait for his instruction.

While maintaining your eager pace and swirling tongue, you lifted your dripping fingers from your cunt and presented them to the man above you, eyes still trained on his own in utter submission.

Jimin’s eyes quivered at the sight, pupils shrinking as he zeroes in on the glossy sheen on your fingers. His cock twitched in your mouth once, twice before he decided that he’d been patient enough… He could not wait any longer to claim you as his own. He pushed his palm against your forehead until his length was ripped from your throat, drool and precum dribbling down your chin. A long string of the juices seeped down his cock, another piece of it connected to your lips. It was an absolute mess, just the way he liked it.

“Up.” He growled, but before you were even able to obey his orders on your own, he pulled you up by your wrist, bringing the very coated fingers of yours into his mouth. All while maintaining eye contact, his swollen, pink lips eagerly sucked your arousal clean from your digits, swirling his skillful, rough tongue. Around, in between… He refused to let a single drop go to waste. “Mm..” he hummed when he let go of your fingers with a pop of his lips, the small smirk in the corners of his mouth widening. A light thudding sound caught your attention from behind him, his fluffy, white tail wagging in excitement, hitting the wall with every whip. “It’s a bit hot… Take my jacket off.” He suddenly asks, but his sweet tone was deceptive with the underlying command luring in his predatory gaze. He turns around, lowering his shoulders to allow you to easily slide the leather off, his tail playfully brushing against your thighs.

You nearly whined as Jimin forced you away from his cock—not wanting to remove yourself from the thick length that fit so perfectly in your drooling mouth. But the whine is cut short by his demand to stand and as he sucks your fingers into his mouth you nearly forget everything else around you. “A-ah, fuck,” you breathed—pupils dilating at the sight of the gorgeous man sucking your juices off your delicate fingers. Your cunt pulsated around nothing, so desperate for his thick cock now that the arousal has dripped down the insides of your thighs. “Yes sir,” you whispered as your fingers found the edges of his jacket and pulled it off his body. His tail makes your eyes widen as the soft fur brushes against your legs. You’ve never been with a hybrid before, never been with an alpha hybrid at that, and you’re eager to learn just how he differs in other ways. You couldn’t help but marvel at the muscles on the lithe man. He’s thin, but built and you found you’re desperate to lick up the defined lines of his abs. “You’re so p-pretty,” you whispered without knowing it escaped you, marveling at the gorgeous man.

Jimin’s tail trembled with more excitement at the praise, oddly enough. He’s been called many things. Sexy, scary, hot, alluring… Pretty? He liked it.

“Yeah?” he breathes out a small chuckle through his nose, pressing his lips together in thought. He shook his head to get rid of his mind wandering too far, instead back to indulging in the moment– focused on the aching throb between his legs. Jimin pulls his shirt over his head to expose his full torso, the tattoo on his ribs on clear display along with the faded, scattered scars adorning his skin in the form of striped, claw like patterns. Now with his body freed from the cage that is fabrics, he didn’t waste another second to grab you by the hips, turn you around to face away from him, and immediately push you forward to force you to use the sink as leverage. The large, dirty mirror on the wall stared back at you, clear enough for you to see the two of you in this sinful moment.

“You’re pretty too. A pretty slut, about to get her pretty little cunt stretched so bad you’ll be ruined for any other male.” Jimin’s canine adorned smile grew as he stared you down through the reflection in the mirror, grasp on your hips moving to the flesh of your ass. His foot kicks your feet apart, forcing you to stand wider and spread for him. A quick glance down and he already sees just how wet and dripping your cunt was. He pushed the head of his cock against your slit, coating it with your juices before gently rocking forward, not going inside, instead just rubbing between your swollen lips.

“So pretty,” you murmured as your eyes washed over him. Your mouth ran dry as he pulled his shirt off and exposed himself to the hard light of the bathroom. He looked like sin incarnate and your body ached to touch. Your fingertips lightly trailed the skin of his abs, grazing over the tattoo with the faintest touch. The cold sink countertop felt like ice against your chest, still heaving with need as the man prepped your body for his entrance. “Please ruin me, alpha,” you begged, peering into his own gaze through the reflection of the mirror. Your knees and legs trembled as he teased his cock against your desperate slit. “Mark me as yours, please. I only want you.” His cock felt so thick even at the entrance, prodding and poking through your sodden folds. A moan wrenched through your lips as it pushed against your clit and slicked with your own arousal.

“Fuck me, please!” The teasing was near torture and you were desperate, pushing your hips back lightly to encourage the man to slip in and ruin you completely.

With lips closed, he smiled, eyebrows raising your desperation. It was almost mocking, yet pleased with just how desperate you were for him. Your initial fear seemed replaced with utter submission and desire to be his. “We’ve only been in here for minutes and you’re already pathetically wet.” As he spoke, his hips snapped forward to grant your one and only wish, filling your soppy hole with his fleshy, rigid cock. He had no desire to ease you into the stretch from his generous girth, immediately pulling back until merely the tip was engulfed by your cunt before drilling back into you with another squelching thrust. “Tight… no other cock must have ever stretched you this well, huh? Fuck..” He bites down his abused lower lip, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he had to gather himself. The scent you emitted was incredibly strong, intoxicating to his mind. It was like a high he’s never experienced before, and he knew he was already a lost cause to the addiction that is you.

The feeling of the alpha’s cock filling you completely was unparalleled. You’d never felt something within you so deep, never been stretched so far past your breaking point—and unable to care about the tearing pain. The pleasure outweighed the sizzling burn of pain. He was merciless and your whimpering moans echoed around the damp bathroom. “I—ohhhh fuck,” you gasped as he pushed into you yet again, spearing you nearly in half. It was as if you could feel him deep in your stomach, and you never wanted him to leave your soaked cunt. He was claiming his territory with each torturous thrust inside you that made your throat burn for more. “Only you,” you whimpered as his thrusts became merciless and powerful. “All y-yours now. Oh, god, so good,” you praised. You learned the beautiful man thrived on praise as much as you did on the dominant commands. Your hips moved in time with his powerful purses and the sound of skin slapping on skin filled the small room. “Oh my god, sir,” you cried as fat tears of pleasure rolled down your cheeks. “You make me feel so good. I only want your c-cock inside me forever.” You knew now you would be hopelessly tied to the man, and you desperately ached for him to claim you as his own. “P-please, mark me as yours, alpha.”

The low, vibrating growl that rumbled throughout Jimin’s body would have anybody’s fight or flight instincts kicking in– the latter the most logical response from anyone within their right mind. His powerful thrusts were beyond that of what a human was capable of, the skin on your ass bruising with every loud, harsh collision of your bodies. “Only me?” he snarled through a wolfish grin, lips parting in a moan when your cunt clenched around his length. His sharp, claw like nails drew blood as they dug deep into the fleshy part of your waistline, moving your body like a ragdoll to meet his thrusts, your own attempts at doing so barely noticeable. “You want to be my little cockwhore?” Jimin leaned forward, hovering above you as he pressed his chest against your back, the grip on your waist moving to wrap around your torso with one arm, the other clawing at your jaw, forcing you to stare into the reflection in front of you. He keeps you tightly in place, feeling the way your body jiggles and jolts while he fucked into you with insatiable greed. “The alpha’s bitch?” His fiery eyes meet yours through the reflection, his toothy smile growing. He inches closer to drag his flattened tongue up your cheek, a coating of messy saliva dripping down your sweaty skin. Claiming you in every sense of the word.

The man claimed you roughly, making your throat rip with a desperate and wanton moan. His cock was pushing into your cunt deeper than anyone’s ever gone before, harder and with purpose. It was as if the man wanted to fuse your bodies together, become one. You certainly wanted it. His hands on your skin felt hot, feverish. You wanted him to touch you everywhere, at any time he could. You were hopeless addicted now. “Please,” you cried as the tears of pleasure poured from your face. “Claim this cunt as yours. I’m only yours!” You could feel your bliss piquing, building up to the impossible precipice. You whined as you watched your reflection. Your makeup smeared down your face with your sweat and tears. His fingers held your jaw tightly and your cunt pulsed around his heavy cock at the sight. You could see his heavy and thick length spearing into you and retracting smeared in your juices. Something inside you tells you it’s what you want to see for the rest of your life—only his cock ruining you and coaxing torrential orgasms out of you. “Yes! Breed me like the bitch in heat I am!” You cried out loud, no longer caring about your volume. Everyone in the bar could hear your desperate screams for the alpha and it only made you wetter, more aching for the man. “Fill me up with your seed, alpha! I need it, please! Cum inside me!”

The perked wolf ears adorning Jimin’s head flickered with his excitement, pointed forward to make sure he soaks up every little sound you make for him. You were so loud, shamelessly letting every hybrid in the building know just how good the alpha makes you feel. ‘Breed me.’ The words stuck to him, replaying in his mind whilst stuffing you with his cock over and over, the mix of your arousal and his precum dripping down into a puddle at the filthy bathroom floor. He wrapped his arms around your torso, holding you close as his thrusts changed pace. Still filled with greed and force, but no longer pulling back as much, instead keeping his cock lodged deep inside of you whilst prodding as deep inside of you as he possibly can. Jimin’s cock was on the verge of bursting inside of you, and instinctively he possessively sunk his teeth into the tender skin of your shoulder, shutting his eyes harshly. But just as quickly, his eyes opened back up, staring with wide eyes into the mirror when something he did not expect happened. He knew this was it, there was no going back. With one last, harsh thrust, he stilled his movements abruptly, heavy breathing down your neck as he kept you tightly in place– in case you would panic. “Gonna fill you up with my cum.. Put my little pups inside of you- fuck…” He growled into your skin, gnashing his teeth together. His cock grew inside of you, and he was physically unable to remove himself.

Whether it was intentional or not.. His body had chosen to breed you– to mate with you. “Mine.” He whined, and with that, his cock began to desperately pulsate inside of you as he disposed of his warm cum in heavy, pattern-like gushes. Like a volcano erupting, it didn’t stop, but he kept cumming, holding his hands on your stomach as he felt it start to lightly bulge from the amounts he was able to offer. “Gah…. shit… Look at you.” He could barely hold his voice stable, legs quivering, body twitching with every throb of his rigid length, still snugly wrapped by your cum-stuffed flesh.

Nothing in the world, in your life, has ever felt better than the way the alpha felt as he fucked into you. You barely knew the man, and yet you wanted nothing more than to give yourself over to him for as long as he wanted. You found yourself wanting to surrender your life to him. You felt safe in the security of his arms. As if you were always meant to find him, to be here with him. It didn’t matter that he had you in a damp bathroom, you would have him anyway and place. Your orgasm quickly approached, winding up and throttling you over the edge as your cunt convulsed around him. Your channels tightened and milked him, and you sobbed at the wave of pleasure creating over you.

“Yours,” you whined as your bodies stilled. His cock enlarged inside you, making your eyes widen and whimper as your hands clutched at his arms wrapped around you. You needed to touch him, stabilize yourself as your core widens to accept him and your tummy bulges from the amount of cum he pulses into you. It’s hot, and warm and you can feel it coating your walls thick. Your breathing was rapid, coming down from your high and the minor fright from having his cock widen and remain locked within you as he came.

“So big,” you whispered as a tear rolled down your cheek. “H-hurts… But I can take it. I’ll take it for you.” Your head lolls back and rests on his shoulder, allowing your body to relax around the feeling of his swollen knot. “Anything for you,” you murmured, as if you were in a daze. Your hands held on to his slender arms for support and reassurance, hoping desperately you pleased the alpha enough to keep you forever. “D-did I do okay?” You asked once, quiet as a mouse. Your confidence was quickly diminishing now that your orgasm subsided and your anxieties returned.

Jimin takes a long moment to catch his breath and collect himself, still holding you in his arms as if he never wanted to let you go in the first place. And truthfully, he doesn’t want to. Doesn’t have to…

“You did so well, little lamb.” He purrs as he places a, surprisingly, gentle kiss with his pillowy lips against your clammy temple. His hands roam down to smooth his palms over the swell of your stomach, reassuring you that this indeed did please him to the max.

After another few minutes, his length finally went back to its original size, immediately feeling his cum seep out your hole. He pulls out, and the flood of his cum splattered against the floor. But it didn’t seem to faze him at all, instead his attention was set on you, feeling your stomach deflate with each passing second. He turned you around to face him, brushing the damp strand of hair away from your eyes as his features seemed to display nothing but gentle affection, his eyes almost disappearing into thin slits as he smiled. His tail wagged happily, and he decided to bring you in for a chaste kiss on the lips.

“My mate.” he breathes out as if it was a relief to finally have you. And it was, he’d been looking for somebody that would be his true mate for life, but believed he would simply be a lone wolf for eternity. But then you came along, as if destiny had thrown you (or rather, your friend threw you) into this place at this time, like a piece of meat for the alpha to claim.

© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[inkykeiji]

you be the match, i will be your fuse

fluffy anon said: dabi coming home after an absolutely horrid day at work and just needing to be absolutely BABIED by reader (i’m talking cuddling in bed, taking a bath with him and washing his hair then getting out just rubbing his back as he sleeps with his head on your chest)

genre: angst + fluff, laced with just a hint of smut (like two sentences)

notes: aaaah happy birthday dabi!!! this has absolutely nothing to do with your birthday but eeee ily | title cred: sure thing by miguel

warnings: 18+, implied/mentioned death of a child, one instance of implied past physical abuse, self-destructive behaviour + coping mechanisms, co-dependent toxic relationship

words: 3.5k

It’s thundering the day it happens, ferocious growls that rumble through your apartment—a tiny, quaint space you share with Dabi, full of faulty appliances and cracked linoleum—rolling, fluffy grey clouds blanketing the entire sky, swollen with restrained rain droplets as a storm brews within them. Little fingers idly toy with the yellowed pages of your worn pulp fiction novel, flipping through them and bending corners as your eyes search the angry sky, chewing on your cheek.

Dabi should’ve been home by now. It’s not like him to be late without calling, without letting his babygirl know what’s going on—he knows the way you worry, the way you overthink yourself into a frenzy, the way you’re so clingy and needy, teases you about it incessantly and tells you he thinks it’s cute—and a deep sense of dread takes root in the pit of your stomach, dark and bitter and unfurling, quickly spreading throughout the cavity of your chest.

His phone must be off—no, it’s never off, he doesn’t do that anymore, not since you stumbled into his life—his phone must be dead, your repeated calls growing increasingly frequent and urgent every time you’re greeted with the drone of his automatic voicemail.

Something’s wrong, horribly so.

It’s evident the moment he arrives home, scratched brass doorknob slamming against the wall, deepening the crater its left from past incidents of a similar manner.

It infects the air around him, hanging heavy and thick, its dense presence nearly suffocating. His shoulders slump under the pressure, the weight of whatever he’s carrying practically crushing, as he drags his crimson splattered boots through the front door, soles scraping against the cheap hardwood, bringing the putrid scent of charred flesh with him—his or someone else’s, you don’t know.

You swear you can almost see it, this—this thing, this aura, enveloping him in its haughty embrace as his chest heaves under a deep, controlled breath, pausing in the foyer as the door shuts behind him.

Bare feet pad against the floor, your legs moving without your explicit permission, drawn towards him in an almost instinctual manner, the desire to care for, to comfort, burning as it bubbles up in your chest, mixing with that intense sense of trepidation and invading your veins.

He permits you to wrap your arms around his torso as you nuzzle against him, body going rigid for a moment, still and stiff as marble, before he exhales again, melting into your embrace.

Several questions race through your mind at such a speed that they crash and clash together, becoming nothing more than incoherent jumbled lettering, tiny fingers curling in the fabric of his clothing as you try to pull him closer, nonsensical babbling spilling from your lips. A vacant ghost of a chuckle leaves his lips, nothing more than a simple huff of breath, and he squeezes you closer.

“Bad day?” the words are mumbled against his dirty t-shirt, what was once a pristine white now tarnished with ash and blood. You don’t get a response—you don’t expect one.

He doesn’t talk much, not on days like this.

He doesn’t need to.

Bad days—really bad, terrible, awful days such as this one—are surprisingly rare with Dabi. Sure, he’s had the typical ‘bad’ day before, where someone pisses him off, or he gets into a fight with his superior, but those bad days usually require railing you into your creaky, springy king-sized mattress until you’ve forgotten everything but his name and he’s fucked all of the anger and hatred out of his body.

They are not like this one. No, on days such as this, on days where he’s killed someone he deems to be innocent, someone who—like him—is a victim of heroism, he’s quiet, distant, unpredictable, bordering on unhinged, and you’ve learned to tread with extreme discretion.

But you don’t push, either, resolving to communicate through gentle touches, soft fingertips that run along his tense, broad shoulders and press into the hard coiled muscles, tender fingers that thread through inky tufts of hair, sapphire eyes closing as he hums and leans into the motion like a cat.

It’s only for a second, though, just a moment of weakness before he’s breaking out of your embrace, pushing past you and clearing his throat, glass door to the balcony sliding shut a moment later. 

You don’t follow. You know better than that now, a phantom sting in your cheek serving as a reminder, the resounding sharp sound of glass shattering as it’s hurled at the floor slicing through your mind with such viciousness it makes you wince. 

Instead, you sit. And you wait. Like you’re supposed to, like a good little girl, a book clutched between your quivering hands, unblinking eyes staring at the words on the page, nothing but incomprehensible symbols—lines and lines of black ink in meaningless shapes—as scorching sapphire loops through your mind.

Be a good girl, give him space, let him come to you. Be a good girl, give him space, let him come to you. Be a good girl. Give him space. Let him come to you.

It’s standard procedure, really.

And eventually, he does, comes back inside with an empty bottle of whiskey clutched in a hand, along with a crumpled package of cigarettes. You don’t know how long it’s been, muscles sore and joints aching from sitting in the same position for so long, eyes dry from staring at the same page, barely moving, barely breathing. His hand is bleeding, knuckles bruised and gleaming with sticky scarlet that’s still fresh and flowing, but it could be worse. It has been worse.

The harsh clink of the bottle against the kitchen counter makes you flinch, and he sighs, heavy and full of derision, eyes flicking up to glare at your side profile.

“I can hear you thinking,”

“You’re filthy, baby,” the words tumble past your lips, uncontrollable, involuntary, almost reflexive in your response, eyes snapping to his face and voice whiny, voice pleading. “Take a bath with me,”

And you can see it—can see it in the dark cobalt of his irises, what he needs, the very thing he’s fighting himself on, the very thing he’s fighting so hard against. Always so stubborn, so reluctant, so cautious.

Because, fuck, he used to be able to resist it, this pathetic ache for comfort—something that’s only managed to grow in your presence, that’s shifted and morphed from a dull smoldering to a raging fire, an insatiable longing for your fingers in his hair and your breath on his skin and your voice against his ear—a skill he’d been constructing, developing, perfecting, since he was thirteen years old. A skill you succeeded in shattering in the matter of a few measly months.

Because you—you’re different. And he hates it sometimes, he swears to the good Lord he does, but hating it doesn’t make it any less true. You break him down, you make him weak, you make him want, and the longer he spends around you, the more he finds that he doesn’t fucking care. And that’s irritating, that’s exciting, that’s terrifying, that’s new. 

Fury blisters his chest, his lungs, his throat as he holds your stare, jaw clenching twice. But you don’t falter, not like the rest of them, not like anyone else—everyone else. You never falter, always so eager to see the good in him, a snort leaving his nose at the thought. The good in him. Is there any good left in him? Was there ever any good in him in the first place? Are you the good in him, now? Does he care?

And he’s not sure he’ll ever understand it, but he’s beginning to realize that, maybe, he doesn’t have to. 

Maybe, it doesn’t matter. Maybe, it’s okay, if you love him, if he loves you.

Maybe.

It’s too much, and he can feel frustration stinging his eyes, long delicate eyelashes fluttering as he quickly blinks it away. Spears, sharp and cold, splinter your chest at the sight, but you know if you begin crying too, you’ll lose him. You know that if you begin showing what he considers weakness, he’ll pull away, even though this is what he so clearly needs most. 

So you steel yourself, swallowing hard against the pain collecting in your throat, will the tears away and force your body to stay calm, approaching him slowly as if he’s some sort of feral animal prone to lashing out. 

Apprehension is clear in his azure eyes, head tilting a little as they narrow, regarding you with skepticism, with suspicion. 

It’s bold, and dangerous, and—as far as Dabi’s concerned—fucking stupid, but you don’t care, determined to prove to him that you aren’t going anywhere regardless of how many tantrums he throws, no matter how many times he hurts you in his anguish. It’s almost desperate, really, this sheer need to prove to him that you aren’t scared of him, that irrespective of how soft he seems to think you are, you are strong, even if it’s in ways he could never understand, that you can be strong for him, when he needs it, that he can borrow some of your strength, if he needs to.

And that—that’s why he loves you. It hits him hard, as this realization always does, kicks him in the chest and knocks the breath out of him every time, and he’s not sure he’ll ever get used to it.

A tiny hand hangs in the air between the two of you, Dabi regarding the offer with a wary hesitance. Wiggling fingers attempt to entice him, earning a tiny smirk—a massive victory—as sapphire flits up to gaze at you through thick lashes, an eyebrow raised.

You match his expression, quirking an eyebrow of your own and nodding at your hand, speaking a moment later.

“Let me in, baby,” the words are barely above a whisper, but they’re so raw, filled with so much unadulterated love it hurts, pure and real and everything he’s never had before. “Let me help,”

And, God, it’s fucking overwhelming, how badly he wishes to give in to this unfamiliar compassion, how desperately he desires your affection, despite the malicious voice echoing off the walls of his skull, berating him for being so pathetic, so weak, so vulnerable.

But the urge to accept, to seek out consolation in you, wins, just as it always does, that nasty voice reverberating in his mind silenced the very instant his skin touches yours.

You let him make the last move, allow him to make that final decision entirely on his own accord, to grasp your hand in his, warm and rough, and pull you towards him, crushing you against his chest as he buries his face in your hair, eyes squeezed shut against that annoying burn of tears, chest stuttered with a hitched breath, air that gets caught in his throat as he chokes on the words he wants to say.

But he doesn’t need to say them. You already know.

“Come,” you murmur to him, fingers threading through the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck. “Let’s take a bath,”

     ✰          ✰          ✰

The bathwater stings your skin, just a hint too hot to be comfortable, but you say nothing as you settle onto his lap in the cramped little tub, encompassed by frothy bubbles, dainty scent of orange citrus tickling your nose.

Heated fingertips press into your hips as he finds comfort the only way he knows how to, in your precious little whimpers and broken moans of his name as he bounces you on his cock, so vigorously you’re positive you can feel him in your tummy, the pads of his fingers searing his prints into your skin.

It’s heady, it’s intoxicating, it’s addicting, heightened emotions both pleasant and unpleasant swirling together with the symphony of your cries and his grunts as the water you’re submerged in begins to bubble and boil, to crack and pop, sudsy liquid sloshing over the side of the tiny tub as he forces you to ride him, faster and faster and faster until you’re whining and convulsing around him, and he’s filling you with thick cum, cock throbbing aggressively as he spurts load after load into you.

After, as he leans back against the cold tile, residual droplets sizzling into steam as his heated skin touches them. Gentle fingers card between his hair, water cascading through onyx strands as it pours over his head from a worn plastic cup—a faded Darth Vader staring back at you as you rhythmically repeat your actions until the tresses stick to his forehead and cheeks, drenched and shining in the low light of the washroom.

Heavy lids obscure the most brilliant sapphire from you as shampoo is massaged into his scalp, slow and unhurried and thorough, every stroke, every comb through inky clumps easing the turmoil in his mind bit by bit, calming the storm that’s been raging inside of him for hours now. Deep hums rumble in his chest as your fingers continue their ministrations, your eyes trained on your motions. And you can feel it, the tension dissipating from his body with each circle of foam rubbed into his soft hair, shoulders finally beginning to relax as he subconsciously nuzzles into your touch, following it, longing for it, aching for more.

He shifts then, after you’ve rinsed the soap from his hair, manhandling you into a position between his thighs, bare chest pressed tightly against your back. You work hard to keep your body from tensing, forcing your breathing to stay even, to stay calm as you brace yourself for what’s coming next.

“He was eleven,” he says after several long moments of silence, voice low and trembling, hoarse and heavy with remorse. “This time.”

This time. That’s the third innocent civilian—innocent by his standards, at least—this month.

That’s the first time it’s ever been a child.

You don’t turn around to look at him, not yet—he isn’t finished—simply opting to lace your fingers through his and bring your joined hands to your lips, kissing each wounded knuckle, crude staples catching in the dim warm light of the tiny bathroom. 

You want to tell him it wasn’t his fault, even though it was. You want to tell him anything that’ll make him feel better, that’ll absolve the guilt so evidently gnawing away at his insides, even though you know there’s nothing you can say.

“What are—I don’t even—” his voice breaks and you feel his chest stutter against your back, feel him exhale harshly, breath cool on your damp shoulder, feel him swallow thickly as he tries again. Because as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, as much as he would never admit it, you know he needs release this from the confines of his mind—you know you’re the only person who can offer him such an outlet. “Why the fuck were there kids there in the first place? Huh? They shouldn’t—They shouldn’t have been there,”

Orphans are everywhere in this city, you murmur, lips moving against his rough skin. He knows. Orphans of heroes. He knows.

“I’m gonna kill Shigaraki, I swear to Christ. Sending us to a—a fucking place infested with fucking ch-children,” his fingers curl around yours, hand beginning to shake as it clutches you like a lifeline, like that guilt will devour him from the inside out, like he’ll disintegrate into nothingness, if he doesn’t. “I bet you he fucking knew—nah, I-I’m positive he did. Asshole only cares about himself, though. Doesn’t matter that—that the cause we’re supposed to be fighting for affects these stupid kids,”

You’re right, love.

The words leave your lips in a gentle breath, leaning your head back against his collarbone and staring up at him. Cobalt eyes stay trained on the cracked tile wall, jaw methodically clenching as his molars grind together, an attempt to quell the trembling of his chin, exhaling hard harsh breaths through flared nostrils.

“Whatever,” he huffs, voice still wavering and not nearly as self-assured as he wishes. “Th-That brat shouldn’t have been there in the first place,”

He shouldn’t have, you agree, finally squirming in his grasp, turning to face him, to straddle his hips again in the tight space of the tub. And he welcomes your affections readily this time, arms encircling your waist as he holds you tightly to him, blunt nails digging purple-tinged crescents into your flesh as he shoves his face against your neck, finally allowing those emotions he’s been fighting to leak from his eyes and absorb into your skin.

Little palms rub soothing circles into his back as he shudders against you, allowing him to empty his soul onto you as soft lips press chaste kisses to his damp hair, waiting until there’s nothing left, until his eyes are drained, azure glassy and bloodshot, nose twitching and red.

And after he’s done, when he finally pulls back, scrubbing aggressively at his nose as tiny sniffles hitch in his chest, gentle fingers begin to lather soap into his skin, washing away the dirt and grime and blood from the day. Fingertips carefully trace along the metal sutures decorating his body with immeasurable adoration, you whispering all of the things he so desperately needs to hear that he’d never dare to ask for, complimented by the tender touches that cleanse his soul with their unconditional love.

He’s bigger than you are, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to wrap him in a fluffy white towel, using another in an attempt to dry his hair as your hands move in shaggy motions, heart soaring in your chest when you pull a soft laugh from his lips, wet and wobbly and croaky, but a laugh nonetheless.

A mutual silence, gentle and comforting and stuffed full of an immense love, a special kind of love, a love words do not exist to explain, swathes your bodies as he allows you to dress him, pulling a ratty old band tee over his head and a pair of plaid PJ pants up his legs.

“You always look so cute in my clothes,” he rasps from his spot perched on the edge of the bed, glowing crystal eyes watching as you pull one of his t-shirts over your naked body.

A genuine bubble of laughter erupts from your throat as you climb into bed with him, immediately allowing him to latch onto you, to pull you towards him, to hold you close like his own personal plushie.

“Sleep,” you murmur as the two of you settle into a comfortable position, limbs tangled together, his head resting on your chest, fingers threading through his hair and then tracing down his neck, his back. “And then I’ll make you ramen,”

“The spicy kind?”

“Of course,”

I love you.

“Extra spicy?”

Laughing again, you feel his lips curve into a smile against your skin, grip around your torso tightening. “Extra spicy. Now, rest,”

More than anything else.

“With the little fish cakes?”

“Your favourite little fish cakes,”

More than words could ever tell you.

“And the pork belly?”

“And the pork belly,” you feel his chest rise with an inhale, hastily adding, “And those little cream puffs you love so much, from that dingy convenience store downstairs, for dessert. Now sleep, baby,”

He laughs, even though his vision is blurring, even though it comes out more strangled than anything else, because he doesn’t want to cry again, because his chest stings and aches and swells and warms, full of inexplicable emotions, feels like it’s going to fucking burst as it chokes and reinvigorates him all at once, and—God, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

Because even though he’s terrified beyond belief, he’s willing to try—just for you, only for you—as he continually realizes with each passing day that he isn’t sure what the fuck he’d do without you, now. Because you’re too entangled up in his life, too deeply embedded in his very soul, for him to ever remove you, now. Because as petrifying and unfamiliar as it is, he doesn’t want to, now.

Because even though he’s broken, irrevocably so, and you can’t fix him, won’t fix him, you’ll still stay, to hold those pieces so gently, so tenderly in your hands, you’ll still protect those fragments and keep them from shattering further, you’ll still give them the affection and devotion they need, the affection and devotion they deserve. Because you love every part of him, even the bad ones, even the shards with jagged edges that cut into the soft flesh of your palms every time you caress them.

Because you accept him wholeheartedly, flaws and all, and that’s—he’s never experienced anything like that before, this unlimited, unreserved, unquestioning love. And although he doesn’t know how to say this, isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to find the right words to communicate it, he’s beginning to learn that unfamiliar doesn’t always mean bad; that sometimes, it’s okay—it’s good—to be vulnerable. He’s beginning to learn that with you, in the warmth of your shitty little apartment, with the stove that only has two functioning burners and the fridge that’s perpetually too cold, he can be, without judgement, without fear, without trepidation.

Because you are his only salvation, and he wouldn’t trade this for the goddamn world.

[yourlocalshittywriter]

The Duty of a Hero

Author’s Note: Howdy folks! I’m here with my first proper fic and I really hope that y’all like it! This will be exploring what could’ve happened if the Dabi that Aizawa fought wasn’t one of Twice’s clones. Since this is a fight, I advise the folks that are sensitive to things like that to click off and read another fic. Also, since this story does change scenery and moods a bit, I included some songs that change along with the the stories mood! This is mainly just because I like showing off my music taste and shit. Here’s Part 2!

Songs to Go Along: The Fighter by In This Moment, Acid Bubble by Alice In Chains, The Great Gig In The Sky by Pink Floyd

I felt extremely at peace for once in life. I felt the normal crackling of my joints silence into a warm nothingness. My aching muscles that had been torn to shreds time and time again, the ones that had been strained and stretched beyond the limits of the human body seemed to reform perfectly as they melted into the rest of my numb form. My skin, a forest of calluses, scars, stitches, and open wounds felt as if it was no longer there. I was no longer confined to the space of my body, and instead moved around as freely as water or air. I was a sort of goo, unmoving, stationary, simple, yet free. 

With a quirk as self-destructive as mine, becoming a hero was a sort of death wish. My quirk was known as “pain transfer.” Anytime I made eye contact with a person, I could activate my quirk and subject myself to pain only to have them suffer the pain of the injury for as long as I was looking at them. I could also transfer existing pain to my target. Although I may have had a wicked high pain tolerance and quick recovery period, my humanity was bound to catch up to me eventually. Quirks like mine, “villainous quirks” according to most people, should be kept hidden and the people born with them should go on to live normal lives as ordinary civilians. My parents were among these people. When I told them that I was enrolling in the hero course at UA, I was given the choice to either become a hero and be disowned, or ditch my pipe dream and stay their beloved child. I packed my things that night.

It was a miracle that I passed the entrance exam the next day. I was running on little sleep, the loss of my financial support, and the trauma that came with the realization that your parents didn’t love you anymore because you didn’t live in a way that they approved of. I had trained since my will to become a hero first arrived, a sort of passionate drive that crashed into my life so unexpectedly that the impact nearly gave me whiplash. 

I supposed that that inferno of, what? Spite? No, not spite, something deeper, hotter, and more righteous than spite. Let’s say ardor. This ardor was what drove me to take out as many robots as I could, despite the fact that my quirk was utterly useless in this situation. I took out a decent amount of robots, at least, decent enough to get into the hero course. A lady by the name of Recovery Girl healed me before I went on my way. I thought that I just had a few scrapes and bruises, but apparently I had a broken wrist. Surprisingly, I wasn’t the worst-off there, some poor kid broke both of his arms and one of his legs. 

The time between this moment and when I got into UA seems to have flown by. I came into UA, a semi-blank canvas, and now here I was, bleeding out on the campsite that I planned to spend my summer at with my classmates. Dying feels far less painful than one would assume; you really don’t even realize that you’re dying at first. It’s sort of like that feeling you get after eating a warm meal after starving for so long, sickening at first, but comforting after you grow used to it. It’s like taking a hot bath after spending a day in the snow; it burns at first, but the burning subsides into a comforting numbness. Your senses slowly dull into nothingness but your brain is left to conjure whatever image it pleases. I could have seen dead relatives, met idols, or even pictured an alternate life where my parents still loved me, but I didn’t.

I didn’t want it. Fame, fortune, admiration, acceptance, rebirth, none of it. I wanted none of it. I wanted to live. I wanted to do what I swore to do as soon as I got into UA. I wanted what I signed up for when I packed my bags and left my parents’ house at age fourteen. I wanted what I fought tooth and nail for. I wanted my ambitions and goals fulfilled.

Of course I wanted what I had worked for, that was beyond obvious, however, I also wanted the small things in life. I wanted my afternoon tea with Yaoyorozu, Sato, and Todoroki. I wanted my fashion shows with Aoyama, Ashido, and Hagakure. I wanted my midnight conversations with Shinsou and Tokoyami. I wanted my video game sessions with Kaminari and Sero. I wanted my morning meditation meetings with Shoji, Ojiro, and Koda. I wanted to watch pro-wrestling with Bakugou and Kirishima. I wanted to train with Iida, Uraraka, and Midoriya. I wanted to swim with Asui. I wanted to listen to music with Jiro and Mr. Present Mic. I wanted inappropriate jokes with Ms. Midnight. I wanted to make Mr. Aizawa proud; I wanted to make myself proud. So, with so many incredible things to live for, I opened my eyes, and attempted to move.

Much to my distaste, it turns out that my relief from pain, as well as the disassociation from my body was nothing more than a thin veil that was easily permeated as I rose from near death. The forest was nothing more than a verdant blur, one that was far from easy to navigate. However, all things end eventually, so I decided to run from death and wherever I ended up would be the least of my worries. I sprinted through the disorder and dysfunction, and wound up walking in on my teacher fighting the son of a bitch who had left me to die a lonely death with only the company of insects and whatever plants were to take over my wilting corpse.

As Mr. Aizawa tackled the cremation villain, I rose from the forest, stared at the man in restraints, and activated my quirk. As the pain transferred from me to him, I felt the veil of insensibility slip over me once more. The villain howled out in agony, the very agony that he had inflicted on me only minutes before. 

“Whatever you do, don’t break your gaze Eraserhead!” I chimed as I finally straightened my form, not wanting the hero to see me in such a state, “You’ll just have to trust me on this one!” Mr. Aizawa nodded, keeping a steady gaze on his target.

“Tried to kill me off?” I snarled as I made my way towards the sadistic bastard and beloved teacher holding him in place.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” the captive growled through gritted teeth, still under an amount of pain that would knock-out any average human. He looked beyond pissed that I survived, as if he took offense to the fact that I didn’t appreciate his work. I waltzed over to him, just far enough from Mr. Aizawa, but just close enough to the charred villain. 

“Surprise, I remain,” I cooed, low enough for only the villain to hear. He bared his teeth at me, looking at me as if he were some sort of rabid animal. I wanted to taunt him. I wanted to make fun of the fact that he had been taken down by a high schooler and their teacher, but I knew that it was never good to brag, because Karma would usually come to bite you in the ass for it. 

I stared at the man covered in staples, every blink I took releasing him from the effects of my quirk. Every blink motivated me to continue staring at him, to immobilize him so Mr. Aizawa could use his eye drops or blink, to buy him some time. However, I knew that this game of “pass the villain” could only go on for so long. Something had to be done. Eventually, the patchwork villain would catch both of us off guard and use his quirk, or one of his buddies would come and back him up. Mr. Aizawa and I were miles away from my peers or the rest of the pro-heroes. It was just the two of us up against this villain, and we were growing tired.

Only minutes after the realization had struck me, the villain escaped from Mr. Aizawa’s scarf when the two of us accidentally blinked at the same time. The human crematorium stood before us, and before I could use my quirk to disable him, he shot out a flurry of blue flames my way.

I dodged this attack as Mr. Aizawa ran towards the villain, yelling out the name “Dabi.” Before Mr. Aizawa was able to restrain him, Dabi grabbed the erasure hero and threw him headfirst into a brick wall, effectively knocking him out. I desperately wanted to check on my partner in battle, but I knew that I couldn’t let my guard down, because now Dabi was staring me directly in the eye.

I could attempt to charge at him, but I would be charred to bits, and even if I somehow managed to avoid his flames, I would meet the same fate as Eraserhead, knocked out and at Dabi’s mercy. I was screwed, I had no back up, my teacher was unconscious, and I was face to face with one of Japan’s most notorious criminals. I was dead meat.

That was until I devised a plan, one that would take out the cremation villain for good. One that would end his reign of terror once and for all. However, there was only one downside to this plan, and that was the fact that this plan would result in two casualties, Dabi and me. However, if I went with any other plan, Mr. Aizawa and I were to become the victims while Dabi walked off scot free. 

I was destined to become a martyr.

With that realization, I turned to my teacher who was slowly coming to his senses and gave him a gentle smile,

“Eraserhead, it has truly been a pleasure,” I announced as Dabi’s arrogant gaze turned to one of confusion. As Mr. Aizawa slowly faded back into his previously comatose state before he had time to be confused, I focused my gaze back on the blue-flamed bastard. It was time to end it, to end his rule once and for all.

I reached into my pocket, grabbed a tiny weapon that fit perfectly in my hand, locked eyes with the villain, smirked, and painlessly slit my neck. As Dabi grasped his neck and choked on his unseen blood, which was truly my blood, he fell to his knees.

As I took what I knew were my last steps, I came face to face with the first half to my murder-suicide. He glared at me, an amalgam of agony that felt nothing at all, and snarled.

“I’ll see you in hell, you cunt.”

I laughed, of all the things he could’ve chosen to be his final words, he chose to give into the childish desire to have the last word with me. As his oddly-familiar eyes drained of life, I felt the pain I had so carelessly inflicted upon myself finally hit me like a freight train.

I began to choke as I fell to my knees, similarly to how Dabi had fallen only seconds before. I knew that my time was up soon, I would succumb to my injuries and lose the thing I had fought tooth and nail for only moments before. I looked to the horizon to find the sun casting his loving gaze upon my battered body. It was as if Apollo himself was granting me a warrior’s death, like he knew I had made some kind of a righteous sacrifice that warranted a soothing transition from death to afterlife.

The sunrise was something like I had never seen before. The blues burned brighter than the flames I had defeated minutes before, the yellow pooled around my weary being like an evening gown to a death dance, and the red painted a comforting scene in the clouds, as if to distract me from my own red that painted my body and the ground around me. I smiled my final smile as I walked into the loving embrace of the sun.

My duty as a hero had been fulfilled.

[nobodyfamousposts]

My-Crack-ulous: Aku-Maid

In which I am a horrible person...

No seriously. Don’t read this.

For @mermain123, for bringing up the cursed image that started this mess in the first place.

Mermain: i said i was suffering

Mermain: i didn't want you to make the internet suffer

Me: That sounds like the internet’s problem.

Also for @bloody-writes. You know why...   ; )

_________________________

Hawk Moth was a supervillain who had been terrorizing Paris for the better part of two years.

But no one could really argue that not all of his ideas have been good. Or well thought out. Or in any way sensible even.

Like the time he akumatized a baby.

Or the time he akumatized a girl to transform people into exact replicas of herself.

Or the fact he keeps akumatizing Mr. Ramier for going on 29 times at this point…

Or the other time he akumatized a baby…

Times that he destroyed Paris. Times that he nearly destroyed the world. Times that he gave people powers that were completely contradictory to the goals of getting the Miraculous he was after by erasing the heroes from existence or transforming them in ways that made the Miraculous inaccessible.

But none of his akumatizations had ever gotten him as much hate, caused as much misery, were were ultimately as pointless as this most recent incident.

Aku-maid.

It was known the instant she was akumatized. As soon as she was transformed, a wave of power enveloped the city. And within that wave, half of the people of Paris were transformed as well. 

…the male half.

Her power was to transform all the men of Paris. She didn’t even have a weapon or attack that did it, it just happened almost instantaneously. All men suddenly found themselves changed.

Or rather, their outfits…

“Ah!”

“What the hell—!?”

“I can’t get it off!”

One by one, every male in Paris suddenly found themselves in a much different state of attire. What had just been a normal day full of various styles and appearances had all suddenly become very…frilly.

“WHY AM I A MAID?!”

Much as implied her namesake, the akuma’s power involved transforming whatever any man was wearing into some variation of a maid outfit.

Every man.

All over Paris.

From Andre Bourgeois, who has refused to leave his office to make an official statement…

“ANDRE!” Audrey shouted, banging on the door. “Get out here this instant!”

“But, honey, I can’t be seen like this!”

To Roger Raincomprix, who has tried to continue his normal duties despite the…change of uniform…

“Stop in the name of the law!” Roger shouted, reaching into his pockets in an automatic reaction to try to get his handcuffs. While the dress he was wearing did still have pockets, the only item they procured was a cleaning rag, which was notably less threatening as the suspect in question stared for a moment before deciding to take off.

“HEY!”

And yes, even to…

“I’m a Macrophage!” Adrien gushed happily as he lifted his lengthy skirt to give a twirl.

…even to Adrien Agreste, who was apparently the only one to find anything pleasant about the current crisis.

Nino stared.

“Dude. Seriously?”

“I’ve always wanted to cosplay!”

Nino, having been long-since exposed to his friend’s deep love for anime in its many forms, at least knew what a Macrophage was. But even so, he couldn’t help but feel there was something odd about the way Adrien took to the long pale dress and cap.

Kim rested a hand on Nino’s shoulder. “Just let the guy enjoy this.”

“At least somebody is.” Nathaniel muttered bitterly as he tried to hide as behind his sketchbook. It was a futile attempt, of course, as he at most only covered his face, leaving the red dress, white apron with pockets, and knee-high boots on full display.

“I don’t understand how he can.” Max complained. He tugged at his own skirt in vain, looking at Adrien’s ankle-length ensemble enviously. The skirt was much shorter than he would have liked—reaching a couple inches above his thigh and almost seemed to be defying gravity to stay that way despite his attempts to get it to either flatten or otherwise lower. “I question the design choices.”

“But you look just like Misaki from Maid Sama! And Nathaniel looks like Lizbeth!” Adrien insisted. “It’s totally a cosplay!”

Max just stared incredulously. He was wearing a black dress with puffy sleeves that tapered off just shy of his elbow, white apron, a cap, and thigh-high black stockings and knee-high boots, it seemed Adrien did have a point.

Max, in all fairness, didn’t particularly care in favor of the problems that came with suddenly finding himself in a short dress, heels, and a corset.

“I just can’t peg where Kim or Nino’s outfits are from.” He continued, studying the outfits in question contemplatively. “But give me a little time! It’ll come to me!”

The boys had been having an afternoon hangout session in the park. No girls. No teachers. No Gabriel Agreste or bodyguards to whisk certain teen models away. It was supposed to be a normal non-drama-filled day.

…which was naturally when it became something less than normal and certainly more than drama-filled.

“I think I get why girls complain about this sort of thing now.” Kim said, looking at his shoes. “These heels are kind of uncomfortable…”

“Are you sure it’s the heels and not the flippers?” Nino asked, annoyed.

Sure enough, Kim was wearing flipper-heels. They were black and also had black ankle straps with a little bow on each. This strange footwear did seem to go with Kim’s talent in swimming, which was also emphasized by the ruffle maid swimsuit they matched with.

“Nah, it’s definitely the heels.” Kim insisted.

So this was what their all-boys’ afternoon had come to.

Kim was wobbling on unsteady heels.

Nathaniel groaned and kept his ever reddening face covered.

Max was questioning where they could procure jackets. Long jackets.

Adrien was giggling to himself and asking if they could do a full Cells at Work group cosplay.

And Nino paled, suddenly realizing something.

"Guys. Guys, we have to hide!"

"Why?" Kim asked. "It's annoying, but this akuma doesn't seem really dangerous."

"No, you don't get it!" Nino hissed. "If Alya catches us, we will NEVER live this down!"

Nathaniel looked over the edge of his sketchbook. “Alya wouldn’t actually post pictures of us to the Ladyblog, would she?”

A long pause followed.

The boys paled.

Except for Adrien, who turned to them with a gasp of excitement. “Do you think she would? We could do a group picture!”

All the other boys paled even more, looking downright ill.

And immediately took off running.

Or at least as well as they could with heels. None of them made it very far without tripping, stumbling, or simply struggling to stay upright as they still tried to move away from the area as quickly as the heels would allow.

“But what’s wrong with—?”

“JUST RUN, ADRIEN!”

“Who thought maid outfits with high heels was a good idea?! How can anyone be expected to clean in these things?

“I will never draw high heels on a super heroine again.”

“I can’t breathe! Who created corsets?! What objective does this achieve besides crushing one’s lungs?”

Nino groaned, still running. “I hope Hawk Moth is suffering as much as we are!”

_____________________

If Nino Lahiffe had the ability to break the fourth wall and peer into the events happening outside of his immediate vicinity, he would be happy to find this was actually the case.

And he would laugh.

Oh, how he would laugh.

“Sir…?”

“Don’t.” Came the dark growl from a very unhappy supervillain. “Don’t say anything, Nathalie..."

This was an akuma that impacted every male in Paris. Every male.

…even to Hawk Moth, himself.

“Why did this happen?”

It would appear that even Hawk Moth was not immune to Aku-Maid’s power as he had been similarly transformed. And unfortunately, due to the change, he could no longer access his Miraculous. The Butterfly broach had disappeared, having been transformed along with his outfit.

And his outfit had…actually left much to be desired.

Which was truthfully just a nice way of saying it was ugly.

Really, really ugly.

Normally the picture of stoicism, Nathalie had to pretend to cough to avoid reacting.

“Can’t you order the akuma to undo it?” She eventually was able to ask.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes in concentration. “No. It’s no good. I’ve lost the link!”

His eyes widened and he clutched his chest in a panic.

“Where is the Miraculous?!” Hawk Moth demanded, trying—and failing to pull at the tasteless dress. But as others across the city had already discovered, the clothes were magic and would not be removed or displaced. Not even the frock or the cap he now wore.

“Sir, you were transformed when you changed. It looks like the Butterfly Miraculous was transformed along with you.”

He froze, eyes widening in horror. “But that’s—”

He grasped at the empty place on his chest. Where once had been his lapel and pin now only had ruffles and a leathery texture. His mask remained in place, though it was now fully black except for the openings around his eyes and mouth, which were bordered with a lighter grey color. The material and outfit overall had a shine to it that could be found on any wetsuit.

To put it nicely: he looked atrocious.

To put it bluntly: he looked like some sort of BDSM role-player with a maid kink.

So it was fortunate, perhaps, that no one else in Paris would have to be subject to the sight.

Except Nathalie. Who was probably going to have nightmares.

Or a coronary from the laughter she was trying to hold back.

It was admittedly a bit hard to tell.

But it seemed she was handling the situation a bit better than Hawk Moth, despite the fact that the man was currently unable to see himself or the full extent of the monstrosity he now wore.

…this was probably for the best. Given the man’s fashion sense, there was really no telling whether he would be horrified or inspired, and nobody would want to find out.

“I can’t contact the akuma! And I can’t call it back!”

He moaned, covering his…already covered face with his hands. “I’ll never be taken seriously again!”

Nathalie resolutely held back from pointing out he was barely being taken seriously now.

“It’s…not that bad?” She tried. Not very well, but she tried.

Hawk Moth clutched his head in horror. “Unless Ladybug and Chat Noir can stop this akuma, we’re doomed!”

“Sir, it’s just an akuma that puts men in maid outfits. It’s really not that bad.”

“DOOOOOOMED!!!”

__________________________

The akuma, for her part, was unaware of her benefactor’s misery, too busy enjoying the abject misery of everyone else around her.

Nobody knew just what had set the girl off to get her akumatized in the first place. Her comments about men being “the eye-candy now” suggested an argument. The maid outfits involved suggested what the topic of the argument had been regarding.

To be honest, nobody had actually realized she was the akuma responsible. She did appear fairly normal by akuma terms, dressed in a seemingly authentic Victorian era dress more befitting as an authentic Lady’s Maid compared the frillier, lacier varieties that the men around her had suddenly found themselves in. What would normally have gotten her a few odds looks was mostly ignored in the face of the sudden change. Few even took notice of her dark purple skin or black hair. Or the fan in her hand.

“THAT’S RIGHT! SEE HOW YOU LIKE BEING OBJECTIFIED!”

The yelling…was a bit harder to miss.

It was the first thing that drew the attention of the three girls settled at the cafe.

The second thing was the various cries of horror as several of the men around them suddenly discovered their state of dress transformed into…well…dresses. Of a variety that made the little cafe appear more like a maid cafe than anything.

The third thing was the appearance of a familiar face running down the road, holding up his long white dress to make running easier as he looked for a place to hide.

Marinette stared.

“ADRIEN?!”

Adrien Agreste was running around in a long white and pale cream Victorian-era dress and cap, looking like Cinderella running from the ball. Except a maid.

A quick glance to her companions showed that both Alya and Kagami were similarly staring in befuddlement, so this was neither her imagination or a fever dream.

“Adrien? What’s going on?” Alya asked for everyone.

“It’s an akuma!” He replied, quickly. “She’s putting everybody into cosplay!”

“…cosplay?”

“Yeah!”

“…everybody?”

He paused, glancing around. “Well…all the guys, I think?”

Marinette stared.

“…Just that?” Alya asked, thankfully taking over while Marinette’s brain started to become aware that this WAS Adrien she was talking to. “She’s not doing anything else besides putting guys into…‘cosplays’?”

He blinked in confusion. “I…think so?”

“She isn’t…I don’t know…commanding you or anything?”

“Well, she hasn’t yet. Which, really, isn’t so bad for an akuma if you think about it.” He said with a frown before he noticed the strange look on Kagami’s face. “Kagami, are you okay?”

Kagami made a strangled sound.

“Marinette?”

Marinette pretended to choke on a drink from an empty glass to avoid speaking.

“Can I add to your order?” The waiter came by, seeming unconcerned by the ruckus or the act that he was now wearing a rather cutesy maid outfit the likes of which would be seen in a maid cafe in Japan.

“You don’t seem put off by this.” Alya pointed out, noting his relatively unfazed attitude compared to the panicking of the other men around them…or the gushing from Adrien.

The waiter took it in stride.

“It’s okay.” He replied blankly. “I’m already dead inside.”

“Oh.”

He turned to Kagami. “Do you need anything else, Miss?”

Kagami was still staring at Adrien, blushing furiously.

“I think I have a problem.”

“You mean a kink?”

“A. Problem.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“Story of my life.” The waiter replied as he refilled her glass of water, either unaware or uncaring of the specific nature of her trouble.

Alya gasped in sudden realization. “Wait! If this is happening here then…” She turned to Adrien. “Where were Nino and the boys?” He blinked, curious. “Oh, they decided to head home. Why?”

An almost sinister smirk formed on Alya’s face. One that would have anyone it was directed at cowering in fear. And strong enough to be felt from several blocks away.

Unbeknownst to them, Nino felt that smirk like a trail of cold fingers down his back, and promptly threw himself into his room and slammed the door shut behind him.

As if she sensed this, Alya slammed several bills on the table and dashed out the door.

“GOTTA GO!”

Realizing an akuma was about, Marinette was right on her heels. She found a nearby alleyway and immediately prepared to transform and face this latest threat.

“Oh my god. OH MY GOD.” She broke down, letting out the laughter she’d been trying so hard to hold in. “He’s a dork! The boy I’m crushing on is a complete DORK who is in to cosplaying! He thinks maid outfits are COSPLAY!”

…or she would be.

“And here I’ve been driving myself nuts with anxiety over just asking him out and he doesn’t even—”

Any minute now…

“Marinette!” Tikki hissed. “You need to stop the akuma!”

“Can’t I just take a picture first?”

“MARINETTE!”

“Oh fine…”

_____________________

Luka didn’t realize anything had happened. He felt a bit off balanced for a moment, and a bit colder, but attributed that to being on the Liberty. So he simply shifted his stance to be a bit more steady and continued playing. It wasn’t until the drum stopped that he realized something was actually wrong.

The look of shock from Mylene and the following shriek from Ivan cemented it.

He spun around, not sure what could have elicited such a cry from his fellow bandmate. And at first, he couldn’t really tell what had happened. Ivan was crouched behind the drum set, covering his face with his hands and trembling in what appeared to be mortification.

Then he noticed the mobcap on Ivan’s head, which he was pretty sure hadn’t been there before. And Ivan’s shirt seemed distinctly…fluffier and frillier than he remembered seeing a few minutes ago. He tried to move closer to offer help, only for his own balance to be off. And when he looked down…

Oh.

The dress was new.

As were the stockings.

And the notably thinner and sleeker heels on his boots.

He hummed to himself, considering the change.

“Akuma?” Juleka asked him.

“Most likely.” He replied.

Mylene had rushed up to their practice stage and to Ivan’s side, even as he moaned for her to not look at him. The poor guy was completely red in embarrassment. Seeing how upset he was, the other three had backed away, leaving Mylene to try to help her boyfriend.

“Luka, are you okay?” Rose asked worriedly, trying to respect Ivan’s need for space while also checking in on their other effected bandmate.

“I’m fine. It was just a surprise at first.” He replied.

It wasn’t every day that you suddenly found yourself in a maid outfit, after all. It was a simple outfit. White off the shoulder puffy sleeves with black frills. A black tube skirt. White apron. And…he reached to his neck where a weight was, feeling a choker.

Huh…

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Honestly, he could be in worse.

Rose seemed surprised at that. “Really? Even with those shoes?”

He looked down at the shoes in question. The boots were his style—surprisingly, given it was an akuma. The higher heels were definitely different from his norm, and clearly what Rose was referring to. In any other circumstances, she would be right.

But...

Luka smiled, shifting his stance and resting a hand on his hip. “Well, someone had to teach Jules to walk in heels. And I couldn’t show her if I didn’t know how myself.

Juleka huffed. “Don’t say that like you didn’t enjoy playing dress up.”

Luka merely curtsied, not only showing off more of his slightly ripped and punk-looking fishnet stockings, but almost proudly displaying his ability to move fluently in heels.

Rose appropriately “oo-ed” and “aah-ed” at his display. Juleka merely shook her head and smiled. Ivan was still recovering from his panic attack and had resolutely refused to come out from behind the drums, despite Mylene’s reassurances.

“So it has to be an akuma, right?” Rose asked.

“If it is, I want a picture or two, at least.” Juleka muttered as she admired Luka’s outfit, mumbling about commissioning Marinette to recreate it in her size. She hadn’t known maids could come in this style.

Mylene nodded from her place at Ivan’s side. “Though it seems rather fortunate if this is all the akuma is doing.”

“We don’t know if that is it, though.” Luka warned. “For all we know, there could be some other ability she has if she catches us. It would probably be safer if we hid out inside until this is over.”

The others agreed. And Anarka, bless her soul, actually came up with a large blanket for Ivan to wrap himself in to preserve his dignity. Then she and Mylene helped the taller teen to safely relocate to inside. Much like Luka, Ivan’s shoes had changed, but he was substantially less able to maneuver in them. And no amount of effort or force on his part could seem to separate the heels from his feet.

Once he and the others were inside, Luka moved to follow. He hesitated, however, at the sound of something landing behind him.

“Viperion? We’ll need your help.”

He turned to see Ladybug standing tall. And was that perhaps a hint of blush on her face?

Oh. 

A shame.

It looked like Juleka wouldn’t be getting her pictures, after all...

_____________________

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

He shuddered, backing away from the door as far as possible.

“Ninoooooo…”

It was a fight for survival.

“C’mon, Nino. Just open the door.”

The survival of his dignity, but still!

He’d lost track of the others and immediately rushed home and to the safety of his room. His room, which he could lock and hide away in until this all blew over.

“I have a key!” Came Chris’s voice. “Somewhere…”

“Give it and I won’t take any pictures of you.”

“Deal!”

His room, which his traitorous little brother was willing to allow the enemy entry into.

Under any normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be this desperate. But if Alya caught him like this…

Black dress. Puffy at the shoulder, sleeves that extended to his wrists and were bound by white cuffs. A white smock tied back with a white ribbon. White bow at the neck and white frills along the bottom of the dress?

Oh yeah…Alya would never let this go…

He knew he shouldn’t have gotten into all those anime Adrien pushed him into! So what if the maids were cute? And sure, he’d admit he's had a thought or two of Alya in such attire...

But how was he supposed to know Alya had such thoughts as well? And in the complete opposite direction! Clearly this was the akuma’s magic punishing him!

Nino looked to his window.

It would be a long fall, but it was his only escape.

But would the broken legs be worth it when Alya would soon figure out what he did and be able to catch up to him easily?

Maybe he could try to climb up instead…but in these heels? It was suicide!

“Fufufu!”

…screw it. 

He opened up his window, only to meet a new pair of eyes.

Ladybug stared in surprise from her place at his windowsill, a certain box in hand.

“…hi?”

“Oh thank god!” He exclaimed. He took her by her shoulders, half leaning out and half pulling her in. “Alya’s insisting on taking pictures! Please tell me you have my Miraculous with you!”

“Actually, about that—”

“I don’t care! I’ll do anything! Just please—SAVE ME!”

Ladybug looked back behind her to a distant rooftop and the other allies she’d left behind.

The sound of a key jingling could be heard and Nino stared up at her, pleadingly.

Well, she could never resist the eyes…

By the time they’d gotten the door open, the room was empty.

Nino was gone.

_____________________

Six heroes stood assembled.

Ladybug.

Chat Noir.

Carapace.

Viperion.

King Monkey.

Pegasus.

Six heroes.

Five of whom were male.

And…still wearing some semblance of feminine maid-like outfits.

Ladybug wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or worried.

“What the hell?! I thought the Miraculous were supposed to change us into our hero suits?” Nino groused.

Contrary to his hopes and expectations, using the Miraculous had not transformed him into his normal Carapace look, but had rather simply given him a different outfit. The dress itself was green and had a turtle shell pattern, while the apron and waist belts were a brown color. The bowknot around his neck was a dark green and a brown to match the apron. He wore stockings. And to his very limited relief, his shoes were flats instead of heels.

“Well, at least this skirt is longer.” Pegasus said, now wearing a dark brown blouse and bicycle skirt. The skirt went to just above his ankles, for which he was grateful. But this seemed to be countered by the increase of height to his heels.

Plus no corset. The outfit was still fit tightly and not very comfortable, but at least he could breathe now.

“Though I believe we’re getting away from maid-wear now.” Chat said, conversationally.

Pegasus gave him a flat look. “I’m not complaining.”

If Chat had witnessed his earlier ensemble, surely he would understand.

King Monkey, for his part, seemed somewhat appeased with his Miraculous suit. It was a notably more Eastern style of dress, appearing more like robes worn by palace servants. He wore a light brown waistcoat with wide sleeves over a blouse and a wrap-around skirt. It looked heavy, but Kim seemed to have no trouble with it. Maybe it was made of a lighter material…?

And Viperion’s dress was different in style as well. Whereas his maid outfit as Luka had been more punk, this was more sleek. Wearing a green sleeveless dress and white smock, as well as what appeared to be a green corset. The dress had a slit at the sides, giving more maneuverability for his legs…as well as more show, given the appearance of a garter belt and stockings. His shoes were high heeled but including a beautiful snake design that wrapped around his ankles. To finish it off, rather than remain bare, his arms were covered in what appeared to be loose green sleeves that started at his elbows and extended to his wrists.

…maybe a picture or two wouldn’t hurt? Or three? Because the amount of details on these outfits were amazing and she was just brimming with ideas now…

Ladybug broke out of her musings when someone tugged on her shoulder to get her attention.

It was Chat. Chat who, much like the other heroes, as dressed in a fantastical outfit. Though a maid outfit, it was definitely more cat-themed with a giant paw-like gloves covering his hands, a paw print on his apron, and bow and bell on his tail which rang as he shifted.

What material was that made of, anyway? She kind of wanted to give it a feel and see if she could find something to compare it to. Maybe a quick sketch?

Oh. Right.

Akuma.

Maybe if she was lucky, they could finish this quickly so she could rush back home and take notes while she still had the ideas bouncing in her brain.

…maybe someone would have gotten pictures by then…?

“Ladybug?” Chat whispered, snapping her back to reality.

“Yes?”

Chat frowned in concern. “Is the Guardian okay with this?”

Ladybug froze.

“PSST! Ladybug!” Came a voice from a nearby rooftop, drawing her attention.

“Master Fu?”

“Ladybug! Here’s the Miracle Box. Take as many allies as you can and resolve this as soon as possible!”

“Master? Are…you hiding in a box?”

“No questions! Just go!”

“…he’s fine.”

Chat seemed uncertain, but decided not to pry.

“Let’s just split up and find the akuma.” Ladybug said. “But don’t engage until we’re all together!”

With that, the six split into three groups, with Chat and Carapace going one way and King Monkey and Pegasus going another, leaving Ladybug and Viperion searching together with the former trying not to get caught stealing peeks at the latter.

“Is something wrong?” He asked with a smile.

…trying. The key word was trying not to get caught.

“No! Nothing!” She replied quickly. “I’m just…surprised that you can still move so quickly in those heels.”

“I’ve had practice.” He explained, still smiling. He even lifted one leg behind him, managing to stand perfectly balanced even on one leg in heels.

“I…see.”

Part of her wanted very much to laugh. It was the same part that had found this entire day ridiculous. The other part of her was her inner artist at work and really wanted to make a few sketches inspired from the presented outfits. Like Viperion’s sleeves…and those shoes with a snake coil wrapping around the ankle…

“Ladybug!”

Gaah! Focus!

She turned towards the shout to find King Monkey and Pegasus stumbling towards her.

Her fingers twitched. She ignored it.

“We found the akuma.” King Monkey reported. “She doesn’t seem to be doing anything. Just…kind or roaming around.”

“And laughing.” Pegasus added bitterly. “She appears to be doing a lot of that.”

“How’s THAT for ‘doll them up’?” Came a shout from street level. “HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT, HUH?!”

As if on cue…

Ladybug and the others peeked over the edge of the roof.

“Has she displayed any other powers?” She asked.

“No.” Pegasus replied. “From what we could see, her power has already been activated to…obvious effect.” He hesitated, resolutely avoiding mentioning his new outfit or the indignity he’d already suffered. “She has only been laughing. And tripping the occasional person while searching for someone in particular—possibly the one responsible for her ire.”

Ladybug nodded. “At least she’s distracted and doesn’t know we’re here. We just need a plan of attack before we try to fight her.”

“No problem!” King Monkey said with a grin as he reached for his weapon. “We can just do a head on attack with our weapons and—”

They stared.

In place of his staff was a broom. A normal cleaning broom.

They sent cautious glances to each other before they checked their own inventory.

Said inventory consisted of a broom, a bucket, and a feather duster.

“I believe that constitutes as a problem.” Pegasus stated worriedly.

“That’s no fair!” King Monkey exclaimed. “Adrien was able to summon a machete!”

Ladybug blanched at that. “A what?!”

Pegasus pushed up his glasses. “I believe it’s a component of his…‘cosplay’?”

“Pfft!” Ladybug covered her mouth with her hand.

“Ladybug?”

“I-it’s nothing!” She replied hurriedly.

Viperion raised his eyebrow at her but didn’t comment.

King Monkey at least seemed to take it in stride.

“Now we just need a plan for attack!”

“With what?!” Pegasus questioned, waving the feather duster in frustration. “Our weapons don’t work!”

“More like our weapons aren’t actually weapons.” Viperion said, considering his bucket.

“I could smack her.” King Monkey offered, holding up his broom. “Maybe your feather duster has dust on it and could make her sneeze?”

Pegasus gave him a flat look.

“I think the broom is the best weapon we have right now.”

“Don’t knock a bucket!” King Monkey commanded, resolutely. “I got one stick on my head one time and it took hours to get it off! Buckets are evil, man!”

Pegasus sighed and rubbed his head. “It concerns me that you’re the second person I know whom that has happened to.”

Ladybug coughed, discretely trying to draw attention off that particular subject lest identities be at risk. “Anyway, I think I have a plan...”

______________________

To be honest, it wasn’t that difficult of an akuma. Especially not with six of them teaming up against it.

Akumaid truly see to have no ability other than the initial one of transforming what any male in Paris was wearing into something embarrassing...unless you were Adrien, apparently. Aside from that, she showed no other power—neither over the clothes themselves or the people wearing them. Well, she wasn’t controlling any of the victims or shrinking the clothing to choke them at any rate...which if you think about it, was rather lame for an akuma in the power department.

The only real disadvantage in battle came in the difficulty the boys had moving freely in their current outfits. And the afore noted lack of proper weaponry.

Their advantage of surprising was ruined by Chat’s bell ringing before they could ambush her, and both Carapace and Pegasus losing balance with their heels and falling over. King Monkey’s outfit, while longer, also meant more fabric to flap about and resist his movements regardless of how light it may have been, so he wasn’t able to get a hit in fast enough before the akuma turned on him and knocked him away.

Chat was able to get a hit in though.

With his…Kitty Wand…

“THIS IS MAGICAL PUNISHMENT!” He shouted as he smacked the akuma over the head.

“Chat. Chat no. Chat why?”

And Ladybug had hopelessly lost her composure by this point and was laughing. Just laughing. Laughing so hard she was crying actual tears as she smacked her own thigh in her struggle to breathe. Viperion was trying to help her stay standing, keeping an arm around her to support her as she half leaned and half chuckled tears into his chest.

“What’s going on? Does the akuma have some power over Ladybug, too?” King Monkey asked.

…

Viperion sighed.

“Sure. Something to that effect.”

Ladybug wheezed.

“LADYBUG!”

“Lu-haha-lucky haha-charm!”

It said something when her own Lucky Charm magicked up a paper bag. With Ladybug still victim to her fit of giggles, Viperion simply put the bag over her face and had her try to breathe.

“A paper bag doesn’t help with out of control laughing.” Pegasus noted as he forced himself to his feet.

“Do you want to try to figure out the Lucky Charm?” Viperion bit out in annoyance, Ladybug still shaking in his arms.

Pegasus coughed and backed away. “No, thank you.”

Ladybug let out another giggle.

“All right, enough! I’ll stop her!” Carapace shouted, reaching for his back. “With my…serving plate.”

His shield.

His precious shield was gone.

“…Carapace?” Ladybug asked.

The newly rendered Turtle Maid sighed and simply threw the plate as he had his shield, not expecting much.

…the plate slice flew through the air at a surprising speed, but missed the akuma entirely. Instead, it sailed past her, hitting a light post.

Ladybug had expected it to bounce, but instead there was a sound of shredding metal as the serving plate actually tore through the lamp post and into the concrete itself.

The lamp post, now detached, tilted and fell over—conveniently on top of the akuma before she had the time to realize what was happening and move out of the way.

SLAM!

It fell on top of her and she hit the ground.

“Huzzah?” Kim asked.

“Well…that’s one way to defeat an akuma.” Pegasus marveled.

“Great. Now can we fix this already?” Carapace asked impatiently. If they took too much longer, someone was bound to catch them.

That someone would probably be Alya.

And that was the last thing he wanted at this point.

“But I kind of wanted to make a sketch at least…” Ladybug muttered to herself, holding the paper bag Charm to her chest.

“LADYBUG!”

She waved her hands insistently. “I’m on it!”

But she could dream…

“MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

It was with some disappointment that the Miraculous Cure wiped away the outfits of the other heroes, returning them to their original costumes.

“OH THANK GOD!”

“That was…horrible…”

“Corsets were invented as a torture method, I swear…”

“Shieldy!” Carapace exclaimed, hugging the shield in relief. “Never leave me again!”

“You okay now, Ladybug?” Chat asked her in worry.

“I’m fine.” She said, even though she wasn’t really. She felt like she’d missed a chance, even if it was for the greater good. But it would have been an abuse of her power to be taking pictures of the guys in that state and she already felt bad enough for breaking down laughing in the middle of the fight.

In that moment, however, the loveliness of ladybugs that made up the Cure returned from their task of restoring Paris to flow over Ladybug herself before vanishing, leaving her holding an envelope in their wake. Curious, she opened the envelope…

She gasped.

Inside were a multitude of photos of the other heroes. From different angles. In different positions. All of them in their new outfits.

Ladybug bit the inside of her cheek to keep from responding and drawing attention to herself.

…Thank you, Tikki.

Best. Kwami. Ever. “Ladybug…” Carapace said in growing wariness. “What is that?”

“Nothing!”

“Ladybug. That better not be what I think it is…”

She shoved the photos back in the envelope.

“It’s nothing at all!”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Noticing the stand off, the others approached as well.

“It was just something I was missing, yeah.”

“Then let us see it.”

“Can’t.” She replied, clutching the envelope to her chest. “It’s…Ladybug stuff.”

“Hand it over. Right now!”

"NOOO! THESE ARE FOR THE FUTURE OF FASHIOOOON!”

“GIVE US THE PHOTOS!”

“Wait—did she get any of all of us in a group cosplay pic?”

“NOT NOW, CHAT!”

Unfortunately, that small distraction was all she needed to get away.

Viperion, the only one having been pretty nonchalant this whole time, simply watched her leave and the others shout after her.

“…isn’t she going to take our Miraculous back?”

_________________________

Angela sighed, already dreading what was to come.

It was a humiliating end to an already humiliating week as the former akuma victim had been forced to return to her job to go over the updates for the new Ladybug game with the rest of her team.

Said updates were apparently to include maid outfits for the female heroes thanks to one particular coworker who had decided to work on maid outfits for the female heroes instead of the level he was assigned. It had been part of the reason she had been angry enough to be akumatized.

The fact that he was insistent on shoving his maid fetish into the game for no good reason other than having them be eye candy was the other part.

The images in question that he insisted on bringing featured the three female super heroes of the city: Ladybug, Rena Rouge, and Queen Bee.

But not as anyone had ever seen them.

Instead of their usual hero suits, the three girls were portrayed in sultry, even provocative poses. And most notably, all three were wearing some mockery of a French Maid outfit…as what would be believed by Americans, no less.

They might as well have been the initial sketches of pinup posters.

“You can’t still be serious!”

“Hey, I’m not the one who got akumatized just because I was jealous that someone else had a good idea.” He said bitingly and giving her a pointed look, perhaps still a bit bitter of the aforementioned experience that her akumatization had caused.

“It’s not a good idea, John.” Angela countered. “There was no reason to have the girls be running in maid outfits.”

He shrugged. “We could just say an akuma did it. After all, we did just get an akuma who did exactly that.” He said, giving her another look.

She clenched her fists and was about to retort when their team lead entered the room.

The meeting commenced and she’d been forced to bite her tongue. Each of the team members went over their progress and updates for their contribution to the game. Level design. Enemies. Testing.

And then came his grand achievement. Instead of the level he was assigned, he gave scantily clad designs for three of the eight known heroes.

What effort.

“I was thinking we really need to include something to make our game stand out, so I made some extra skins for the heroes.” He bragged, sending her a smug look. “The appeal would sell plenty of copies.”

“Or the controversy.” Angela muttered back before turning to the team lead and hoping that the man leading their group had more empathy…or sense.

The team lead looked over the designs with an analyzing gaze. Tiffeny, despite the initial impression his name would give, was a rather buff man who took no shit. But was also a guy. Who liked guy things. But did those things include young women in maid costumes?

After a moment, Tiffeny dropped the pictures on the table and looked at John incredulously. “You know, if you were going to base skins off recent events, you could at least have been authentic.”

John stared. “What?”

“It was the guys who were affected by Akumaid. Not the girls. If we’re going to do maids, we need to keep it true to life, just like the rest of the designs we’ve included. We talked about this when we started this project.”

“But it’s what the audience wants!” John argued.

“Do you know who comprises the majority of our audience?” Tiffeny asked. “Girls. Girls, gay guys, and those who are exploring their interests. Guys in the outfits would sell leagues more than the girls.” He started ticking his fingers “It’s different. It’s original. And it’s based in actual events. People would love it.”

“But…they’ll love this!”

“Man, if people wanted to see sexy girls in skimpy clothing, they’d play literally any other game! Or watch porn.” Tiffeny explained. “But what game do you know of has had guys in maid outfits?”

“Well...”

“Exactly. We want to stand out. And we even have recent events as justification. So if you’re going to be wasting time you should be spending on level-making to put people in maid skins, then get those male heroes some maid costumes.”

“But that’s not fair!” John exclaimed.

Tiffeny paused at that. “Hmm…you’re right.”

With that, he turned to her. “You’re good at designing. Make some butler outfits for the girls. Something dashing to serve as a counter for the guys.”

Angela blinked in surprise for a moment before smiling.

“Sure thing!”

“You know…” one of the other workers noted. “While we’re on the subject, I WAS thinking of some medieval armor designs for the girls and princess dresses for the guys.”

“Hey yeah! Like a light green for Viperion!”

“Maybe teal might be better?”

“Ooo! How about…”

Soon enough, everyone seemed to be invested in the new plan.

Everyone that is, except John.

“Lovely!” Tiffeny said cheerfully. “Plan it out and bring the concepts to me later.”

With a new task in hand and John’s pouting to forever be a memory to hold onto, it seemed her day was looking up…

_________________________

“That was some akuma battle.” Marinette said as she slid into her seat next to Alya.

The reporter, however, only looked annoyed. “Ladybug had apparently called all the male heroes and I completely missed it!” She groaned and leaned back in her seat, bemoaning the lost opportunity.

If she’d hadn’t been so focused on tracking Nino for the purpose of collecting blackmail ensuring his safety, she would have been able to catch all of the male heroes in their maid outfits.

Marinette smiled. “You know…I may have a connection…”

Alya gasped.

“No.”

Marinette giggled and slid over her phone with a picture showing.

“NO WAY!” She cried out before staring up at Marinette in shock. “Girl, you have to send me these!”

“Wait—you have what now?” Nino had arrived, initially hopeful that he had avoided the worst of that day only to have those hopes immediately dashed upon arriving to see the two girls sharing what could only have been one thing…

“I have pictures of the heroes in their new outfits.” Marinette replied cheerfully as she swiped through her phone. “Oh look, Nino! You’re in here, too!”

“WHAT?! NO!” He shouted, rushing forward.

Marinette quickly grabbed back her phone and hid it in her pocket with an overly sweet and not at all innocent grin.

“Mari, come on, no! Don’t do this to me!” He begged.

“Don’t do this to ME!” Alya cut in. “You can’t just show me that and take it away! That’s just not fair!”

“Don’t worry.” Marinette assured them. “It’s going where all my blackmail material goes.”

“Wait what?”

“Since when do you have blackmail material?”

“Since somebody started a game of ‘let’s take pictures of Marinette while she’s asleep and post them online’.” Marinette replied dryly.

Nino groaned. “Come on! I said I was sorry!”

“And now I can be just as sorry.” She replied blithely.

Which was to say: not sorry at all.

“Come on! Alya made me do it!”

“It was just in fun! Marinette! Please!”

“Do you want me to beg? Cry? I’ll cry.”

“I’ll pay you! Pretty please! At least the heroes if nothing else!”

“Oh no you don’t!”

“My blog NEEDS this!”

Marinette smiled at the minor chaos she had caused as the normally happy couple bickered with each other.

Sweet sweet music.

“Hey, Marinette!”

And speaking of sweet…

She turned to look up at a certain blond-haired model as he arrived at his own desk. Though he seemed to be a bit distracted by the arguing couple.

“Hey, Adrien!” She greeted, for once with no stutter to speak of.

“Hey, um…are they okay?” He asked, gesturing to the two.

“Oh, they’re fine.” She said, waving them off. “Just…a bit excited over the recent akuma.”

At that, Adrien brightened. “Wasn’t it awesome?”

She nodded, trying to keep her laughter inside.

“You…ah…enjoyed yourself then?”

Adrien shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. “Well, it’s not often I get to dress up in a way that’s ‘silly’. Or in anything that isn’t promoting Father’s brand. And I’ve never gotten to cosplay. So it was…really fun.”

Oh. Ouch. Okay, that one kind of hurt. The poor Sunshine Child…

“You know…” Marinette said, leaning over her desk and smiling at him. “I’ve seen a bit of that one anime you mentioned.”

“Cells at Work?” He asked, brightening up.

She nodded. “Mmhmm. I could make you a jacket based off the lead Red Blood Cell. And if you like, I can keep it so you can wear it whenever we hang out.”

He gasped. “Really?”

“Sure! Maybe you can come over sometime so we can try a fitting. We could even play Mecha Strike.”

Adrien beamed. “That sounds great! Thanks, Marinette!”

She waved him off and went back to full sitting in her seat.

Alya and Nino both became distracted from their arguing by the miracle they had just witnessed.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had just spoken to Adrien Agreste…and not a stutter to be heard!

“What the heck, girl?” Alya whispered, sliding into her seat beside her friend. “Since when could you do THAT and why haven’t you done it sooner? I could swear I saw hearts in his eyes!”

Marinette shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “After seeing Adrien Agreste in a maid dress, I kind of wondered why I was so scared of talking to him to begin with.”

Alya laughed. “Well, at least something good came out of this, then.”

“You know...more good WOULD come out of this if I had pics of those heroes..." 

“Really, Alya?”

“You’re pretty much the only one who managed to get any shots of the male heroes!” Alya exclaimed. “Seriously, how?!”

Marinette giggled.

“Just lucky, I guess.”

________________________

OMAKE 1:

Knock! Knock!

“Felix?” His mother called on the other side of the locked and barricaded door. “Will you be coming out?”

“That depends. Do you have a camera?”

A pause. Which was all the answer he needed.

“Then no.”

OMAKE 2:

Fortunately, in the midst of their searching, the team had managed to find the akuma and her primary target, getting between the two.

“So what happened?” Ladybug asked him.

John gripped his skirt, nervously. “She’s my coworker in developing a new video game and she didn’t like my input.”

“What set her off?”

The guy rolled his eyes. “She’s one of those types who wants to take the fun out of video games.”

“What?” Ladybug blinked.

“Okay, so I wanted to put some maid costumes in the game! It was just for fun! Besides, it would have added a bit of pizazz! Something for the players to enjoy!”

“You could just try making a good game.” Pegasus pointed out. “If you have to rely on a cheap gimmick to get buyers, it may not be a good product.”

"I'm sorry, really! I mean, sure, I'm still going to put it in the game, because who wouldn't want hot maids, but still! That doesn't mean I deserve this!"

The akuma raised her fist and shouted at him. “THEY ARE HEROES, DAMMIT! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN MAID SKINS JUST BECAUSE THEY’RE GIRLS!”

Ladybug blanched. “Wait…is the game about me?”

Pegasus coughed and looked away. “There have been…rumors, yes.”

Viperion tilted his head. “That seems like a double standard though…since we’re the ones in maid outfits...”

“Not the point, Viperion!”

Ladybug frowned.

“I don’t think I want to help now.”

“Ladybug!”

[stardusthhj]

We fell in love where the sun never rose - 01

TW: mention of death, weapons, bruises. Reader’s discretion advised.

Genre: mafia au. Gang au. Revenge au.

WC: 2,3k

Wrath is a feeling that could push anyone to extents they didn't think they could go to. And wrath is what pushed you in front of the black door, adorned by mildew and brownish cracks. You half expected a prestigious mansion. But after a second thought it was all the more logical that underground businesses were hiding- taking place underground. You softly chuckled at your own stupidity. The man next to you stretched his hand towards the door - or what was left of it- motioning you to push it open. You looked at him as his black hair fell to his eyes. His locks were thick and long, his hairstyle very trendy -just like the rest of him actually. He had the kind of face that would let anyone struck in awe. It would have affected you as well, hadn’t you be blinded long ago by everything you now longed for. By the sheer reason for which you stood before the door next to Hyunjin. His playful smirk wouldn't leave his lips. You observed him for a long time before and never had you seen his lips falling down. Whatever this smile was hiding it was probably more pain than a human could take.

You focused your attention back on the door, pushing it open. The light was flickering inside, as a long dark corridor took pride of place. You side-eyed Hyunjin, waiting for his signal. He walked in first, walking straight. As you crossed the seemingly never-ending corridor, you couldn't help your eyes from wandering to the countless doors on each side of the corridor. The air was heavy, or maybe was it your steps which finally came to a halt when Hyunjin stopped in front of a giantic door. It was none like the others, adourned in brown and gold. The door was beautifully decorated, like in the many novels you read about arabian architecture, with all the arabesque and gems. But something, right in the center of the door, took pride of place. The head of a lion, which paws were clunched. Its mouth hang open showing countless teeth, through which a red gem could be seen. Whoever carved this majestic animal in the door was insanely talented. "Are you going to stare at the door for more time? Because last time I checked you came all this way to become part of the gang." The sickening sweet voice drew you out of your thoughts. You shook your head ever so slightly, finally looking at him, waiting for the moment he’d push the door. Surprisingly he bent forward until his breath caressed your right cheek in a way that would make anyone blush. "I am not going to do it for you, dear. Push the door or run away, but be quick." You could hear his smile growing at the end of his sentence, voice dripping with honey. You exhaled, trying to get back your composure. You sighed one more time - maybe you were standing before Death. But you decided to keep Her close the day you decided to get your Revenge. You worked too hard for cowarding away now. And at that, the door flew open, letting the inside of the room be seen. Two luxurious brown couch were face to face, a small glass table in the middle. Under it was a white rug, hiding for some centimeters the marble floor. To your left could be seen a vase adorned by pristine drawings. Beyond the apparent living room, an open kitchen could be seen. It was all white, from the tiles on the wall to the furniture, next to which was a door. A black one. Very simplist given the room it was in. On the right side of the giant room a staircase could be seen. As pristine as the other items in the room. Not so idiot, after all, you thought. Hyunjin put his hand on your right shoulder, envelopping you, though his arm didn't touch your left shoulder. "Someone's eyes are constantly astray, it seems. The person you're looking for is that way." He said, his demeanor never-changing. He led you to the black door, the one behind which your future would be sealed. You knew the second your eyes wandered on it, that beyound it took place the most macabre ambiance. You understood by now, that whatever doors you crossed were the doors to your future, and that Hyunjin would let you open them yourself. He didn't want to seal your future, you were foolish enough to do so yourself. And so did you. You opened the black entrance, standing in the threshold of what seemed a normal study. You scanned the room, eyes narrowing. Book shelves were on each side of the walls. In front of the door was a brown desk on which messy papers were scattered. Behind the study was a window, letting enter little to no amount of light. Seated behind the desk was the black haired man with which you would probably trade your life for your goal. He eyed you intensely before motioning you to sit on the chair in front of his desk. You slowly walked, not even paying attention to Hyunjin leaving the room behind you. You sat, now seeing the man from very close. The first thing you noticed was his eyes. They were glassy. Not in the sense of looking teary, no. Glassy like glass. Thick, white, void. Almost as if a veil was drawn before his pupils. He seemed so cold, so cruel. "So?" he said, his voice not as rough as you expected it to be. You found yourself wordless. How? You prepared for this moment for at least six months. You knew what you had to

say, yet you couldn't bring yourself to say these words now. Were they too cruel? But to whom exactly? "I have a goal. I came here to accomplish it." you managed to say , surprised at your voice which didn't betray any of your feelings. You mentally gave yourself a head pat. "Revenge, am I wrong?" You looked up to him, astonished. Your reaction amused him, and he chuckled softly. "Do you think you are the only person that ever crossed my door asking for revenge? Let me tell you something; every Stray Kids member first joined to get revenge. Even the leader himself." He smirked in an arrogant way. "If you want your revenge, prove me your worth. Let me allow it to you."

"I do not intend on telling you the story of my life." you said, harsher than you intended.

"Cold eyes, cold words, cold demeanor. I never expected you to narrate me your little story. I don't really care about it. I only need you to prove me with actions. You know what we say? Actions speak louder than words." He said, adding a wink at his last word. "But before you do anything, you'll receive a little training. Just so that you don't die." He leaned over, both elbows on the table and his head supporting his head. He starred at you for a little before shouting "Rhino". A boy with brown hair immediately appeared. The place was huge, how did he hear him and came so fast? You wondered. Was he ready all this time being? You eyed the man as he stood before you. His eyes were very pretty, and unlike the two other men, alive. His pupils were black, feathered with long eyelashes. His nose was long and sharp, and his upper lip was a bit bigger than his lower. He looked pretty, just like the two other men you met. His gaze fell on you and you found it hard to breathe. His eyes were surely alive, but they sent daggers through your whole being. He made it clear in one gaze that he was less than happy with your prensence.

"There's no going back, now" Said the man with glassy eyes.

The first steps you took were hesitant. You felt like being entirely swallowed up in the giant training room. Weapons were organized on shelves; guns, knives, and some wood-looking swords. You wondered why swords were present in the first place. On the ground were discarded thick rugs which you remembered using in high school. You didn’t notice your mouth was so wide open until the brown haired man next to you mentioned it. You looked at your feet, embarrassed. Now is not the time to be embarrassed! You thought. The man -Rhino, if you remembered it well- stepped first. He climbed up the rugs, heading towards the wooden swords.

“We’ll start with this. It’s convenient; you’ll learn how to many something else than a gun. Plus you won’t hurt yourself.” The first words he spoke to you were void of any feelings, just like his eyes were. But it didn’t matter; you weren’t here for acquaintances but to get to your goal. You stepped on the rugs as well, taking one of the wooden weapon he lent you. It was surprisingly heavier than it seemed. And so was his gaze. He was judging you, evaluating you through your very movements. It made you nervous to the point you wondered if he could read in your breath. “Revenge” he said, “did a relative got murdered by a gang?” You stiffened. How could someone be so insensitive? You chose to hold his gaze, frowning. Well, if he can read you so well, he should be able to read your anger. “It has nothing to do with you. You are supposed to train me, not talk to me.” You spat, venom dripping from your words. If he didn’t mind hurting others, he might as well not mind being hurt himself.

The right part of his upper lip lifted in what you supposed would be the closer of a smile you’ll ever see on him. “Sure. Be it. But then don’t expect me to tell you your wrongdoings. Find out by yourself.” His tone had nothing to do with the so called smile. He was mad. Mad at you. “So big boy likes to hurt others but can’t stand a simple remark? Is the poor boy hurt?” You feigned concern as you leaned closer to his heart, pretending to listen to his heartbeats. In a second, your back encountered the rug in a way that would sure bruise you. When you opened your eyes, a growl escaping your lips, he was right on top of you, his eyebrows closer than possible. His face was mere centimeters away, his breath fanning your own. Now that he was so close, you could see his eyes well. They weren’t black, they were dark brown, with some yellow and red tint here and there. “You surely like to talk back. In a real fight, you’d already be dead. Talk less, act more.” He said before standing up, straightening his white shirt in the process. You were speechless. All this time you thought you were at least good at fighting. You stood up yourself, your back hurting more than it should have. Damn it, you mentally cursed.

Rhino looked at you over his shoulder “get up, we have a long way to go.”

Weeks passed and the least you could say was that you significantly improved. You also noticed a slight change in Rhino’s demeanor. He would from times to times bring water bottles, and sometimes would even patch the handle of the sword you were used to many. You figured out it was his way of caring. Through very small things. And it was fine by you. Even if the only words you would exchange with him were about work. He even taught you a handful of laws, such as always protecting the leader, not doing anything that would put the whole gang in danger, sacrificing yourself for the well-being of the gang… all these rules you couldn’t care less about. For you would not give up on your life and your goal for a bunch of men you did not even know. It had been weeks, yet the only persons you ever encountered where Hyunjin and Rhino. You wondered where the others were. But it didn’t matter, you had to get ready to the day of the test. The rest was a mere concern for you.

Resting on the small bed of the room you were assigned to, you mentally replayed your last training session with Rhino. The way he held his gun, the way he effortlessly never missed any target. You wanted to be as good as him. No. You wanted to be better. A knock on your door drew you out of your thoughts. You opened it, revealing the brown-haired man you were so accustomed to. “Chan told me to inform you; tomorrow you are going on a mission with us. It’s as simple as handling a drug deal. There’s really not much to do, but have this.” He put in your hands a bulletproof vest. “Am I allowed to…” “As long as he doesn’t find out it’s fine. Wear it under your clothes. Wouldn’t it be a shame if you died before you’d even join?” He cut you off. You frowned. Why would Chan ask you to come help in a mission when you didn’t have enough training? Why would Rhino give you a bulletproof vest? It just didn’t make sense. You politely thanked him, sending him away. You slumped back on your bed, eyes fixed on the white ceiling. They really thought you were dumb. Soon enough, you were going to pass the test you prepared hard for. The exam they disguised as a mission. You thought about it for a long time. It was most likely they would test you on your loyalty, ability to apply the rules Rhino taught you and on the way you can use weapons. You clenched you fists, sitting on the edge of the bed. Whatever it would cost, you were going to pass the test. Not because you wanted to be part of Stray Kids, but because you needed to. It was your only way to get to your revenge. And your revenge was your it. It came before anyone’s life. Including your own.