#i dont want that. I want a dark underground room where I can be left alone

[anglerflsh]

everytime I mention the type of job I'd like to have (archivist) people tell me that literally no one on earth wants to do that which normally would be annoying but. you don't want to sort documents? to preserve things from the past? do you not like excel sheets and burocracies? my best friend burocracy?? sad

[legacyshenanigans]

Could we maybe possibly get a lil Drabble/HC type post of Volo’s death magic in action 👀

YESSSSS! I was thinking about doing one anyway girl! I adore that you always slide into the DMs asking for it though 😩💚

Marvolo using Necromancy magic🐍

Rowan: I erm..Found the guy you wanted me to track down..

Marvolo: Excellent..Where is he?

Rowan: In the basement...

Marvolo makes his way down there, with Rowan following closely. He walks in, seeing a decomposing corpse on the table..

Marvolo: *sigh* Oh for goodness sake...

Rowan: ...Yeah.

Marvolo: *inspecting the body* Urgh...Rotten..

Rowan: I mean, I didn't know if ya woulda wanted me to bring it here or not, but I did anyway.

Marvolo: I'm glad you did. Vile as it is. It's at least a week, maybe 2 weeks dead.. Worry not *rubs his hands together* Anything can be made to talk.

Rowan: (??)

Marvolo reaches his hand out, hovering it over the putrid corpse. He takes in a large inhale through his nose and closes his eyes. He mutters to himself, and the room suddenly feels cold and falls silent. Rowan looks around, feeling the dark effect taking over the room. Marvolos eyes snap open, glowing green, the corpse sits bolt right up on the table, taking in a harsh pained breath. Marvolo smirks to himself, his hand still aimed in concentration towards the body. The corpses' voice is the thing of nightmares, the agony in its words, you can almost hear the gargle of the congealed blood in its throat.

Corpse: P-Pleeeease. HUu-urts-

Marvolo: Shhhh, answer my questions, and you shall rest..

The Corpse tries to nod, thick slime dribbling from its mouth as its head falls forward then back up once more.

Marvolo: How did you die?

Corpse: Old gang. K-Killed meeee.

Marvolo: Why?

Corpse: Left. G-Gang. Boss couldn't. Aaargh- C-Couldn't risk me talkin' Nnngh! S-Sent g-goons..After meeeee-

Rowan: Heh..Clearly didn't expect THIS, did he?

Marvolo: I know of your boss *frowns* I've been struggling to find his fucking hideout..Tell me! Where is it!?

Corpse: N-Nooo P-Pleeeease..STooop this..Pain!

Marvolo: SPEAK.

Corpse: F-Forbidden Forest... Underground...Passage..Near..O-Old willow tree...Other side of...ARRRHH...Lake!...*coughs up dark blood* Hidden...With magic...

Marvolo: *narrows his eyes* illusion magic?

Corpse: YES!...P-Pleeeeease!!!!

Marvolo: ....Rest.

Marvolo closes his eyes once more, dropping his hand away from the corpse. The body falls flat back on the table, lifeless once more. Marvolo stumbles over to a chair in the room, slumping down onto it. He shivers slightly, letting out an exasperated breath.

Rowan: (?!) *rushes over to him* Are you ok? *goes to touch his arm*

Marvolo: DONT TOUCH ME!

Rowan: (?!?!?)

Marvolo: *sighs* I'm sorry.. That takes a lot of energy out of me..Sends my head a little messy *heavy breath as he composes himself* Especially when they fucking fight it.

Rowan: That was crazy..I've never seen ya do that..

Marvolo: Its not something I use often..Anyway..The hideout, hidden by illusion magic. That's no bother..An easy thing to seek out and remove once you know its there. We'll go later..

Rowan: *nods* Yeah.. 'Course.. I'm with ya..

~

[miniscrew-anon]

A Dark and Shadowy Night

I love these two. They’re both so hecking scrimblo

——

hey u know how u owe me for being supr nice to you n stuff?

Dark sighs through his nose at the text that he reads with just a tilt of his head. He’s lounging on the couch, sprawled out and boneless with his phone laying next to his head. Still warm and loose from his latest dive into a certain cowboys onlyfans account. He lazily flops a hand around to unlock it and text back with one hand, expending the least amount of energy possible. He pokes at the screen with one finger while his other hand is buried in Waffles soft fur.

i dont owe you shit and youve never been nice to anyone in your life

Dark drops his hand and reaches for Chicken, who bats at him for trying to pet her but then bites his hand to beg for pets when he retreats. He baps her head lightly. She swipes at him again. He reaches for her and narrowly avoids her smack. Then she freezes, ears twitching. Her eyes go huge at something behind him. She jumps off his chest and zooms into the other room.

Dark peeks over his shoulder to make sure there’s nothing there.

“Stop seeing shit I can’t see. You’re makin’ me paranoid.” He grouses at the little cat. He goes back to petting Waffles, who is far more receptive to Dark’s strong fingers working at his nape and back. Happy vibrations from the mound of fur on his chest assure Dark that his pets are, in fact, very good and that Chicken is just ungrateful.

Dark lets his phone vibrate a few more times before picking it back up to check out what Shadow needs.

o good ur around

haha well actually im super nice and cool and youd miss me if i were dead

btw unrelated to me being dead meet me at the 5th st warehouse and bring your worktools

i need your expertise

"Shit.”

Dark looks down at the cat sleeping on him.

“Shit.”

Dark mouths an apology at his cat after he sits up to grab his shoes. The utterly betrayed look he gets has him cursing aloud.

"Take it up with the vampire," Dark says, stuffing his worktools into the back of his jeans and shrugging on his heavy leather jacket, "I'll have him buy you a fish dinner, okay?"

Waffles just turns away and saunters after his sister, tail curling in displeasure.

Dark groans. “You had better be dying, asshole.”

The drive to the warehouse in the bad part of town only takes Dark a few minutes. On the ride there he can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket. When he gets close, a block away, he kills the engine to jog down the block on foot and flicks through his texts.

parkings bad. no places in front. might have to walk a bit.

be sure to tip the doorman btw. otherwise he'll complain to mgmt

everyone inside is an employee so just introduce urself

A large man stands outside the front entrance. He's got a cigarette in hand but he's not relaxing for a smoke break. He's got a keen eye on his surroundings and one of his hands in his pocket.

Dark approaches from his right where a few black SUVs (really? So cliche) are parked and takes advantage of his blind spot. When the man goes for another drag, Dark darts out and gets him in a chokehold. Dark bodily slams the man into the brick when the guy pulls out his gun. The pistol clatters to the floor, followed shortly by the man's unconscious body.

Dark drags him behind one of the cars and lets himself into the building quietly.

The place looks like it used to be industrial. But whoever owns it left it to decay. Broken down, rusted machinery creates shadows and blind spots everywhere. No one has turned on the lights. Either because they don't want to attract any attention or because the electrical wiring has decayed away. Either way it suits Dark just fine.

It's easy to tell that the ten or so men walking the factory with flashlights are not any type of law enforcement. From their cheesy cheap suits to their non-standard issue handguns, these guys reek of underground business. And from the way they all have their fingers on the trigger, Dark can assume they're not looking to take anyone alive. They’re searching the building top to bottom, but there’s no organization to their search pattern. They’re just searching independently, going over places the others already have and missing large swaths of ground.

The typical tough guys with guns and a desire to kill that underground business men love to hire to take care of their more sordid tasks.

Not even close to a challenge.

It only takes Dark a total of nine minutes to put every man to sleep. They’re got numbers but they’re cheap labor with no training. Dark wouldn’t be surprised if more than half of them have never even been in a fight with how easily they go down. They’ve probably managed to coast on their size and intimidation factor their whole lives. Too bad for them Dark doesn’t intimidate easily.

He creeps around in the dark, stalking them like a tiger does a pack of unknowing gazelle. One by one he strikes silently. Dropping bodies and dragging them into the darkness. The others carry on, unaware of the apex predator among them.

The last man - a thinner guy with a pencil-thin mustache and a custom gun that looks like it would blow his skinny arm out of its socket if he ever actually tried to fire it - only notices the other lights have gone out when his is the only one left.

And by then it’s far too late to stop the figure behind him from striking.

As Dark is choking out the last of them a shadow shifts and melts out of the darkness into a human shape to his right. He doesn’t look up until the body in his arms is limp.

"I guess they just don't make hired hands like they used to, huh?"

Dark's smile is half a sneer. "I was much more than just a big guy with a big gun. And I worked for much bigger fish."

He drops the last body and dusts off his hands nonchalantly. "So. Who'd you piss off?"

"No one you'd know." Shadow brushes some rust from his shoulder. Wherever he’d been hiding must have been disgusting because he’s covered in grime. He's dressed head to toe in gray so dark it looks black. Hood up, scarf over his mouth, and dark tinted glasses on his face. The only way Dark knows it's Shadow is from his blaise attitude and smug voice. He’s not visibly carrying anything, but anything valuable enough to kill over is usually small enough to fit in a pocket.

Dark doesn’t bother asking more questions. Shadow won’t give him a straight answer and Dark genuinely doesn’t care. The less he knows the better, probably.

Shadow nudges one of the bodies curiously. “They dead?”

“No. Should they be?” Dark doesn’t particularly want to kill these guys. Their inexperience is probably a sign these guys are just some regular joes off the street. Ex-cons or guys no one else will hire. Crooked, sure, but not evil. It’d be a shame to have to kill them just for being in the wrong profession. But if they saw something they shouldn’t have…

But Shadow just shakes his head. “Nah. They’re just small potatoes. Well, except this guy.”

Shadow nudges the body at their feet and bends to go through the man's pockets. Dark watches silently. He cocks a brow when Shadow unlocks the stolen phone with a limp thumb and starts flicking through it, screen reflecting off his shades. He pulls out his own phone and takes some pictures of the other screen. Then he sends a text with the stolen phone and slips it back in the man's breast pocket. He pats the man condescendingly.

“Okay!” Shadow pops up and stretches like a satisfied cat, “I’m done! We can leave now.”

“Oh, can we now?” Dark rolls his eyes and turns to the exit. “Oh goodie.”

“Wow, rude.” Shadow pads after him as they make their way down a rickety catwalk to the ground floor. “Who pissed in your cereal?”

“The brat who thinks I can just drop everything to come to his rescue. I was in the middle of something important.” Dark grumbles.

Shadow manages to give the impression of a flat look through his full face disguise. “Scrolling through your boyfriends onlyfans and petting your cats really counts as important to you?”

Dark pauses with his hand on the rusted backdoor. Gives the smaller man a critical look.

Shadow holds his hands up innocently. “I don’t have any cameras in your place. You’re just predictable.”

“Whatever.” Dark brushes him off. He pushes the door open and glances around to make sure the doorman was still out before stepping fully outside. Shadow follows him with a bounce in his step. Dark isn’t sure if it’s from finishing a job or just an adrenaline rush from what must have been a close call.

The walk down the block to his bike only takes a minute. By the time they get there and Dark confirms that no one stole his helmet, Shadow has shed the outerwear and looks like a normal guy in a hoodie rather than a very conspicuous thief. Dark strides up to his bike and swings up on it, grabbing his helmet before Shadow can get his paws on it. “So, do I get a cut?”

His smaller companion pauses in his attempts to snatch the helmet. He tilts his head. One of his ears twitches. “A cut?”

“Yeah, a cut. Isn’t that usually how it’s done in your line of work?” Dark smiles at him. “Work for pay, right? Well, I did the work. Now pay me, asshole.”

For what he had to do to poor Waffles, he deserves a cut, dammit.

But instead of the thankfulness and grace a hero usually gets when saving a damsel in distress, Dark just gets laughed at.

“What do you think this is, a fucking diner?” Shadow, the asshole, wipes away tears as he straightens up, “First rule of our line of business - establish payment before services rendered. With a 50% deposit and remaining balance owed upon completion. No contract, no pay.”

Shadow smiles cheekily as he pats Dark on the shoulder. “So sorry, but no. But you can consider the economics lesson as compensation if it makes you feel better.”

Dark stares at him for a long moment. Then he puts on his helmet and ignites his engine. “Have fun getting shot next time, dickhead.”

Shadows cackling is drowned out by Dark revving his engine to turn out of the alley, left to walk home.

—--

(The next morning Dark almost slips on the thick envelope that was shoved through his mailslot sometime during the night. He smiles privately at the generous amount of bills and drops it on his kitchen counter, sipping his cheap instant coffee with glee.)

(Which he immediately loses when he has to gracelessly dive over the counter to save his earnings from two hungry cats.)

———

Yes I will mention the onlyfans thing at each and every opportunity that presents itself and no you cannot stop me

I like these two. I enjoy their dynamic that’s uniquely them and no one else. I like that they can be as skrunkly with each other as they want to be and there’s no judgement. Like yeah they break the law and both of them are fine with that, as long as they don’t get caught lol

And I really gotta stop being so lazy with posting on ao3 tho this is really too long to just leave as a tumblr post

[oldworldwidgets]

ive got two things to address and a lot of words to do it with so here goes. first point: @simicmimic

i would love to explain!! :] keep in mind that im putting aside the fact that the puzzle kinda has to be a little easy from a gameplay perspective so players dont get frustrated and give up

unbeknownst to people who employ it, #5 is less of a criticism of the railroad and more of a testament to it.

when the sole survivor comes across the railroad, the org is at the absolute end of its rope (similar to the minutemen, almost). their main base of operations had very recently been completely leveled, numbers decimated, and they'd had to fall into old north, a far inferior but well hidden (and comfortably underground) safehouse. we dont know exactly why they chose to hole up there - could be that it was their only option, or they needed a temporary place to harbor synths before shipment out of the commonwealth, or they were looking for a hideout that would be easy to burn when they found a better one, etc etc - but we do know that, after switchboard, they lost contact with a lot of their other agents/safehouses + it seemed like every day a new safehouse went dark.

the simplicity of their messaging surrounding the freedom trail is a communication device. it's a simple, effective way to reach out to agents they lost contact with after switchboard to find and reconnect with them. but beyond that, it's a recruitment technique. it's a puzzle that was designed to be solved. they're desperate for new, competent members who can interpret symbols and follow clues to reach a conclusion. "railroad" isnt the password to HQ, it's the password to the empty, doorless room outside their HQ where armed agents have been waiting for you since you started wandering down the trail + have been watching your every move since you left the vault. des even says, "anyone that wants to meet us is under surveillance as soon as they follow the freedom trail. if you were a threat to our organization, all you'd find here is an empty room."

i will admit that using the name of your organization as the password is a little unoriginal, but it's not like they live in an era like the 21st century where everyone is (more or less) educated on internet unguessable username and password etiquette. plus, the only way the ss can learn that this synth-freeing org is even called the railroad is through their recruitment holotapes or wasteland word of mouth, so the chances are very slim that a rando who wanders into the church could just guess the password, regardless of how simple it is.

next point: @twosides--samecoin

the discussion regarding the slave allegory is an incredibly important one to be had for sure, it's just not mine to initiate. it has been covered extensively by black members of the fandom (as evidenced by the great post you linked that ive seen circulate a few times) and truly i have nothing to add and won't speak over them to do so. more importantly, though: im not sidestepping it because it isnt important, i left it out on purpose because it's... kinda irrelevant to the point i was making in this post specifically.

the poorly-thought-out slavery allegory on the part of bethesda has nothing to do with the competence or effectiveness of the railroad in the game. narratively, the railroad could be The Perfect Faction but the cobbled-together comparison to slavery would still be a valid criticism because it exists in the real world. this post was really only intended to cover the in-game narrative flaws of the org, not the bad writing that went into its creation. i hope that makes sense :]

look, in all my time on fo4 tumblr and on the fo4 subreddit where hatred runs rampant, ive still only seen two valid criticisms of the railroad as a faction. ever.

(im putting aside the whole entire slavery allegory for the purposes of this post)

these two criticisms are:

if you (yes, you. the player) fundamentally disagree with the notion that synths are sentient people, the organization makes no sense and is useless. i cant change your bedrock beliefs on what constitutes a person, so this criticism stands

the mind wipes might border on unethical. the idea is good and well-intentioned, but it kinda sucks in practice. synths can choose not to have the procedure, but the railroad's catastrophizing about what will happen if they dont feels coercive sometimes. i could probably be convinced otherwise, but i think this is a pretty good point

thats it. there are no more. im absolutely open to (and would love, actually) yall trying to change my mind but just know that if your criticisms are:

they're short-sighted; the organization will eventually dissolve because there will be no more synths left to help

they have no plan nor reason to help synths post-institute; the moment the institute explodes, so does the railroad

they're too narrow-minded; they should be helping people too, not just synths

by destroying the institute, they're stopping the production of synths; this nullifies their efforts in saving synths and is even, dare i say, hypocritical

their password being railroad is far too simple and the freedom trail is too easy to follow; theyre just asking for another switchboard

[insert member of the railroad, usually desdemona] is mean; the organization is full of assholes

then ur efforts will be wasted on me. all of these criticisms are bad <3

[bloodycassian]

Reader x Cassian - Hellish Prompt: Reader is an assassin/spy that was caught and azriel has spent months torturing her for information and can’t get anything out of her and cassian eventually goes to see who this assassin/spy is and the mating bond snaps and cassian beats the $hitt out of az bc of the mating bond instincts and rhys has to intervene and break up the fight (i was thinking this could switch between azriel’s POV at the start and then switch to cassian's POV)

AN- this was SO fun to make. Please more requests like this!! I love the idea of unexpected mates!

TW -blood/ blades.  

Drip, drip, drip. Copper smell filled the small room. Blood leaked down the drain in the floor. You wheezed a laugh bitterly and spat on the ground at his feet. Azriel's rage simmered calmly under his dark shadows. They coiled, ready to strike. Wanting to strike. The sound of your feeble laughs was practically the only sound Azriel had gotten from you for the first week of torture.  The second week was worse, even for him. Truth teller revealed nothing when he gouged into your skin from the bottom up. Truthfully, he was impressed beyond measure. But that didnt mean that he could stop the job at hand. He had to know, and wished he didnt have to do this kind of thing to get the information from you. "Listen..." He sighed, cleaning his blade. He was always nervous whenever he had a back turned to an enemy, no matter how well they were restrained. But he trusted his shadows enough to tell him if something was wrong.  "If you just.. Cooperate and tell me where the Queens are, we can let you go. No trouble, just releasing you back to Rask." He tried to keep his tone neutral, but he was nearing an exhaustion point. Torture every day for two weeks had its toll not only on the victim, but the dealer as well. His shadows seemed to be growing restless too, waiting for a chance to strike.  He watched your reaction from the corner of his eye. Noted the way your head hanging loosely seemed to gain a bit more strength before you spoke. "Losing your touch, Spymaster?" You revealed a row of bloody teeth to him, and grunted when the chains at your wrists stung the magic that weakly attempted to help you.  Azriel could have sighed. He could have laughed and bled you dry. Have a healer come and patch you up enough to keep you alive. The idea was tempting, but he didn't like having anyone besides his brothers see him in this mode of darkness. He could have brought Rhys down to attempt to break into your mind again. After the first attempt and Rhys' reaction to being blocked, he wasn't eager for that again. So he sighed, and brought out the potions laced with Faebane.  + He was convinced you weren't a normal Fae. After months of his best torture methods he was a wreck. "She just-" He tried to hide his frustration, but his brothers knew him best. Cassian smirked by the fire, warming his wings. Rhys seemed a bit more concerned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Azriel had never been one to spend a long time on torture. Rhys saw the frustration flowing from him after every session with the stubborn Fae in the dungeon cell.  "I dont know what to do anymore. She's the only one to have never broken." He ran a hand though his hair. His shadows seemed weak, exhausted like him.  Rhys considered for a moment, looking between his two brothers. Cassian seemed to be enjoying Azriel's frustration. Maybe a bit too much. Rhys sipped his wine then, with a look of innocence, "Maybe we will have Cassian end it. Perhaps seeing the Lord of Death in front of her will knock something loose."  Cassian's stare whipped to him, a silent plea on his face. "We should leave it to our expert Rhys-" Azriel laughed, cold and bitter. "The expert hasn't got a damn thing out of her. We either kill her or send her back to Rask with all the information she's collected about us. With nothing in return." Shame lined his features. The sense of failure to his high lord was a heavy weight to bear. "Cas...I expect you down there tomorrow afternoon. It will be her last chance." Rhys' no nonsense tone shut down Cassian's retort. His jaw locked with distaste. He hated the cramped cells below the house of wind. Hated the way going underground made his wings feel like they needed to stretch. The worst was when that stale air was laced with the rotting smell of dead mice or old blood. It made his skin crawl just thinking about it.  "Come on Cas, dont you want to see the only one that's outlasted me?" Az asked with a mock grin. He couldn't give the same smile back. Turmoil spilled inside him at the thought of going so far below the mountain.  + Cassian took a long time to go to bed that night. His restlessness about the next day made him wake up over and over, never having more than an hour of peace before being waken up.  Azriel held up a mug of tea to him the next morning. "You look like shit." He handed his brother the mug with a small smile. Cassian glared at him, but took it anyway. He went to the balcony, his heavy wings needing to feel the fresh air. It was like taking a bath after being covered in grime. He sighed in relief, letting the late morning sun graze his body. The cold wind from Illyria was beginning to come in for the winter, and the familiar smell ignited something in him. He felt a draw, but shoved it to the back of his mind. He knew what he had to be this day. "Why the hell do we have to keep them so far down again?" Cassian complained. Around and around and around. Down deeper and deeper into the pit of the mountain that the house above was carved out of. Cassian felt like his lungs were collapsing the further they went. He tried not to let his nerves show, but he knew Az's shadows would pick up on it anyway.  "Remember when you broke your arm chasing down that Attor?" Azriel could have laughed at that memory, but the story surrounding it made the experience soured. More shame on top of the guilt already there.  Cassian hummed in approval, welcoming the distraction the memory brought. He tried not to focus on how each turn of the staircase got darker and darker. How the air seemed to compress around him. He locked his eyes on the scar on one of Az's wings. "And we spent a week fixing the top story of that apothecary?" He asked, keeping his voice steady.  "Yes. Dont you remember how the Attor got out?" Cassian shook his head, and Azriel huffed a laugh. "I left the door open for just a second to get a new knife and..." He shook his head, part in anger and regret, part in shame. "It had escaped before I turned around. I dont know how it happened, to this day."  Cassian stared at the back of the shadowmaster's head. The dark ripples around him seemed to spike. "It happens Az, you can't be perfect."  "It's not perfection, its basic thought. After that we moved all enemies to the lower dungeons. No matter the threat. Rhys even put wards on the arches." He ran a hand over the walls, his fingers catching a few of the grooves that linked each spelled archway to the other.  Cassian left the conversation at that. At least his brother wasn't brooding as much as before. The dim lights began to come into view, and his heart began hammering. Adrenaline singing through his veins. His polished siphons glowed, reflecting red off the dark stone ceiling. He had polished all his black armor the night before, when he couldn't sleep. Something poked, prodded at him all night. Keeping him awake. He figured he may as well make use out of it.  "She's not going to talk to you unless you show..weakness first." Azriel said in a low voice. Cassian nodded, reaching the end of the stairwell with him.  Cassian couldn't see the dark figure in the cell, but he felt the presence nonetheless. The dark draw that you demanded. He wondered how Azriel had dealt with that pull this whole time. The tantalizing draw to you. He shook his head, pushed the hair out of his face and nodded to Azriel.  He opened the door, then began his ritual. At the start of every session he would toss a bucket of water over your body, then a bucket of salt. It made the wounds that handn't healed fully scream in pain. You jolted at the suddenness of it this time. "Good morning, shadowsinger." You ground out, voice rough with strain. Cassian watched in awe at his brother.  Cassian was never one for torture. There was a reason Azriel was appointed to this position. Watching the calm cruelness of him was jarring, but Cassian kept his face straight. He stood behind you, watching the flimsy attempts to pull at the shackles holding your arms up. Lacerations dotted each arm, some light pink scars. Some were still scabbing over. A chill ran down his spine.  "You have a guest today, would you like to see him?" Azriel's voice was cool, calm. Like he was speaking orders to a group of soldiers. He began slicing new lines into your arms, moving up to your neck. He had left your ears in tact, as a last resort if you refused to speak to Cassian. The pull Cassian felt was overwhelming. He walked a bit too quickly around you, plastered on a wicked smile for show, then crouched down. The smile faded when he finally saw your face. Your dripping hair was a horror on its own. Plastered to the skeletal cheekbones, and pale eyes. Those eyes were brighter than anything he'd ever seen. A field of flowers down the slope of Illyrian mountains. His world shifted, drawing the breath from him. "Mine." His mind seemed to roar with that alone, but in a thousand different variations. "Lover, friend, partner, mine mine mine. Mate. My mate." His lips quivered with the realization. With the way his heart soared, and the way he moved without realizing it. He choked a gasp, and fell forward on his knees before you. He saw the same astonishment in your reaction. Azriel dropped his sword, confusion and concern alert on his features. "Cas wh-" Before he could finish, before his shadows could detect that Cassian had even moved, his brother was on top of him. Cassian's knuckles stung with every punch. A new kind of rage flared inside him. It made his muscles yearn for violence. Made his teeth crave the flesh of those that so much as looked at you wrong. There was no mercy for Azriel, it was as if he was an enemy on the battlefield. Cassian held nothing back. You hung limply from the chains that bound you. Crunch after crunch sounded from Azriel. He eventually managed to push Cassian off of him. Then they locked together in battle again. Clashes of armor against armor were deafening. The snarls they ripped at each other were loud enough to make you cringe. Your heart squeezed at the sounds of Cassian's breath. At the scent of blood spilling. You pulled feebly at the chains, your mind roaring to protect him.  Your mate. You tried to watch the battle, but the weakness in your body refused to let you turn more than a few inches. They were panting, Cassian fighting with a ferocity Azriel had never seen. His eyes flared with rage, like he was possessed. "Cas-" Azriel grunted, shoving his brother backwards. His back hit yours, pushing you down and digging those stone cuffs into your wrists. You hissed in pain. Cassian roared and lunged at his brother again, and again.  The darkness that boomed outside the cell was jarring. The stone ceiling shuddered, small rocks and dirt falling from it. Cassian did not stop. He didn't hesitate, coming at Azriel with punch after punch. His fist crushed the wall behind where Az's head had been. 

"Enough." The high lord's cool command was enough to make you still your weak attempts at looking at the two. Cassian's chest heaved as he tried lifting his arm to punch Az again. Pure fury in his heart was enough to make him disobey Rhysand's order.

  Then Rhys' talons gripped him. Freezing his mind, stilling him. Rhys' face shifted to surprise at what he glimpsed at there. "Oh.." He breathed. Azriel panted, backing away from his brother, out of the cell. He locked the cell and wiped the blood from himself, his wings hanging limply behind him. "What- the hell." He panted, nursing his arm. Cassian's eyes locked to your small frame. How your muscles quivered, how your arms shook with the effort of holding yourself up. He felt Rhys' claws recede slowly from his mind, releasing each part of him one by one. He rushed to you.  He picked up Azriel's sword and with a clean, masterful swipe, broke the enchanted stone that bound you. The weak sigh that came from you was heartbreaking. His eyes pricked with tears, and he caught you before you could fall to the floor into the puddle of dried blood. He didnt notice, or care that it was there. He sat there with you, cradled you and shook with you. 

"Cassian... She's.. Cassian's mate." Rhys said slowly, astonished. He didn't take his eyes from his brother in the cell. Azriel froze in place. For a moment, the dungeon was completely still. Totally silent, as if the world waited for what was to come next.

Azriel turned on a heel and left, trudging up the stairs. Rhys dared not touch his mind. "Cassian...." He spoke, trying to get his brother's attention. He did not glance at Rhys, just curled around your body more. Protecting, nesting almost. Rhys knew the feeling too well from the weeks after he and Feyre's bond snapped into place.  "We will check in tomorrow. Be safe, brother." Rhys spoke to Cassian's mind. It was nothing but an ocean of rushing thoughts. Cassian could have bared his teeth, could have tried to fight his brother through the bars of the cell. Hell, he could have probably broken through those bars with the primal strength flowing through him with the rush from the bond. 

But he didn't. He stayed, his warm body pressed against yours. Those siphons glowing against your skin like a fire. He stroked your hair soothingly, his tears like rainfall on your body, through your bloodstained clothes. He didn't remember falling asleep there, but it was the most restful, peaceful night he'd ever had in his existence. 

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (3)

Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader

genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol

Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!

wordcount: 2.2k

taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine

a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as i’ve never published my writing before so thank u sm ♡ i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where it’d go or anything but i’m happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, i’ve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying “cherish your life” since that’s pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D ps— taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!

series masterlist

part one part two

The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on it’s cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read “play me” and when the subjects did, a chilling voice— one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terror— would echo around the room.

Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasn’t responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panic— they did not want to live in fear.

It was the only face behind the killings.

But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.

“How are you scared of heights? You’re practically a giant yourself!”

“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can’t be scared of heights Y/Nie.”

You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think you’d known eachother since childhood— the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.

You’d only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadn’t seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.

“I just wouldn’t imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung… you seem so confident and fearless.”

You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.

“I did have my fears back then, much like yours.”

“What do you mean?” you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.

A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, “The fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldn’t let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, I’d pretended that I’d gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didn’t take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.” Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say… obsessive. “I just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I don’t remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.”

Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one he’d actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his father’s body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.

You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.” There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.

“You don’t need to be sorry baby, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.” A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, “I wasn’t successful with my attempt so now I’m here to help you.”

Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.

You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.

It was nearing the evening when Taehyung’s car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.

For the first time in forever, you looked alive.

Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyung’s attention, “Sorry to interrupt guys. We’ve finished with your car so whenever you’re ready we’ll be outside.” The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.

“Thanks man! I’ll be like, five minutes.”

Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.

You’d taken Tae’s hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked ‘thirty seven’ on his palm. “What does this mean?”

Taehyung didn’t think twice before he practically beamed out, “It’s my lucky number.”

The difference was, it wasn’t really his lucky number… although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain type— those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.

You see, things aren’t sequential. Good doesn’t lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, don’t get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.

Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.

He’d started this with one thing on his mind— those that don’t appreciate life do not deserve it.

Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named ‘Jigsaw’.

This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.

It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.

The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.

After all, until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.

They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.

A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.

A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.

Billy.

Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, “Help! Please, somebody help! I shouldn’t be here!”

A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, “Trust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. You’d just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.”

With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” The man's footsteps grew louder. “I’m here to serve justice, that’s all.”

The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicately—like he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.

“You fucking psycho! Let me go!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.

“I’d be very careful if I was you, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now… would we?” The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.

“What the fuck, you’re fucking crazy. Let me out, this isn’t right!” The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man who’d imprisoned them.

“I think you’ll find it is right. You’re unworthy of the body you possess.” He inched closer, “see, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The man arched a brow as he replied, “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. “But, let me remind you! Since you can’t get your thick fucking head to work. You’re a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?”

The subject's face dropped.

“Ah, I see by your expression you know exactly what I’m talking about! Glad to see we’re on the same page.” He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. “I want to play a game.”

“What game? This isn’t a fucking game! You’re sick in the head you fucking cunt!”

The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.

“What is this? What fucking game?”

“You feel the machine that’s currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes that’s going to rip you apart. I’m proud to say that trap is my baby. I’ve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?” he reached out to tug at the subject’s legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. “Anyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,” the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, “is going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.”

“Fuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!”

A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subject’s leg. “This is a special game.”

“Who are you? What do you mean by ‘special game’?”

He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, “I’m the man you call Jigsaw.” He traced the tip of the knife along the subject’s ankle, “and when I say a special game… I mean you can’t get out.” While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subject’s achilles.

A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldn’t string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, “That’s for Y/N.”

Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subject’s tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, “Game over!”

Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.

Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.

He’d chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, he’d done you a favour.

That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?

[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???👀]

[electricbarnes]

time is not on our side 

steve rogers x reader 

summary: ever since steve went against the sokovia accords, he’s been on the run. but he still takes time to see you, even if it’s only for a night. 

↳ songs i listened to for inspiration

wc: 2.8k | warnings: pretty fluffy i would say, but its got a little angst, implied smut 

note: it’s missing steve hrs

Nat: Don’t be gone too long.

Steve reads the text on the small screen of his flip phone, but he doesn’t bother to reply back. He shoves the phone back into his pocket as he turns into a dark alleyway. He glances behind him, making sure no one is watching him. The streets are fairly empty considering the late hour.

Steve carefully climbs his way up one of the fire escapes. The creaking of the old metal echoes through the empty alley. He goes up to the third floor and slides open an unlocked window. Steve ducks inside the dark apartment that’s only dimly lit by the street lights outside. His eyes do a quick scan of the room, looking for any possible dangers.  

He closes the window and flips the latch, making sure it’s locked this time. Just as he turns around, the hallway light turns on, revealing your silhouette. You clearly just woke up, judging by the flyaways of your hair and the old tee shirt you usually wear to bed. You squint your eyes into the darkness and they widen at the sight of the man standing in your living room.

“Steve?”

A gasp escapes your lips and you practically throw yourself on him, but Steve easily catches you. Your arms wrap around his neck while his automatically circles around your waist, pulling you in close. He ignores the pain from the bruise on his ribs, focusing on the feeling of having you in his arms again instead. The tension leaves his body as he melts into your embrace. His senses filled with the familiar sweet scent of your lotion.

Your soft clean skin contrasts the dirt and grime that covers him and his tattered suit. Though, you don’t seem to mind. He knows he should’ve cleaned up before he got here, but his time is limited and he wanted as much time with you as possible.

You pull back from him after a moment to get a good look at his face. Steve sees your smile morph into a frown and your eyebrows scrunch together. Your hand goes to his forehead, fingers carefully tracing the cut above his eyebrow. He forgot about the small injury.

Though he hates seeing you upset, Steve can’t help the small smile that appears on his face. He leans in, placing a kiss between your furrowed brows. He whispers an “I’m okay,” to ease your worries. It seems to work because your adoring smile returns.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you say quietly, as if this were a dream that would end at any moment. It makes him wonder if you have dreams about him like he has of you. He knows all too well that feeling of disappointment when he wakes up alone, wishing the dream had lasted a little longer.

“I’m here,” he affirms, squeezing your hips as a confirmation that this was real. He seals it with a kiss that you immediately fall into. Your hand combs through his, now longer, hair as the kiss deepens. Before it could go any further, you pull away from him. Steve chases your lips for one more kiss, earning a giggle from you. He’s missed that adorable laugh of yours.

Your hand brushes over his beard. He had forgotten about that too. His look has changed a lot since the last time he’s seen you. Being a wanted criminal meant that he could skip the shaving in order to hide his face more. He’s far from the golden boy image that he was before.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” you say, as you take his hand into yours and lead him to the bathroom.

Steve sits patiently while you clean the cut on his face. You’re standing in between his legs and his hands rest on the curve of your hips, just wanting to keep you close. He watches your concentrated expression, thinking it’s cute. He loves how much you care for even the smallest of cuts. He’s pretty sure if he got a papercut, you’d treat it the same.

“It’ll be healed by tomorrow, you know?” he tells you.

“I know,” you say as you toss away the cotton you were using to clean his cut. You shrug, placing both of your hands on his shoulders, “I just wanna take care of you.”

Steve’s heart warms at your words. He looks up at you in disbelief. How did he get so lucky to have you? Even after months apart with radio silence, you still welcome him with open arms. You still care for him. He worries about the day when you’ll get tired of the distance. When it’ll become too much and you’ll give up on this barely there relationship. He knows it isn’t fair to you and you deserve far more than he can give. And yet... you’re still here.

Your hands move up to his cheeks, pulling him in for a quick kiss before leaving his side to turn on the shower.

“Alright, you take a shower and I’ll get you some clothes,” you tell him.

“Care to join me?” Steve asks with a smirk. He walks over to you, his hands wandering to the band of your sleep shorts.

You match his smile but shake your head, “Nuh uh, I don’t think you need any distractions.” You remove his hands from your waist and step back from him, “Now take off your suit.”

“Sweetheart, you can’t just say that and leave me by myself,” he groans, throwing his head back.

“I think you’ll be fine,” you say with a laugh and he can’t help but laugh too. Though he’s slightly disappointed in your rejection, he knows it's probably for the best.  

Once he’s out of his suit, you take his gear from him and leave to give him some privacy. Steve steps into the shower and involuntarily lets out a sigh of relief as the hot water instantly relaxes his muscles. He hasn’t had a good shower in far too long. The grueling weeks of underground missions and uncomfortable nights in the quinjet washes off of him. For a moment, Steve wonders if this is how it could always be. Feeling at peace, not having to be so guarded all the time. Just being here with you in your home makes him forget about the dark life he’s been leading for nearly a year now. Here, he feels like he can finally catch his breath.

Though he wants to stay longer under the hot water, he washes up quickly because he doesn’t want to waste anymore time without you. He gets dressed in the white tee shirt and grey sweats you left for him on the counter. Thankfully, you always keep spare clothes for him.

Just as Steve walks out of the bathroom, you walk into the room holding two mugs.

“I made some tea,” you say, handing him a blue mug with his iconic shield printed on the side. It made him chuckle. He secretly loved how you would keep these little reminders of him.

“And I cleaned your suit as best as I could. The star’s a little loose though,” you tell him.  

“Dont worry about it,” Steve takes the mug and pulls you in with his free hand, giving you a kiss on your forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Soon enough, half filled cups of tea are forgotten on the nightstand. Clothing thrown around the room without care. Steve couldn’t help himself after craving your touch for so long. He’s sure you’ve felt the same, your breathy “please” told him so. Though he didn’t give in so quick, never missing a chance to tease you. Steve took his time rediscovering your taste. Remembering all the ways he drew out those little gasps. He’s dreamt about the way you wrap around him, but that could never compare to the real thing. He missed the way your body felt pressed against his. He missed the sounds of your moans in his ear and the sweet relief that comes after you both meet your ends.

For the rest of the night, the two of you laid in bed, legs twisted together and comfortably wrapped up in each other’s arms. Despite the late hour, you stayed up just talking.

Steve asked about what you have been up to since he’s been gone. You told him about how it’s been at work and the times you’d meet up with your friends over the weekend. You told him about the week you spent with your parents, wishing he could’ve been there. And you talked about the shows you’ve been watching, promising that you’d watch it with him one day.

Your lives were so different now. He wishes he could go back to the days when things weren’t so difficult. He wants that normalcy again, or at least what was normal for an Avenger. He thought he gave up on the idea of wanting a domestic life, forfeited to being a hero instead. But things have changed. Ever since he’s met you, you’ve unknowingly changed his mind.

Maybe it’s the time apart that’s making these moments with you that much more valuable, but it’s all he wants now. It always seems like a fleeting dream. This kind of domestic life isn’t in the cards for him. But the nights he gets to have with you give him hope that it could be possible. He knows he could never completely give up his heroic lifestyle. People need him and he is never one to turn a blind eye. He just hopes that one day he can find a compromise.

Maybe someday he can show up at your office and steal you away for lunch. Or he can join you on those nights out with your friends and get to know them. He would finally meet your family, saving you from them trying to set you up on a date. He’d finally introduce you to the team, the people he considers family. Bucky already knows about you. Steve couldn’t hide someone so important from his best friend. He's pretty sure that Sam and Natasha know where he runs off to every now and then. They even subtly remind him of how risky it is to sneak away. But after the fighting for so long, being with you is just what he needs, even if only for a night.

You were curious, of course, of what Steve has been up to in the time he was gone and where in the world he’s been. Steve avoided any details of the missions he’s gone on. He didn’t want to make you worry, though he’s sure you do anyways. He only tells you the good parts.

“Bucky has goats now,” he says with a smile, recalling the sight of Bucky helping the Wakandans on their farms.

“Really?” you raise your head from his chest, a look of surprise on your features.

“Yeah,” he says with a breathy laugh. “One of them even tried to eat Sam’s pants.”

“Oh my god,” both of your laughters break the quiet of the room.

There’s a lull in the conversation, but it’s a comfortable silence. Steve just enjoys the comforting weight of your body on top of his as he soothingly rubs his hand up and down your arm. For a second, he thinks you’ve fallen asleep but you turn your head to look up at him. He can see how sleepy you are, eyelids half closed. You stare for a moment with a small content smile. Your hand reaches for his face, delicate fingers stroking his beard.

“I like this,” you mutter.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmmm,” you affirm. “Didn’t think you could get any sexier but wow” your eyes widen, emphasizing the last part.

Steve throws his head back, laughing at your comment. You giggle along with him, tucking yourself back closer into his side.

“Guess I’ll keep it then,” he muses.

Silence takes over again. Your fingers draw random shapes across his chest, careful of the bruise on his side. Gradually, your movements get slower until your hand rests above his heart.  

“You should get some sleep sweetheart,” Steve says, kissing the top of your head. He knows he should probably sleep too, but he doesn’t want to. He just wants to enjoy having you in his arms while he can.

“Noooooo,” you let out an adorable whine.  

Steve turns to his side, both of you now face to face. Looking into your eyes, he knows this is exactly where he wants to be. His hand tucks a stray hair behind your ear, thumb caressing your face.

“Wanna stay up with you,” you say, the sleepiness evident in your voice.

Steve glances towards the window, noticing the subtle change of the sky. The dark night beginning to fade away to early morning blues.

His throat feels dry when he looks back at you and says “I have to go soon.”

The pout on your face returns and he wishes he could take it back. You let out a sigh.

“What if you just stayed, right here in this bed and we just never leave?” you asked with a teasing smile.

Steve smirks at the thought, “very tempting.”

“Or,” you begin to suggest, “what if I just went with you?”

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t given it a thought. He knows how much you want to see the world, but it shouldn’t be because you’re following a fugitive. He’s thought about asking the king for another favor, letting just one more person stay in Wakanda, so he can safely visit you more often. But you had your friends and family. He couldn’t be selfish and take you away from your life here. Above all else, he wanted to keep you safe. It was the reason for keeping your relationship a secret in the first place. He didn’t want you being associated with him in fear that you’d be used against him. He’s glad he kept you a secret, especially now that he became a part of the nation’s most wanted.

“I can’t ask that of you,” he says regretfully.

You look at him with sincerity, “I’d go anywhere with you, Steve.”

“I know,” he sighs, “but it’s too dangerous.”

You look at him sadly, before shying away from his stare. “I know.”

“Hey,” he coos softly. His finger bringing up your chin, getting you to look back at him. “Things will get better for us, I promise.”

You nod subtly, and he hopes you believe his words.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” you say, voice breaking toward the end. He can see the emotions swimming in your eyes.

“I wish I didn’t either.”

He leans in to meet your lips, hoping it’ll alleviate the pain in your heart. It damn near breaks him seeing you like this. He hates the torment he’s putting you through, but he was too selfish to actually let you go. He needed the hope you gave him. He needed you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, wiping away a stray tear.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” he reassures you. “Being away from you is hard for me too. Trust me sweetheart, there’s no place I’d rather be than here with you.”

“I know,” you say with a sad smile.

“I love you,” he states firmly, needing you to know that he means it more than anything.

“I love you too,” you respond with a small smile.

He bumps his nose against yours, before giving you another chaste kiss.

The morning light starts to fill the bedroom, signaling his time was almost up. He looks back at you, “Go to sleep, doll.”

You don’t protest this time. Instead, you pull yourself closer, tucking yourself into his embrace. He lays back, swallowing down the sudden emotion he feels. His hand comfortingly strokes down your back, lulling you to sleep. Steve waits for your breathing to even out, making sure you were sleeping before reluctantly leaving your grip.

He quietly gets dressed in his now clean suit that was left hanging on your desk chair. He’s in no rush to leave, taking his time putting his gear back on. He looks over at you and sees you clutching your pillow in place of him. Part of him wonders what the consequences would be if he just stayed.

As he pulls on his suit, Steve notices the off-white star slightly bent off the center of his chest. He rips the whole thing off and walks over to your desk, finding a sticky note and a pen. He writes a reminder of his love for you and a promise that he’ll come back soon. He leaves the note and star on your nightstand for you to find when you wake up.

Just before he leaves, he goes to you and leans down to place a lingering kiss on your forehead, careful not to wake you up. 

He leaves your apartment the same way he came in. The air is much colder. He can hear sounds of the early risers and the birds chirping as he makes his way back down the fire escape. Steve glances one last time at your apartment window. He regretfully leaves the comfort and safety of home, back to his reality of life in the shadows.

thank you for reading! hope you liked it 🤍 as always, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !!

[free-falling-grenade]

Cannnn you please do like a list/headcanons of little facts about Raya??? pretty pless

Ooo okay okay. I can do that:

Raya is ambidextrous af. Pretty much a survival perk she had to master with her years of being alone and encountering bandits or mercenaries. Many smart bandits would target her right hand/arm specifically so she wouldn’t be able to whip her sword out. So, she decides one day when her arm is fully dysfunctional and poorly wrapped in a makeshift bandage and sling,  to practice her left hand skills. She forces herself to eat, write and fight with her left hand. How to flip and land as smoothly with her left as her right.  She purposely moves her sheathed sword to the right side of her belt so she can practice unsheathing it using her left hand and using the weird angle to her advantage to use her right hand sometimes as well to stun some of her enemies.

(I saw this headcanon through someone else and I highly agreed so i thought i should expand) Raya at 16 would find underground fighting competitions in the deep slumps of Tail. At first, she would participate to get some jade but she loses her first few matches much to her embarrassment. But then again, the fighters are twice her age and size. A lone traveler takes pity on her and takes her under her wing one night after a great loss that left her bleeding on the the stage. The traveler, a Tail woman, takes care of her wounds and offers to teach her further fighting skills to tweak her style in exchange for nothing. She compliments her agility but reprimands her for using it wrong. Raya reluctantly agrees, unsure at first coz of the woman not asking for anything back but not having much to offer or lose. She trains with her night and day, only offering her water, not food as the traveler catches on her trust issues. She offers her jades instead to buy her own food to keep her health from deteriorating. They don’t talk much, nothing personal, mostly about her training and fighting related topics. They dont dare venture deeper to their personal business. She tests her skills one day during another underground fight, bets going around, a big sum of jade on the winner. She’s determined but the size of her opponent is three times her size and she almost falters. She sees her teacher in the dark corner of the room, observing her strictly. She remembers her teachings on how to not be intimidated by someone physically stronger than her. She has her speed, her flexibility and agility as her weapon.  Basically, she wins the the match and the next few ones until the traveler informs her that its time to end their lessons. Raya is surprise to find herself disheartened, for once having company other than Tuktuk an actual pleasure of being around. She tells her one day she’ll be able to thank her personally but the traveler dismisses her gratitude saying she has only done what she thought must be done. She leaves without a words. Raya only fighting a few more matches to have a crazy enough jade with her to continue her travels into finding Sisu. 

Which leads to a headcanon that Raya actually met more good people along the way. But didn’t let herself get too personal and attached. Enough for her to actually remember. Her trust issues are still present but she’s not dumb enough to acknowledge genuine acts of kindness. 

Raya is hella introverted. Being used to her time alone for all those years has taught her how to sit in her own thoughts and relish the quiet. She has her friends, Boun, Tong, Noi, Sisu and Namaari but there are times where she’d rather be alone. Her energy easily depleted after a social interaction. Taking a while to recharge till she can. Although, Namaari is an exception. The Fang princess allowed to be by her side, the only one who seems to understand Raya’s desire for the quiet.

Which leads to another headcanon. Raya is sensitive to noise, having it trigger her sometimes when it gets too loud or irritable. Or noises she can’t distinguish the sound off, or has no control whatsoever. She has to step away before she goes into sensory overload.  It’s why social gatherings, or Kumandra’s esteemed parties never sits well with her. Her own heart and mind trained to be cautious, the loud noise usually causing her to get disoriented and the feeling of unsafety spreads through her in panic. Namaari is by her side instant dragging her away when this happens. 

She can actually cook, despite her horrible attempts of dried jackfruit jerky for years. Jackfruit being her only source of food that she didn’t have to blatantly steal out of someone else’s hands and hard work. She has learned from her Ba even before they were turned to stone. She was taught how sharing a meal is one of the most important thing in friendships and relationships, strengthening their bond to great heights. Namaari was surprised one day when she was invited to Heart and Raya was the one cooking and serving her the food.

She can sing! Of course she can, but its mostly to herself or when she’s alone. Namaari catches her one day, her cat like stealth making her undetectable. One night Raya can’t sleep in Fang, she steps away to the training grounds, Namaari follows closely but she decides to observe for a while, not wanting to disrupt the alone time the Heart princess might have preferred. She listens to her sing in the middle of the training grounds, not even bothering to practice any moves. She just sits on the sparring platform in the middle and letting the natural echo and reverberations of the room enhance her voice.  Namaari just falls inlove a bit more after that.

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Prompt: Skizz discovers Impulse is a traitor early?

well hello there :D hope this is as good as whatever you had in mind! cuz i dont think i got exactly that lol

...

You whisper to impulseSV: We need to talk. ASAP.

Skizz paces back and forth in his room, anxiously waiting for a response. He hasn’t told anyone what he saw yet; even though he knows he probably should, he just doesn’t want to face it. Something inside him is telling him it’s not true, that there has to be a reasonable explanation. He can’t spread this information before he finds out whether or not it’s true.

impulseSV whispers to you: okay, meet me at my villager hole

Skizz jumps into action and rushes out of the building. He doesn’t tell anyone where he’s going, which might be a big mistake.

He runs all the way to Impulse’s villager hole and bursts in through the non-trapped door. But Impulse is nowhere in sight.

Frowning, Skizz spots a trapdoor with a ladder visible under it that wasn’t there before. He carefully climbs down the ladder and finds himself in an almost pitch black underground room, about the same size as the interior of Dogwarts.

Skizz walks out into the middle of the room, looking around in awe.

“Skizz,” comes Impulse’s voice.

“Gah!” Skizz nearly jumps out of his skin. “Don’t do that! Where are you?”

Impulse materialises out of the darkness. “Hey. Did you come alone?”

“Yeah, I did. I gotta talk to you.”

“So talk.”

Skizz takes a deep breath. “I, uh… I saw you earlier today, meeting with the crastle people. I didn’t hear much of what you said, just something about “gaining their trust”. That… Impulse, you’re on our side, right? You’re just pretending to be friends with them?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” replies Impulse easily. Too easily.

Skizz frowns. “Impulse, please tell me it’s not true. Tell me you’re not betraying us for THEM.”

“I’m not betraying anyone,” says Impulse defensively. “You know me; I’m not capable of that. You… do know that, right?”

“I…” Skizz stares at his best friend. “A few hours ago, I’d have said no. But now… I think you’re capable of anything. Tell me the truth, Impulse. Whose side are you on?”

“Yours, of course.”

“You’re doing it again! Switching on the ol’ Impulse charm and saying exactly what the other person wants to hear. You know that doesn’t work on me, buddy. I’ve known you far too long.” Skizz narrows his eyes. “You’re a mole. You pretended to join us but you’re on their side and you’re gonna betray us for them. Am I wrong?”

After a moment, Impulse wordlessly turns away, all but confirming Skizz’s suspicions.

Skizz’s stomach drops. “Oh, god… I trusted you! You- You traitor!”

Impulse sighs. “This is just like you, Skizz: running over here to confront me alone cuz you couldn’t POSSIBLY fathom that you might’ve been wrong about me. Did it ever occur to you that maybe this world changes people? That you can’t truly trust anyone but yourself?”

“No!” Skizz snaps. “I trust Ren and I trust Martyn and Etho and I DID trust YOU!”

“And that’s gonna be your downfall.”

He suddenly shoves Skizz to the ground. Before his friend can react, Impulse brings his foot down hard on Skizz’s ankle.

Skizz screams as they both hear it crack. The pain is immense; it’s definitely fractured, if not broken completely.

“See the thing is, I can’t have you running around blabbing about this to anyone,” Impulse says casually. “But at the same time, I can’t just kill you because that would show up in chat. So I think it’s time I test out my brand new trap and see how deadly it is.”

Tears of pain and anger fall from Skizz’s eyes as he stares into the cold, harsh eyes of the man he used to call his brother. “Wh-Why, Impulse…? Why would you d-do this to me…?”

Impulse just shrugs. “I’m just playing the game, Skizz. Sorry.”

With that, he turns and walks away into the darkness.

“Impulse!” cries Skizz, his vision completely obscured by tears. “IMPULSE! DON’T LEAVE ME! PLEASE!”

He hears the click of a lever being pulled in the darkness, followed immediately by pistons moving. His breathing quickening, he rolls onto his side and pushes himself up, but as soon as he puts weight on his left ankle, he knows he’s not going to be able to use it.

A familiar growl pierces the air, causing him to freeze.

A zombie.

More growls.

A LOT of zombies.

The first one that appears through the darkness nearly gives him a heart attack. He manages to slice it down with his sword, but by then, three more have ganged up on him. Trying to back away, he finds himself completely surrounded by a horde of at least two dozen zombies.

“NO!” he screams. “HELP ME! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!”

The zombies’ claws dig into his skin, and at least two of them manage to bite his arms. Players are able to resist being turned into a zombie through a bite but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Accidentally putting weight on his injured ankle again, Skizz collapses to the ground and curls up in a ball, trying to protect his head and neck. Impulse was clever; he hurt Skizz’s ankle on purpose so he could neither run nor fight for long.

This is it for him. They’re going to kill him.

All of a sudden, a battle yell echoes in the darkness, followed immediately by the sound of zombies taking damage. Multiple zombies taking damage at once. Someone’s come to save him.

The zombies attacking Skizz move away to target this new threat, but they’re no match for whoever it is. Within a minute, all the zombies in the room have been eliminated.

“Skizz!” comes Etho’s voice. “Are you okay?!”

Severely weakened and on the verge of passing out from the pain, Skizz looks up at his friend, unable to muster the words to reply. His vision is swimming, but he can just about see two figures kneeling beside him.

Etho and Martyn. They came to save him.

That’s the last thought in his mind before he passes out.

…

“-is definitely broken. But not like he fell from somewhere and landed on it. More like someone stomped on it until it broke.”

“What?! Who would do something like that?!” “I don’t know. Hopefully Skizz can shed some light on this when he wakes up. Oh my goodness, Ren, you should have seen how many zombies there were. I don’t think it was a coincidence.”

“So… you’re saying someone tried to murder Skizzle? Broke his ankle so he couldn’t get away from the zombies?”

“Yeah, I think so. And we think it was Impulse, too. Etho and I didn’t see anyone else around except him, and the hole was under his villager place as well, so we- Oh, look! I think he’s awake!”

Skizz lets out a quiet groan, his eyes slowly opening. As his vision adjusts to the light, he registers Martyn and Ren by his side, and the interior of his bedroom back at Dogwarts behind them.

“Hey, Skizzles,” says Ren gently. “How are you feeling?”

Blinking slowly, Skizz looks down at his arms and finds them covered in bandages. Beyond them, he can see his ankle elevated in a cast. Nothing hurts anymore, to his relief.

“Alive,” he rasps. “For good or for bad.”

“What happened?” Martyn asks. “Do you remember?”

“Oh, I remember.” Skizz tries to suppress a sniffle at the traumatic memory. “It was Impulse. He’s a backstabbing traitor and he tried to kill me to stop me from telling you.”

Ren gasps, but Martyn just shakes his head, an anguished expression on his face. “I should’ve known. There were so many little clues but he explained them away so well, I just…”

“He had us all fooled,” Ren murmurs. “I’m just glad we managed to get to you before he got away with murdering you. If he had, we’d never have known, and we would’ve continued to trust him.”

“How- How did you find me?” Skizz asks. “I didn’t tell you where I was going.”

“Etho and I went looking for you cuz we hadn’t seen you in a while,” replies Martyn. “We just happened to be at Impulse’s villager pen when we heard you screaming. Luckily, Impulse had just left and I don’t think he heard you, or he might have tried to kill us too.”

His upper lip curls in an expression of disgust. “We bumped into him right there and it was like nothing was wrong. It makes me sick to think that he was up there chit-chatting to us about his villagers like everything was fine, knowing full well he’d literally just abandoned you to be murdered by a horde of zombies. That goes beyond 3rd Life; that’s… that’s just pure evil.”

Skizz nods slowly. “Yeah, something’s not right with him anymore. Whoever that was… it’s not my Impulse. Something’s changed him.”

“Well, either way, at least you’re alive and his treachery has been exposed,” Ren says. “And we will take our revenge on him for trying to kill you. As soon as he’s red, we take him down.”

“Why wait?” asks Martyn, frowning. “Why not kill him now, while he’s on yellow?”

“Because if we do, he’ll harbour a grudge and try to take revenge on US for killing him once he’s red. And if yellow life Impulse is THAT dangerous, imagine what he can do on red. It’s better to wait and come up with a plan so when he becomes red, we can take him out immediately and prevent further carnage.”

A shiver runs down Skizz’s spine. It feels horrible to be discussing killing his best friend when they had been so close only hours before. Despite everything Impulse has done, he doesn’t actually want him to die. He still loves his brother, no matter what.

Even though he’d love nothing more than to punch him in his stupid face right now.

“Skizz?” says Martyn softly. “You okay?”

Skizz clears his throat. “Y-Yeah. I think I will be.”

Eventually.

[rjshepherd]

if Heisenberg survived and brought to Blue Umbrella headcanons??

See I was going to write something nice about how blue umbrella helped him and then he had a difficult but still very pleasant life.

But fuck that here's some horror and angst.

warning: very dark content under the cut.

Blue umbrella Karl headcanons

-i think its actually the BSAA who find him shortly after the bomb destroys the megamycte. He's in quite a state, probably missing body parts like an arm or an eye. Hes seriously injured and in need of a hospital, but where can they take him? he might infect a regular hospital. Most of the BSAA staff dont see him as a person, just a BOW so they send him to a blue umbrella lab for treatment.

-Karl is the only survivor of the village and only sample of the unedited mold left in the entire world. he would be IMMENSELY valuable on the black market. Blue umbrella don't do BOW arms dealing like the original umbrella, but they're still glad to be the only ones with a sample. they're going to use him to make themselves a fortune in new medicine or made to order soldiers.

- Chris was correct not to trust Blue umbrella. Ok their goals are far more noble than the original company. they want to use their predecessors experiments, viruses and knowledge to make things better for people. but ultimately they still do experiments that could be considered cruel. they don't test on people anymore but they have no problem testing on BOW's like karl or the other lords. after all, they're not really human anymore so who's going to complain?

-they want the mold from karl, that much is obvious. but i think they'd be interested in having him as an operative, like the BSAA bioweapon soldiers we see at the very end of re8. Maybe they send him into the field but i actually think they might make copies of him, like the tyrant series. Karl is incredibly valuable so i doubt they'd wanna risk losing him, but copies? something they can mass produce? They'd sooner use those than risk real soldiers lives.

- i don't Karl has any say in this. I envision them using something like that P45 device wesker used on jill to control people like karl. He's still aware of whats happening but theres nothing he can do about it .

- He himself doesn't feel indebted to BU in any way, he didn't ask for their help. but they make a point of telling him how they saved him and how he owes them for that. He probably starts off in some sort of quarantine zone while they fix him up but after that i can see them hiding him further and further away in the labs until he's essentially locked in a cage.

-every time he acts up, the leash tightens. Maybe he starts off in a relatively nice room, no freedom but at least comfortable. However, one day he snaps, demanding to be let out or "how much longer are you going to keep me here?" maybe he kills a researcher in self defence. either way, Blue umbrella reveals their true colours, that they never intended to let him go. By the time things calm down again Karl is locked in a tiny room somewhere deep underground with few amenities and even less to entertain himself . they use any excuse to make things miserable for him, like not coming when they call or flinching when they take blood.

-I imagine they like to lock him in a faraday cage to block his electrical abilities from influencing the metal around him. it makes him feel powerless and the lack of connection to his magnetic abilities really disoriented him

- understandably Karl is not too happy about all of this. He's already traumatised by what miranda did to him but to have it done all over again by the people who were meant to be helping him is a step too far. I can absolutely see him going feral and trying to escape, probably killing a lot of researchers in the process.

-So what sort of experiments are they doing on him? i can see them cutting piece off of him to test the molds regen powers, maybe trying to shoot him to see if he can deflect the metal in bullets, maybe replacing parts of him with plastic he cant actually manipulate or metal parts that hurt if he does try to use his powers?

- if you wanna get really fucked up i can absolutely see blue umbrella vivisecting him. The want the cadou to create more soldiers like him and they want to examine his electric organs , which they cant do if he's dead ( no brain activity would mean no electricity). unfortunately because karl is so difficult to kill, he's awake and aware the entire time.

- maybe chris has some suspicious of what BU are doing and decides to check in. He doesn't like Karl or care for him in any way, but he doesn't want another outbreak on his hands or more people like the lords out in the world. I imagine by the time he found Karl, the poor bastard would be too far gone. Either mutilated beyond recognition, Mind warped by the P45 device or driven insane by the torture. I think the kindest thing Chris could do would be to put him out of his misery.

Thanks nonnie. im sad now ;-; i am a terrible person and you are an enabler

[fanmoose12]

i know its a stretch, but if you have the time may i please request for you to do a scenario where hanji is dead but then on levi's birthday she visits him (as a ghost). it's alright if you dont want to do this. thank you for all the stories you write, they're beautiful!

It seemed nearly impossible, but he had done it. He had lived to his 40th birthday. Ever since he was a kid, living in the dark and cold Underground, he never thought that his life would be so long. And ever since he joined the Scouts, he was only further convinced that he would not live to see the grey in his hair.

And after all those losses, he didn’t really want to prolong his life any further.

But still, he survived. All the battles, all the pain and heartbreaks, he survived it. And now he was forty.

The evening was spent with the few ones that still gave a shit about him. It was a quiet, almost solemn affair, as everyone couldn’t ignore all the empty chairs that stood around the table.

His birthday shouldn’t have been so peaceful. There should be tight embraces, as Farlan and Isabel hold him in their arms. There should be bickering, as Petra and Oluo argued whose gift was better, while Eld and Guntner helplessly tried to placate them. There should be the sound of clicking glasses, as Erwin and Mike enjoyed their wine, taking a much needed break. There should be shouts and loud congratulations, as all the kids from 104th cheered on their Captain.

There should be happy laughter and a warm hand, holding his. There should be a deep voice, teasing him about his popularity. There should be a gentle smile on soft lips. There should be a quiet whisper, unheard by no one but him, as that voice wished him a happy birthday.

It shouldn’t be like this. He shouldn’t be alone.

But he won’t be alone for too long, he knows it. As soon as everyone clears out of his apartment, Levi turns around and, just as he predicted, she already stands there, shifting through the small amount of gifts on a table.

He doesn’t really know what she is – is it Hange’s ghost that haunts him, or is it just a manifestation of his broken mind that had to deal with too many losses. But no matter, what she really is, Levi always welcomes her. In those short moments that he can see her again, he feels alive.

Hange is not only the one, who visits him. And even before he lost her, he saw his dead loved ones. Sometimes, he’d feel a hand, ruffling through his hair in the same manner his mother did, while she was still alive. Sometimes, there would be a cup of tea on his table, even though he was certain he didn’t make it. Sometimes, he’d hear soft giggling that reminded him of sweet Isabel. Sometimes, he’d feel a heavy hand on his shoulder and knew that it was Erwin’s.

Their visits weren’t frequent and Levi had never actually seen their faces. But, of course, she is more persistent than everyone else.

Levi isn’t even surprised.

“You look awful,” Hange softly chuckles. “Just like an old man.”

“I am an old man,” Levi huffs. “And need I remind you that you’re dead?”

“And that means that I’ll be forever young and beautiful!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about the beautiful part.”

“Ouch, that was rude,” A grin doesn’t leave Hange’s face. “C’mon, loosen up, it’s your birthday! You should be happy!”

 Levi squeezes his hands into fists. Tears start to gather in the corner of his eye. Levi closes it, unwilling to shed them. “And how the fuck can I be happy? When everyone I cared about had left? When everyone, who made me happy are gone?”

“But we’re not, Levi,” Hange comes to stand next to him. “We’re not gone, not really. We’re still here,” she lays her hand onto his chest, right where his heart is. “And we’ll be with you, as long as you remember us.”

She then circles her arms around him, enveloping him in a hug. He feels so warm, he wants to remain like this forever.

“I know it’s hard,” she whispers in his ear. Her voice is as soft as the wind. “But keep going on, Levi. Continue living, try to find some happiness. We’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”

“And then—?” Levi asks in a soft, barely audible whisper.

“And then we’ll be together. I promise you.”

Levi lingers there for a moment, clinging onto Hange with everything he has. But then, he lets go and he feels himself smile for the first time, since he had lost her.

“If that’s so,” he says, seeing that Hange’s form started to disappear. “Then there is something for me to look for,” he squeezes her palm once, before letting go completely. As soon as he does so, Hange is gone.

But the memory of her sweet smile, and the memory of everyone else he had lost, stays in Levi’s mind. Those memories warm his broken heart.

“Later, Hange,” he whispers into an empty room.

[njeancastro316]

Captive

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

This is what happens when one of your tumblr sisters @moon-ascendant teases you with a picture of Daniel Gillies as Wing commander Hayes from Occupation Rainfall just to show you his hands and active the heck of the hand kink 🤤🥵 while chatting. Love ya! I have not watch the movie. I’m just going from the synopsis of the story.

English is not my first language.🤷🏻‍♀️

Bolds thoughts: sorry that’s my style of writing

Warnings SMUT like real SMUT complete SMUT be freaking gentle this was torturous to write. Lord knows I love to read them but writing them is a completely different thing entirely. So if you’re younger that 18 please look away my darlings.

Kudos to the gif creator , that giff was used for the facial expressions and the yummy eye FUCK Vibes Hayes gives the female reader.

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

Y/N couldn’t think of a worse situation . At the moment she was held captive in an Australian military facility, underground in a secret lab where gruesome experiments were done to the alien invaders. She led a mission to free the captives and ended up being one. She was stripped and left in nothing but her underwear her hands were tied and her arms were up placed on some sort of a butchers hook , behind her a concrete wall. Tired and beaten up she waited for the commander of the facility . Since she didn’t talk to the officers they summoned the man himself to whom they referred as the beast. She was anxious but not scared . Her arms hurt from the uncomfortable position they were placed in .

Then footsteps could be heard from the corridor. The comander was close , coming to interrogate her and possible torture her. She would not give the wanker the satisfaction of making her talk , she’d rather die. Beeping sounds were heard and her breath hitched on her throat as the door whooshed open. In came the one person she never in a million years expected to see. So this was their leader Special Wing Comander Hayes .They had history. ‘Bugger’ she thought . Hayes brown eyes locked on hers and spoke to the rest of the men in the room. “Leave us”.

“But sir she’s dangerous” the soldier interrupted . Big mistake Hayes gun was out in a flash hitting the man with it on his face blood splattering everywhere from the soldiers nose.

“If I can’t control this little sheila then perhaps I do deserve to die. Now fuck off”. He went to the control console shutting the monitors down. Once the soldiers were gone he turned to Y/N and by god he had never look more handsome . This man made the uniform look like a sin she desperately wanted to commit. “My Ohhh my Y/N” he started. “Fancy that ... what are the odds of me finding you here of all places”.

“Fuck off Hayes”.

“Tchhh tchhh tchh”he reprimanded with his tongue. “Language mate , I see something’s never changed” he smirked. “Now listen very carefully baby . This could go either fairly easy where you tell me who’s leading the resistance and what is their location? Or things could get ugly up to where I have to get it out of you by any means necessary and we both know that I don’t want to do that, not to you luv. So what do ya reckon eh? , come on talk to me”. He stood in front of her as her chest heaved frustrated.

“I’m not talking Hayes. Do what you have to I’m not a traitor and a coward like you”! She shouted.

His hand found her neck swiftly and gave her a hard squeeze “You wound me mate” . “Look whose talking about traitors THEY invaded US , THEY are killing US why do you help THEM ? he asked upset squeezing a little making her harder for her to breathe then releasing his hold a bit enough for Y/N to catch her breath.

“Not all of them are bad , what you are doing here is wrong , there has to be another way to defeat them . Not like this Hayes please listen to me I” she spoke while taking gulps of much needed oxygen.

“You can what ? Help me? My duty is to my country and if I have to torture and kill the lot of them bastards he paused I will”. “I’ll ask one last time luv tell me who’s your leader? Don’t make me hurt you”. He ran his gun over from her cheek to her breasts . She recoiled.

“Fuck you”! Spitting to the ground disrespecting him.

“Fuck me ? ... Fuck me?!” Hayes snapped he pressed her to the wall with his body . The hand on her neck moved to her dark locks, his long fingers tangling on her tresses pulling her head back hard while his gun pressed to the underside of her left breast. “You want to try that again luv? , I’m going to give you one last chance”. He snarled. Y/N remembered what those big calloused hands could do as he jabbed his gun to her side again and pulled her hair simultaneously earning him a moan not from pain or discomfort but from lust.

“Is this ... he paused “is this turning you on mate?” He smirked

“Hayes let me go ... I don’t have the information you seek Please .. please I” she gasped her panties were gone. His gun disappeared and soon his fingers were at her core .

“God”! She moaned “Hayes please”.

‘Fuck this interrogation’ he thought he’d missed her and she was here vulnerable and ready for him to take her to heaven. There was something about having her like this arms up hands tied that he could not resist. He sped the movement of his fingers making Y/Ns eyes rolled back into her head. ‘Fuck the mission he’s mine’ she was close. Suddenly her vision blurred and white appeared before her eyes as she came on his fingers her body shaking violently. He brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean ‘Fucking delicious baby’ he ran his tongue through his lips before taking her mouth with his own. His slippery tongue fought with her for dominance eventually winning. Y/N threw her head back hissing as his lips found her breasts . His beard scratched her light sensitive skin as he took a nipple in his mouth and suckled.

“Untie me” she begged .

“No”

“Please let me touch you”

He almost gave in ... almost “No” making her growl and curse pulling at her bindings.

Y/N heard his zipper come undone making her look down to his trousers . She had never been so glad to hear that sound. She looked up at him and the look on his face made her cum right then and there. He was so intense.

With little effort he grabbed her by the back of her thighs and hoisted her up against his waist . His length was warm and hard ready to take her. Y/N wrapped her legs around him and leaned forward to kiss him. He sighed into the kiss. He could feel her trembling with need as his fingers greazed her lower back , his tongue intertwining with hers, relishing in her sweet taste. He couldn’t wait any longer and with a hard thrust he swallowed her moan. He was finally in and it was blissful. Hayes set a fast and brutal pace hammering her against the wall and Y/N enjoyed every single second of it. He pulled her hands from the hook and place them behind his neck . She met his thrusts pressing her forehead against his as they panted into each other’s mouths. “Hayes”... Y/N whimpered he knew she was close so he lowered his hand to her core again and started to rub her clit. She moaned into his ear as her thrusts became desperate trying to keep up with him but failing .With a few more movements of his hips she screamed his name for the whole facility to hear . Feeling her walls convulsing around him sent the wing comander over the edge whispering her name fervently over and over again. Coming down from his high he pulled out slowly hissing in the process. “Sensitive comander”? Y/N whispered making him chuckle. “Something like that mate” he took her arms off from around his neck and looking into one of his pockets he produced a knife. “What are you doing”?! She got anxious. “Hush now lass” he cut off her bindings he steadied her .“Get dressed and go I’ll cover ya”. Y/N’s eyes widened “Come with me Hayes”. “No luv I’m into this way to deep , I’ve made my bed no way I’ll back out now” .He grabbed her face and brought his lips to hers one last time. Once dressed she turned to leave when he held her hand .

“What?”

“Take my gun” he put the firearm on her hands.

“You cannot give me this , I can’t” her eyes full of tears.

“You have to and make it believable” he nodded.

“You can’t be serious Hayes ...no” she looked at him refusing to do what he commanded .

“Now my luv you’ll have a window of 60 seconds before I tripped the alarm. Do you understand?”

“Y/N”! he shouted .

“Bugger” she said angry.

“For what is worth... I love you” he gave her a small smile.

“See ya comander” she said before hitting him with his gun on the face cutting his right eyebrow open and aiming at his arm shooting on the forearm.

“You bitch!! ... Fuck”!

“I love you too”she ran from the room hoping she could find the exit before he tripped the alarm.

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

There you go a little fluffy towards the end. 😁 Please my smut writing needs some serious refinement but hell I did it weeee!!🎉🎉. I don’t know what happens or have seen Occupation Rainfall , I just couldn’t resist Daniel in a uniform 🤤🥵. I tried to keep the Australian in it lol, I dont know anyone from there so I apologize in advance 🤦🏻‍♀️. I hope you enjoy. Like , reblog , leave coments. I adore them. Toodles until next time my darlings.

@hellotvshowtrash @moon-ascendant @moon-child-writer @multifandom-girlie @eternityunicorn @elejahfanfic @mikaelson-emma @dumble-daddy @nikmikaelsonswife @lady-salvatore @soul-revoir @maldita-world @satedbond @xxwritemeastoryxx @elijahs-wife @lokis-favorite-follower @petrova-banz @umaficwriter @raemikaelson @ronniemikaelson

[that-little-zebunny]

Skin to Skin (First Sleep over)

Pairing: Loki x Avenger!Reader

Warning: fluff with a pinch of smut. Implied smut.

WC: 1.358

Summary: You're new to the team and end up messing it up with the God of mischief on your first day in. Knowing his reputation you're up for a fun time in the compound.

Note: sorry this is late. Had some bad brain day and I wasn't able to do anything. 🥺 i hope you all dont mind and hope you'll enjoy this.

Also dont forget to check out the HBC's Week of Love and @the-th-horniest-book-club .

Series Masterlist

"Hey, glad you're back and… is safe." You greeted Loki as you walked next to him. Eying him up and down to see if he's hurt but all you saw is his gorgeousness in all its glory. Nodding your head in approval and seeing he's very much fine you held his hand firmly to make him stop walking you tiptoed to kiss his cheeks.

"I am glad I am back too, my sweet cookies. I have missed you." He smiled caressing your cheeks as you stared up at him. You can feel the calm contentment from him and that made you relax completely.

"I hope next time they'll put us on the same mission." You pout as you both start walking again.

"Oh you know why they are not doing that." He laughed.

"Well it was just one time!" You said hands folding on your chest as the memory of your last mission together came to your mind.

It was one big fight with some underground army. It's one bloody day as they tried to fight you off when you came to take their base down and some very high tech and alien weapons were involved and one of those was able to shot Loki from behind causing you to lose focus as you saw everything. He was thrown and was on the ground unmoving and something inside you snapped.

You cried out running towards him. You felt like your brain was about to explode from fear when he didn't respond to your call. You can hear your team's voices over your comms but it was like they're underwater. You couldn't understand what they're saying. All you can think of was Loki is gone and something happened that you didn't know is possible. Everyone within two meter radius from you all fell down clutching their head, crying out, screaming painfully and some had blood on their eyes and nose. You got to Loki holding him in your arms. He's eyes were closed but you felt his consciousness trying to slowly wake up. Caressing his cheeks you kept on muttering please wake up in your head again and again. It was like you're trapped in a bubble and all you can see is him. You only snapped out of it when Nat touched your arm making her calmness rubbed to you. You looked up at her and saw that she's holding the side of her brain too.

You looked around surprised seeing half of the soldiers fighting you were down.

"I-I did that?" You asked, surprised. You've never been able to do that. Influence anyone without physical contact.

"We think so." Nat said, finally relaxing as the pain in her brain slowly fades.

"I-I...oh god, I'm so sorry!" You gasp. You got scared again with the new knowledge but was able to calm down when you felt Loki's consciousness in your. Second later his arms came up to your cheek.

"Everything will be alright, sweet cookies. We will figure this out." He grunted and he pushed himself up sitting down to touch his side. Green mist came out of his hands towards the injury and it disappeared. "I'm sorry that I scared you." He said kissing your cheeks and that's how it started. The team tried to keep you away from Loki if the mission is dangerous or when you're not on a mission you're in Bruce's lab trying to figure out how it happend.

"I shall meet you later alright?" You blinked at Loki when he spoke. You're now in front of the conference room. You nodded.

"Don't forget we have movie night alright?" You reminded him and walked towards Bruce's lab.

It was getting dark and you're in your room waiting for Loki. You've brought in snacks and some drinks. Mostly for you because earth's alcohol doesn't affect Loki. You also have stocks of movies to choose from. You nervously waited. This will be the first time you'll have him alone in your room and just the thought had your face heating up.

"It's alright, it's just movie night." Breathing in and out to calm yourself you checked everything again. It's just you doing your usual hobby with a plus one now. You're fluffing the pillow for the third time when it came, three soft knocks on your door. Sneaking a nervous peak on your setup you walked to let Loki in.

"Hello gorgeous." He greeted you kissing your cheek. You've been touching Loki a lot now that you've become comfortable with his emotions.

"Gorgeous your face." Laughing you moved to the side to let him enter. "I'm wearing pajamas and have bad hair."

"You can be in the ugliest clothing midgard can have and still be gorgeous." He said, pulling you close to steal a kiss and let you go as quickly walking in your room. He's looking around noting all the stuff you have in. Admiring the photographs you have of you and your dearest grandmother. He'd heard a lot of the wonderful woman that raised you when your own parents failed to do you.

He was staring at one particular picture with you and your grandmother in front of an old looking house. You're hugging her from behind, your arms wrapped around her shoulders and cheeks pressing against each other. It was a very sweet image but what caught his attention was the necklace your grandmother was wearing. It looks familiar but he couldn't remember where he last saw it. Shaking his haid he turned to look at you when you called his name. Reaching out a hand to make his walk toward your little comfy made up seat in the foot of your bed.

Slightly cold but strong arms tightening on your waist woke you up. Opening your eyes you came face to face with a firm chest. Face heating up upon remembering how you end up falling asleep on Loki's side in the third movie. You pushed yourself up a little to look at Loki's sleeping face. It's so nice to see him like this. In peace and relaxed. Smiling you traced the shape of his face admiring his beauty. God, you love him so much…

===========*implied smut warning*=======

"I love you too my sweet cookies." He huskily said as his hands went up your side caressing it in time with your tracing.

"How's your first sleepover? Sorry I fell asleep before the last movie ended." You said. "Im such a bad host." You sighed and lay your head on his chest. You felt his shake as he laughed.

"Oh you're the best host my sweetness." He said rolling so you're under him now. "Sleeping beside you and waking up with you as the first face I see. Wouldn't like it if it was anyone else. Thank you for letting me in your personal space." He said. Your heart starts beating wildly as he slowly descends his face to yours.

As his lips touched yours, you melted. Nothing matters but Loki and his touches. Your hands went around his back caressing it enjoying the feel of his skin on yours as his lips stole your breath away. You moaned as his tongue liked your lower lips asking permission. You opened your lips savouring the taste of him. He only left you to let you breathe some air, his lips attacking your neck instead, leaving little kisses from your neck to your shoulder.

"I want you…" you whispered to him. You've never been this intimate with him but something in your core crave him. Craves to feel all of him and be filled with him.

"I've desired you for too long my sweetness. And I shall have you tonight." He said as flicked his hand using his magic to make your clothes disappear.

"You and your magic." You giggled and kissed him again. Savouring the feel of his body on your. His smell, his every delicate but sinful moves and that night he fully owned you and it was like everything clicked, you became one in every sense there is. Your body and mind was two sides of a broken glass and you're whole now.

Tag list

Skin to skin: @delightfulheartdream @victias @kaogasm @marvelgirl7 @alexakeyloveloki @newdaynewyearnewlife @multifandomlife22 @the-lake-is-calling

Tom Hiddleston and Characters: @jewels2876 @jobean12-blog @CurlyRed2020

[mirsfa]

dangerously (v)

Genre: Uhm. Kinda everything, from angst through fluff to smut Word count: 10k  Pairing: Prince!Jaehyun x Mafia!Reader Warning: Cursing, underage smoking, drinking, use of drugs, even more cursing, smut in upcoming chapters. There’s a lot and I might have left some out oops. Summary: You were polar opposites. He was royalty, you were a criminal. You hated him, he hated you. This mission was the last thing any of you wanted, but you had to make it work. But could you?  TW: domestic abuse, violence

a/n: hello to every single one of you<3 so here we are again. me being ridiculously late, and you being like “wait whats this fanfic again i dont remember” hnng. SO here is part 5 of dangerously:) i promised a double update - which is going to happen. this is part 5, and i think next week ill upload part 6. i hope that’s alright:) (the whole chapter was 20k but i think its more reasonable if i upload it in two parts). Thank you so so so much for all the people that reminded me to keep going and keep writing. to everyone who likes this mess of words i manage to put together. i love you all, from the bottom of my heart.  also, i put a keep reading thingy on. i pray it works.

Previously: It all went down in slow motion.  The dancefloor of the gigantic room cleared out, the remaining guests pushing themselves up against the walls. Pure terror was written all over their faces, at the scene that played in the very middle of the room.   Prince Chenle stood there.   With a knife at his throat.   And at the end of the knife, the person who was holding it… Junhui.   You stopped breathing as you took in his face, took in that familiar, sharp smile. As your eyes met with Yukhei’s from across the room, you were certain he was horrified, just as much as you.   They were here.   The Black Spade was here.  

The air was stiff, tense; you felt the droplet of sweat on your neck before it had a chance to slide down. You were aware of everything suddenly, the sharp breaths of the elite guests, the faint clinking of your jewellery, the clamminess of your palms as you tightened your fist. You were in deep shit and you had a vague idea of what the outcome might be if you didn’t think of a solution quick enough.  

It’s been three years since you saw any member of the Black Spade.  

Not like you regretted it, or that you had wished to see them. It simply made you nervous, made you hyper-aware of your surroundings. Now, that one of them – if not all – is in the same room as you, some sort of perverse euphoria took over your brain, that they see you, and they want to kill you, and they have no idea how much can be done in the span of three years.  

“Long time no see, beautiful,” drifted Junhui’s voice, and you swore the blood froze in your veins. His ashy hair fell into his eyes as he tilted his head slightly, his cupid’s bow-like lips curling into a vicious, Cheshire-cat smile. He looked different since the last time you saw him, but if it surprised you, the feeling slid away into a secluded, subconscious part of your brain. It was not the appropriate time to think about the appearance of a conman. It was never the same.  

Even though he was standing far away from you, you felt feather-light touches caress your arms, ice-cold breath brushing your neck and even colder lips linger above your shoulder.  

Mirroring his expression, you placed your weight on your right leg and cocked your waist out. The dress shifted around your legs, the slit moving so that your left leg was let bare. You replaced your shocked expression with one of confidence, of piercing ice.  

“Let the prince go, Junhui,” you breathed as you kept eye-contact with him, no matter the amount of memories and even more regrets flashing into your mind.  

His grip tightened on the knife and Chenle hissed as a droplet of blood slid down on the front of his neck.  

For fucks sake.  

The youngest prince was supposed to be down in the basement along with his brother Donghyuck and Winwin…where are they? What happened to them?  

You did not dare glancing up at the balcony, where Taeyong and Doyoung lay, scared that a single look might serve as a clue to the one of the conmen of the Black Spade.  

“Come and take him, assassin,” mused Jun and you tilted your head to the side as invitation.  

“Where is the rest of your precious little gang, Jun?” you asked, masking your voice with the similar silky tone the conman sported. He ran his eyes over your figure then, something like bizarre satisfaction flashing in the dark orbs.  

“Three years ago,” Junhui purred, ignoring your question, as he flattened the blade on Chenle’s neck, “you pulled an impressive stunt.” You felt all eyes on you and him, the guests remaining backed up until the ivory and gold embroidered walls. You kept yourself straightened, focused on your breathing and let your hand linger around the dagger hidden under your dress.  

“Don’t evade,” you said then, icy edge wedging itself between your words, “let the prince go and show your faces so we can settle this properly.”  

A beat of silence, then Junhui craned his neck back as he let out a booming laugh. The knife tightened on Chenle’s neck and his panicked eyes searched yours.  

“Settle this properly?” crowed Jun then before his lips curled back in a vicious snarl. You felt the whole room tense at the sheer animosity. “And what does this ‘settling’ mean for you, huh, dear? Shooting someone in the head? Or stabbing them in the neck, maybe blow their guts up with the help of your little arsonist?” his eyes narrowed into slits as he drank up your facial expression, “or does spreading your legs nice and wide does the job for everyone?”  

You stopped breathing.  

Talk.  

This is all talk, and he talked too much –  

Stalling. Was he stalling?  

You didn’t dare look up at the balcony, it would just give him an idea of Taeyong’s and Doyoung’s whereabouts…  

“That’s quite enough, Jun,” a voice sounded then, echoing through the deadly silent ballroom.  

A figure emerged, muscular and clad in black. His hair was smoothed back onto his scalp, revealing a creaseless forehead and bedroom eyes, wide and dark. An easy, light-hearted smile coated his lips and his name flashed in your mind immediately.  

Seungcheol.  

Then you felt a presence at your back, a whiff of spicy cologne and smoke – Taeyong stepped beside you. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, with enough force to blacken your senses for a single second. But Taeyong didn’t look at you, didn’t even graze his fingers against yours, his gaze was fixated on the rival gang’s leader and conman.  

Rage rippled off him – you felt it, Jun felt it, and you reckoned that the entire room felt it too. It was quiet and icy, cold enough to freeze lakes over.  

“We didn’t come to fight tonight,” Seungcheol said then. His voice was deep and rough, embers of arrogant authority sizzling. You cringed and watched the knife at Chenle’s neck.  

“Of course, you didn’t,” breezed Taeyong, his crimson hair smoothed back, emphasizing his elegantly tilted cat-like eyes, flashing, “you hold daggers to princes’ necks for the laugh.”  

Seungcheol let out a deep chuckle and Junhui grinned, tightening his grip.  

“You are slick ones, you know,” the Black Spade’s leader said, leisurely placing his hands in his pockets. A move of superiority. A move of arrogance. “We managed to catch this little one here only, the rest – “  

He looked at you then, his depthless black eyes raking over your form smoothly and you forced yourself not to flinch.  

“– scattered. Like underground rats.”  

As if on command, tiny red dots flashed up on their skin – not yours or Taeyong’s but the others, and it took them a whole ten seconds to realize it.  

And when they did, you managed to grin as if you had been planning it all along.  

“Rats, you say?” you hummed and dared a glance behind Seungcheol and Junhui – where Yukhei was supposed to be but you found nothing other than an empty macaron plate. He managed to get out – through the servant corridors.  

“Let go of the prince, Junhui,” Taeyong said then, his voice barely louder than a faint whisper, but much, much more powerful.  

The conman and his leader exchanged a quick glance before Jun lifted the dagger from Chenle’s neck and pushed the princeling away from him. He stumbled but didn’t fall and his eyes found yours immediately. It took Chenle no time to be at your side, his breathing and legs shaky. You grabbed his wrist and manoeuvred yourself in front of him.  

“Consider this a warning,” Seungcheol murmured then, “we see and hear everything, and remember, the blade of the spade cuts the snake’s head off.”  

You fought the urge to roll your eyes.  

“Just take the rest of your ragtag and fuck off,” grumbled Taeyong and turning on his heels, walked out of the ballroom.  

For a second you held Junhui’s eyes, then turning around you followed your leader, not letting the prince’s hand go.  

You flinched, hard, when the double-winged door banged closed behind your back.  

Three and a half hours, four shots of whisky and an entire pack of cigarettes later your fingers still seemed to tremble, and you considered chopping them off with one of Doyoung’s crooked daggers. This was after you finally stopped running your eyes over your family and the princes, looking for hidden injuries, panicked flashes in the eyes or a shaky breath – which you had found plenty. None of you changed out of your elegant clothing. If someone had walked into the suite with no knowledge or context regarding your history, they would have perceived the situation as something beautifully morbid. Suits were crumpled – the immaculacy only a tell-tale of what was supposed to happen, and the weapons scattered around the velvet sofas did not seem as intimidating as they should have been.

Chenle was sitting on a big, plush sofa – his entire body shaking, sweat dripping off his brows – Renjun and Jungwoo sat by him, encasing him with their bodies, wiping the cold beads from his eyes and neck. You swore you saw Jungwoo’s hand tremble the entire time.  

Johnny ran his fingers through his hair – once brushed elegantly, now hanging low into his brows. His eyes kept going to his youngest brother, guilt glinting there now and then.  

“We were right then,” he murmured, his voice hushed yet it seemed like a shout in the painfully quiet room, “it has been the Black Spade all along.”  

Ten and Jeno exchanged glances and you hummed. The only noise coming out of you since you collapsed onto a couple-sofa with Winwin.  

Maybe that was why Prince Yuta’s sharp eyes cut to your features immediately.  

“Miss Assassin seemed to have a moment there,” you thought he wanted his voice to be threatening and reckoning but you felt nothing other than a hollow sort of static noise.  

Taeyong turned towards the prince before exhaling a thick cloud of smoke that encased his face for a second.  

“She owes no explanation, even for Your Highnesses.”  

“Maybe she doesn’t,” Johnny said, his eyes now set on you hesitantly and you stared back with an empty expression, “but what if it has significance?”  

Doyoung squinted.  

“It doesn’t.”  

“Maybe it does.”  

“Trust me, it does not.”  

Jaehyun drew in a sharp breath.  

You didn’t look at him. Didn’t dare to or didn’t want to, that did not matter. You still felt the warmth of his breath on the tip of your nose.  

“It might have some, though,” you interrupted, and everyone looked at you. Tilting your head back entirely, you rested it against the head of the loveseat and Winwin reached underneath the nape of your neck. You let out a small, thankful smile.  

Sitting in the crossfire of burning gazes, you began to tell a story.  

Everything has a start. The creation of Earth, the start of civilisations, kings and queens begin their lives as toddlers like everyone and everything else. Gangs, mafias don’t emerge the way they are now. They are not born as complete, safe empires. They crawl out as muddy and clawed hands; they pull themselves through sewers and tunnels and they scratch and cut themselves in the process – but it doesn’t matter because the purpose is stronger than the circumstance.  

The journey is long – never ending. Your growth never stops, there is no limit of being better – or worse. And you believe you haven’t gone down the right path. But does being good mean being right? No one knows the answer to that.  

You took a deep, deep breath before starting.

“There hasn’t always been war between the Black Spade and the Diamond Snake. In fact, it started off as something as close as a brotherhood. It crumbled three years ago – I believe people have heard about it. It was all over the media. Before that happened… Dear heavens, we were inseparable, we even thought about merging our gangs. I was nineteen at the time it all fell apart…an age where you ardently believe you are mature enough for whatever might come your way. The age when life seems to throw its heaviest and sharpest stones at you. Three years ago, our family was thriving already…but only because of Seungcheol’s – the Black Spade’s leader’s – help.”

“The Black Spade is a bit older than us. Even though we are around the same age, they began their businesses much earlier. They were already dealing serious things when we only ran around, wreaking havoc, stealing and just…living life at its fullest. In the foulest ways possible. It was Seungcheol who told Taeyong that he should get into similar business like him. I remember, he said something along the lines of: “There is potential in you, brother. Great potential.”  

I was thirteen then. Taeyong was barely sixteen. We admired the way he built up something like a kingdom, we were there when the fundamental stones were placed down. So, we began to do the same. We built up bases, created businesses, recruited people. He stood with us the whole time, helping us, advising when we needed it.  

For two years, everything went smoothly. I was already good at fighting – living on the streets isn’t the best thing for a girl. Especially in that part of the city. But Doyoung and I began to train, to be weapons, irreplaceable assets. We were trained by ex-assassins, spies, conmen, any person who has once been great, and had enough skill and power to make empires crumble into pieces. Working on the streets and in the underworld had its perks.  

During those two years, the two gangs shared dreams. We had great plans…overly ambitious at the time but we were so determined – it was impossible to keep us down, to make us give up on those ambitions. It didn’t stray us that their gang structure was different from what we planned.”  

You inhaled deeply and let out a shaky laugh. Winwin squeezed your shoulder.  

“The Black Spade has a unique way of…working. I will try my best to tell you what I know about it.”  

You looked around the room, sweeping your eyes over the princes and gang members. They huddled around you and drank up each word you said. As you looked at them you realised – for the first time, there was no place for anger, prejudice or even disgust in the room. The princes and gang members sat by each other one by one, brushing shoulders, crossing legs. Not enemies. Something close to acquaintances. Not friends yet, no… but you felt like you were on the right path towards that. Maybe this mission which became a catastrophic mess, the embodiment of your mutual enemy – this was perhaps what you needed most to be pushed together, to begin acting like an alliance instead of two reluctant parties forced into working together.  

You continued with a small, bitter smile and tucked your trembling hands under your thighs.  

“The Black Spade hits and runs, without lingering. When you realize what they have done…you feel numb and out of place. They work and move in sync, through careful planning and execution of strategy. In and out. They work for money, for men of status and they are not afraid to do the dirty work. They work long-term, taking down their prey over periods of times, working their ways into systems and hearts. This is exactly what they were becoming after that year. The inner circle had roles and jobs – just like us. But they are trained to do the dirtiest and foulest of works. We have spies – but they have conmen. Their names are Jeonghan and… and Junhui.”  

You said the last name with a dying breath. Pressure held your throat together as you fought the urge to shake. Winwin’s pinkie finger began to trace calming patterns on your shoulders.  

“They are worse than spies, they don’t get the information like us – by listening carefully and paying attention to details, or even hacking. No. They deceive you; they make you trust them; make you believe that they are more important than what you are truly protecting. They take the information, and they make sure to destroy you afterwards. Slow and steady. That was the path they started to follow. Their ambitions took a dark turn, one we were not willing to follow. Taeyong wasn’t, at least. More complications arose and more fights broke out between the two gangs. The last one was between Doyoung and Wonwoo, one of the Spades’ assassins. It turned bad…Both Yukhei and Taeyong were needed to hold Doyoung back, and Mingyu – another Spade assassin and Seungcheol, their leader, to keep Wonwoo from throwing daggers at Doyoung. It was a mess. Pure chaos.  

That was when things turned around for us, we strayed apart from each other, went on different paths, different parts of the city. After another half a year, we started a race. To see who has more territory, more assets and influence over wealthy people. It was obvious, after a while, that they worked against us on purpose, but it was too late for them. We grew stronger, we knew their ways of working and we developed ours – a new system, something that was unfamiliar for them. That went on for…I believe I was almost eighteen when I met Junhui again. The last time I saw him was two-three years before that.”

Another breath. You felt your heart hammer against your chest as you tried desperately to calm it down by taking deep breaths. But it did not seem to work, and the dress started to feel tighter, more open – too revealing.  

“I’d always found him attractive. So, when we met again accidentally on a mission, where both of us had the same target…those old emotions re-surfaced. For me, at least. One thing led to the other…The next thing I knew I was sneaking out of the Viper’s Pit, our home and headquarters, to meet up with him. I believe the thrill that we were lovers like Romeo and Juliet, from two families who have developed hatred toward one another, fired our emotions up. He was irresistible. I knew I was doing the wrong thing, deep inside me, but I felt like for once, I would be young and foolish. That I could afford it and could get away with it later. That even if it ends, if emotions die or our families find out, we have learned something new from each other, from the whole situation.”  

“So, we continued meeting up. Secret rendezvous. We shared everything. Our pasts, our feelings, our deepest secrets and doubts.  

Then one day, he started asking about things that weren’t related to my own feelings…he asked about the Snakes, first about how my relationship was with them, then slowly about how we work. And I was so in love, I was so sure that he wanted to know where I come from, where and how I live…I gave him everything he wanted to know.”  

You took a breath. Then another. Then another.  

And you swallowed back the lumps in your throat, because thinking about the mistakes you have made was much, much harder than you thought it would be. The barricades, the walls you have placed between your memories and your thoughts seemed to weaken as you talked about him. You saw a mixture of emotions when you looked around the room, ran your eyes through the princes and your family.  

The young princes…their eyes were filled with held back emotions, sympathy and sorrow and something like understanding. They were young, too young to fully understand how it must have felt like to go through these things but…they were smart enough to comprehend other aspects of it. The choices, the danger of trusting and the importance of keeping vital information to yourself. To not let emotions come in the way of that.  

Then you glanced over at the four older royals…their expressions were a haze, a mess of swirling emotions. It was so clear, in that moment, what each of them felt. As if everyone had dropped down their guards along with you.

Prince Johnny swallowed; you saw his throat bob as he looked away from your face – to stare at his own feet instead. Was it pity? You didn’t know, and you weren’t sure you desired to find out. Yuta’s expression was perhaps the most shocking one. He was leaning back on an armchair, his legs crossed and his head resting in his palm. In his eyes – a sharp glint of understanding. His bone-chilling attitude seemed to have melted in that moment. The edge didn’t leave his eyes but was joined with something new. Something soft and forgiving. Prince Jungwoo had a similar calculating look in his sweet, brown eyes. Although he wasn’t looking at you only. His eyes kept sweeping over your family, their expressions while listening to your story. The big picture.  

Finally, you let yourself glance at Prince Jaehyun.  

He stared at you, his face radiating nothing but pure curiosity and painful realisation - the information seemingly took its place in his brain like the piece of a puzzle. The key to the lock. They understood where you were getting at. They knew what it cost you to love a rival.  

Your voice descended into a quiet, but steely whisper.  

“After I learned all the things he’d done, how he used me for the information…I visited their nest. The Spades’ nest.”

And when you looked up again, you felt like the entire weight of a cliff rolled off your shoulders.

“And I burned it to the ground.”  

“You shouldn’t have shared this much.”  

These were Ten’s first words, barely a minute after the princes left Taeyong’s suite, with something like incredulous haze dwelling in their eyes. Your story was followed by a heavy silence, and you noted the quiet tears in Jaemin’s eyes. He was the most reluctant to leave, but Jaehyun pulled him along gently with a last look at you over his shoulder. You met his gaze. And let it linger.  

You slid your eyes towards the spy, and it barely surprised you how much energy you had to muster for it.  

“I placed the youngest prince in danger. I owed them this much.”  

Ten clicked his tongue.  

“You could’ve told them all this with half as much detail. Something about you and the Black Spade conman fucking, him betraying you and you taking revenge. It would’ve also taken less time.”  

Winwin groaned.  

“Why is it that when you open your mouth, only negative things manage to leave through it?”  

“You’re one to talk.”  

Kun interrupted, “We need them to trust us.” He shot you an approving look before frowning.  

“You did not have motives other than that, right Z?” he looked at you more carefully.  

“Of course, I didn’t, what are you talking about?” you murmured and stared at the ceiling in a rather determined manner. Jeno sat up straighter.  

“Oh my god, is it because of one of the princes? You like one of them?” he grinned, his eyes contracting into half-moons.  

“How did you come up with that? What does it have to do with it all? I don’t like anyone,” you hissed at no one in general. But that wasn’t enough for your family, who had entered a state of frenzy.  

“It’s Johnny, isn’t it?” Winwin glanced down at you, his lips tightened so he doesn’t burst out laughing.  

“No what the fuck, Win -”  

“I mean I wouldn’t blame you,” Ten shrugged and you arched one of your freshly plucked eyebrows. You did not like the direction of the conversation.  

“You have a daddy kink, don’t you Z? And Johnny is the daddy,” Yukhei was nodding deep in thought, as if he was a doctor writing a prescription for you. You gaped again.  

“Excuse me – “  

“No, I think Johnny is way too soft to be a daddy,” Doyoung shook his head and the others murmured in agreement. You were at a loss for words. Just minutes ago, you were discussing your tragic past love-story and now they were dissecting the chances of who you might fancy and their kinks-  

“Nah,” Taeyong spoke up then, the one who did not render his eyes from your face ever since you finished talking about Junhui, “I don’t think it is Johnny.”  

Whipping your head at your leader you shot him a betrayed look. He just stared at you with ever-knowing eyes.  

“You don’t like anyone,” he tilted his head and placed his chin in his palm, “but you do find one of them fascinating, don’t you, dear?”  

You squinted.  

“You wouldn’t know – “  

“Yes, I would,” Taeyong’s voice was hard and you clumped your mouth shut, “I have known you your entire life. Gives me enough time to figure you out.”  

Shrugging, you hoisted yourself up from the sofa and stalked towards the door. You needed sleep. A day’s worth, at least. You didn’t want to listen useless talk.  

“Z, wait,” Taeyong called after you regretfully. Tightening your grip on your heels, you turned around, glanced at your leader, at the rest of the Diamond Snake.  

“Stay here for the night, please. Everyone will.”  

He hesitated, as if saying these words caused him physical pain. He was disappointed, too. Shaken up by the night’s events like the rest of you. On the edge.  

“I don’t think it is…safe yet. For us to walk around here alone. We also heard Seokjin’s words – about his office being near here. And he disappeared along with the Spades. No one knows where he might be, what he might be planning along with these little shits.”  

You saw his point, and you hated to admit that you agreed with him. A part of you wanted to say that you’re fine off alone, that you can protect yourself… but tonight’s events upset you, too. The moment of realisation, while Seokjin held your hair wrapped around his finger, that you knew nothing, that you stalked straight into a trap in golden stilettos. And that you had no idea.  

With a sigh, you dumped your heels back on the ground.  

“Fine. But I want the bed.”  

Tae let out a sigh of relief.  

But not even the soft privilege of the bed was enough to lull you into sleep that night.  

The next few days, most of your group retreated into a nerve-wrecking calm, even Yukhei was quieter and less lively than usual. It was nice to see that you were not alone in this pit of…lethargic feelings because of the ball. The next week was spent in solitude, the entire inner circle gathering up in Taeyong’s suite, eating and sleeping together. If anyone else saw you, they would have straight up called you miserable. The usual teasing, yelling and disastrous attitude towards the cleanliness of the place was nowhere to be seen.  

“We haven’t been that lucky while being here, have we?” Doyoung piped up one evening, with Taeil and yourself sitting on the balcony, smoking in silence. You placed your legs in Taeil’s lap.  

“What do you mean?” the eldest of the group asked as he smashed the remnants of his cigarette.  

Doyoung shrugged.  

“Well, look at the first mission. That wasn’t carried out so well either,” his voice sounded sarcastically cheerful, but you caught the tone of disappointment. Doyoung has always been the type to be adamant on succeeding on the events and actions and whatever objective you had in mind. You hardly failed. And it has never happened two times in a row, until now.  

You wanted to say something soothing, but the words got caught in your mouth.  

Taeil drew circles absently on the skin of your ankle.  

“Well the first mission was good to earn the Royals’ trust, no?” he said then. The raven assassin inclined his head.  

“Yeah, but Z got injured,” he countered, and you groaned, “so the two cancels itself out.”  

Taeil chuckled.  

“Based on what?”  

“PEMDAS?”  

You chucked the pack at Doyoung’s head. He threw it right back.  

“We have to come up with something. We can’t keep going on like this,” you said after tugging out a new piece from the pack.  

“What do you mean?”  

“I feel like we have been feeling around in the dark so far. We weren’t sure who stood behind the attacks, we could only play a role as bodyguards. But now we know it is the Black Spade for sure. Just think, what would we do normally?” you straightened up while talking, folding your legs underneath yourself.  

“We need to sniff around the Spades… find out the location of their headquarters, their current customers and deals,” Taeil caught up with your thinking and you nodded.  

Doyoung’s eyes shone as he leaned forward.  

“On the other hand, we need to get ready for any following attacks. We need to recruit more Snakes for this job, the inner circle can’t stay the only ones working on this case,” he thought out loud, “Ask for a new place from the Royals, and no one should know about it… not even the princes. Then we need to visit the Headquarters, see who can be used for the job. And then we need spies stuck onto the Spades… but I’m not so sure about that. Remember what happened last time?” he grimaced.  

You shuddered as you recalled what happened the first and last time you set three of your spies onto the Black Spade. You could hardly identify them two days later, when you found them at an abandoned bus stop by an empty road.  

Taeil let out a pained sigh.  

“That means we will need to hire someone who does not belong to us and is further independent from other gangs… and who knows how things work in the Underworld, knows people, has connections… Doyoung, all the people who would be perfectly up for the job belong to us.”  

“Not really,” you spoke up then, a triumphant grin stretching on your face, “there is someone who would be perfect for the job. Or more like someones.”  

Doyoung’s mouth hanged open after a minute of silence.  

“Z no. I don’t want to see those little shits ever again.”  

You slammed your hands on the arms of the wooden chair and shooting up on your legs, you smashed the cigarette that was not done simmering.  

“Z yes. I’m gonna talk to Tae. Call the rest of the Snakes together,” was all you said before you hurried inside the suite.  

Luckily, all of the members were inside already. You agreed not to roam around at night, especially alone, so it became a fixed routine, that all the Snakes are back in the suite around early evening, doing their own things, scattered around the place.  

As usual, Jisung and Winwin were on the floor in one of the living room’s corners, surrounded by cables and computers. Ten, Jeno and Yukhei were watching a video on one of their phones – something violent, judging by the crashing sounds blasting on full volume. Taeyong and Kun were bent over a pile of papers, thrown messily around on the coffee table. You sauntered over.  

“I have an idea.”  

Both of them flinched at the unexpected voice and the victorious cheer it held. Kun squinted.  

“What have you cooked up now, Z?”  

You jerked your head towards the couches and armchairs arranged into a half circle in the middle of the living room. That area became the core of the preparations, the talks, the planning.  

Shortly after the Snakes got comfortable, you began sharing your idea. Summing Taeil’s, Doyoung’s and your own ideas, you drew up the problems that you stand against – and how you should solve them. The attitude you should adjust to. When you finished with the problem-solution speech, you went quiet, waiting to see if they followed you, to see if they understood.  

After a beat of silence, Yukhei’s head shot up.  

“You’re gonna suggest we talk to the Shenanigans?”  

Taeyong’s eyes widened. Winwin let out a sound that might have been called a whimper. Jeno and Jisung grinned.  

You nodded.  

“I say we talk to the Shenanigans. Listen, if anyone knows the Underworld and its dealings better than us and other gangs, it’s them,” you ran your eyes over the members.  

“They are so disrespectful,” Doyoung whined.  

“What do you expect from a bunch of outcast kids?” Jeno shot back before looking at you and Jisung, who hasn’t said anything the entire time.  

“I like Z’s idea. I’m in. And you know what guys? You old people won’t even need to see them. Jisung and I can go talk with them, we are the same age anyways.”  

You let out an impressed hum and swung your legs over into Yukhei’s lap.  

“The two of you is not enough. You need more people, so maybe you should take Yukhei as well. They seemed to like him last time,” Taeyong tilted his head, “maybe you could bring the young royals with you too.”  

“Okay no need to go overboard now – “Kun spoke up, but you interrupted him.  

“Wicked. I like it. And maybe one elder for added authority and to show it’s a serious case.”  

“No more adults though. Yukhei and an older royal is borderline intolerable for the Devil’s spawns,” Doyoung drawled as he ran through a hand through his hair.  

Everyone looked at Taeyong, waiting to see what he says. Jeno and Jisung exchanged a quick glance and Yukhei played with the nail polish on your toes. You could see your leader mulling over the exchanged ideas and propositions, saw him weigh each of them.  

“We will need to execute these things as quickly and as quietly as we can,” he murmured then, drawing his cut eyebrow up. Kun and Taeil agreed with grunts of their own.  

“Then we will need to divide ourselves and the royals up. One team goes to the Viper’s Pit to recruit more Snakes, the other team goes with the young princes to talk to the Shenanigans,” you jerked your head towards Jeno and Jisung.  

Taeyong straightened up and said, “okay,” before heading towards the phone on the nightstand by the bed.  

Before you knew it, you were on your way to Prince Johnny’s suite with Taeyong and Doyoung flagging either side of you. Following the eldest prince’s instructions, you ducked into a hidden pathway that connected all the wings of the palace and was kept a secret even from most of the servants. It is the safest mean of travel for all of us from now on, he said.  

You chuckled to yourself as you listened to the loud echoes of your breaths with your leader and your fellow hitman. When exactly did you get to the point where you were allowed to visit the private suite of the Crown Prince? And exactly when did the royals stop worrying about the fact that with a single movement you could hurt them in unimaginable ways? You wanted to add ‘without feeling remorse’ but…that would have been a blatant lie.  You wiped the thoughts out of your brain.  

“Did you tell him to get the princes together?” Doyoung whispered over your head to Taeyong, who nodded in response.  

The walls around you were painted hastily in old fashion, and because of the damp, it started to fall off in some places.  

“Ceremonious,” Doyoung groaned as he inched sideways into a corner, so that he wouldn’t touch the blight, “is this really the means by which we’re gonna have to move around in the palace?”  

“Since when are you such a diva?” Taeyong murmured and you snickered.  

“He’s always been like this. How can you forget it?” you countered, then shuddered when a cold breeze kissed the back of your neck. Placing your hands in the pockets of Yukhei’s hoodie, you hurried your steps.  

“It’s getting colder here. Let’s hurry.”  

In about five minutes you arrived at the Crown Prince’s suite and as soon as Doyoung lifted his hand to knock, the door swung open. Johnny had a slightly dishevelled look, but you didn’t have time to observe him because he ushered you inside with hurried, frantic movements. With a frown, all three of you stepped inside the –  

You had no words.  

You had gone speechless.  

You doubted you had the appropriate vocabulary to describe the eldest prince’s suite.  

Staring, you took in the spotless interior. The walls were ivory white, and the entire place had a theme of black and white. The entrance led to a small foyer, where there was a spacious closet in which you could place your shoes and coats. He then led you into the living room and as you walked inside you could feel your feet sinking into the soft, white carpet that covered the entirety of the room. You wanted this material at your place too. You were going to have to Taeyong about it later on. The living space was huge. Enormous.  

There was a spacious kitchen to your right, as you stepped inside, and to your left – half of the living room was sunken into the floor, with a circle of black velvet couches, providing an intimate and cosy atmosphere to the people sitting there.  

It was so luxurious and clean, you felt reluctant to touch anything so you wouldn’t smear …. yourself on it. This was ridiculous.  

There are people on the street, you thought, who are starving and begging for money every day and these people have half their living room sunken inside the floor?  

You heard a low scoff beside you and concluded that Doyoung must have had similar thoughts.  

“Do you think the toilet flushes itself here?” he murmured into your ear and you had to clamp your hand to your mouth, so you don’t snort out loud.  

“Make yourselves at home,” Johnny said then and gestured towards the couches, “The others are here.”  

Indeed, the princes were scattered around the circle, wearing casual clothes. Yet again, you were glad that you wore a hoodie and sneakers instead of a full body tunic and heels. It would have been a little overkill. Placing your hands back inside the pockets, you stalked towards the royals, Tae and Doyoung following.  

Yuta, who had his back to you, turned around then, and glared your way.  

“We do have things to do, you know. You can’t just order us around to your conveniences.”  

Doyoung glared right back.  

“If it concerns your survival, damn yes we can order you around Highness. Unless, you find pompous meetings with ass-lickers more important than your skin, you are obliged to do nothing of course.”  

You clamped your mouth shut when you saw the expression on Yuta’s face. But he didn’t say anything else. That was perhaps the courtesy of Jaehyun, who placed his hand on his brother’s arm. You noted that his face was grimmer than usual and the skin under his eyes were a shade darker than usual. Not that you’ve observed him before.  

The other princes were sitting seemingly relaxed, chatting casually, but you caught their eyes following your every movement. Oh well. Turns out you generalised the thought that they began trusting you. Putting a light swagger in your step you flashed them a grin.  

The three of you sat on a segment that was left empty by the princes.  

You caught Jaemin’s eyes and he gave you an eye-smile.  

“So, what is the reason for this emergency call-together?” Johnny asked as he leaned forward.  

“We came to share an idea and plan we just came up with. We thought it was an emergency because it is important that we take action as soon as we can,” Taeyong said with authority in his voice. He smoothed his flaming hair out of his forehead and ran his eyes over the royals, “we will need to involve Your Highnesses in the implementation of the next task.”  

Jungwoo tilted his head, “which would be?”  

Doyoung took over.  

“Our team will have to be divided into two. We know that the previous missions resulted in more failure than success because how little men and information we had.”  

“One of the teams will have the task of heading to the Diamond Snake headquarters, the Viper’s Pit, and the other team will have to take a small trip outside the city to talk with the Shenanigans,” you explained, placing your chin on the back of your hand. You fought the urge to cringe from having all the princes’ eyes fixated on you. Especially now, after you spilled so many things from your past. Ten was right. You shouldn’t have said so much. The last thing you needed from them was their pity.

“Who are the Shenanigans?” Mark piped up, pushing his circular glasses up on his nose.  

Doyoung hissed, “A group of little fu – “  

“The Shenanigans are a group of boys,” you interrupted him with a pointed look in his direction, “they are a fairly young group who were outcasts. I wouldn’t say they are a gang or mafia because they don’t do dealings or jobs for higher class people. But they know how the Underworld works, where you can find gangs, mafias, how you can get to them. They know how to get information without anyone noticing, they are exceptional at blending in and working their ways through crowds and events.”  

“What is our role?” a low baritone voice spoke up then, sending chills down your spine. You glanced in Jaehyun’s direction but avoided eye contact. Taeyong took over.  

“We would divide both our inner circle and You Highnesses. The younger ones – Princes Mark, Renjun, Jaemin, Donghyuck and Chenle would be accompanied by Prince Jaehyun and Yukhei, Jeno and Jisung from our team. It is known that the Shenanigans don’t take too much liking to older people. We are certain that they have taken a liking to Jeno and Jisung because they are the same age, and also Yukhei who is…Yukhei, and he is liked by anyone. We thought to add Prince Jaehyun as well to take extra caution. One adult wouldn’t hurt anyone. That is, if it is alright with Your Highness,” your leader finished with a long breath.  

Jaehyun thought for a while and glanced at Johnny. There was a wordless conversation between them – something most siblings shared. You knew the feeling well.  

“Alright,” he said then, “I will go with them.”  

The young princes nodded vehemently. Their eyes shone brightly, and it made you believe that they were enthusiastic about having a chance to go on a mission and not staying in the shadow of their older brothers. You smiled at Jaemin who returned it with a wide grin of his own.  

Taeyong inclined his head.  

“Prince Jaehyun and our Jeno will then join the other team at the Viper’s Pit. We will be heading to the headquarters, as we mentioned earlier, to talk with the rest of the Diamond Snake members and recruit people who are trustworthy and fit for the job. The people going there will be Z, Kun, Ten, Princes Johnny, Jungwoo, Yuta and myself. We will need to stay there for a couple of days to make sure everything goes smoothly and without complications.”  

“What about the rest of your gang?” Yuta drawled.  

“I will need to stay here, as I am the Taeyong’s Second,” Doyoung answered, unfazed by Yuta’s icy tone, “Winwin will monitor everything from his computers and Taeil will assist me in sorting through materials for the next mission and other precautions we will need to take.”  

“Precautions?” Johnny asked. Taeyong nodded.  

“We were not careful enough previously. No mistake like that will happen ever again.” his voice held solid authority, even when he apologised. In his own way.  

The princes were quiet for a while, each deep in his own thought and the three of you waited patiently. Somewhat. Doyoung kept playing with the embroidery on one of the pillows until you slapped his hand away. He was this close to tearing it.  

Then to your surprise, Yuta spoke up.  

“When are we leaving?”  

The following morning’s cold breeze sent shivers down Jaehyun’s spine. He groaned as he pulled the covers further up on himself, so it was only his eyebrows and the top of his ruffled hair that was visible. Yuta had stayed in his suite for a long time the day before and honestly, now he wished he had kicked his brother out sooner than three in the morning. He gave himself three more minutes of snoozing, though he was everything but relaxed. Jaehyun knew that if he actually relaxes in that time period, he’s going back to sleep for the next couple of hours.  

With another groan he fought the covers back and sat up. He was not a morning person, and on some days, he was thankful that he was a prince with duties, otherwise he would have wasted his entire life lying in bed all day. It was 7.35 by the time he flung his jacket over his black button-up and left to join his brothers and the three Snakes at the circular driveway of the castle.  

He saw that his younger brothers had taken up on his advice the previous night - that wearing something casual but elegant might be the golden middle way, to stay true to themselves without offending the Shenanigans – who openly judged adults and lived life by their own rules. Unapologetically. He’s done all the research he could last night with Yuta, but this was all he could find online, in the darkest pits of the internet. He will have to interrogate Jeno more on who exactly they were going to see.  

The youngsters set a great tone, his brothers were joking around with the Snakes, and as he headed over to them, occasionally he heard Chenle’s high-pitched giggles and Yukhei’s boisterous laughter. There were only three bulletproof-ed cars waiting for them, not a police car or motorbike could be seen anywhere near them. Interesting. The first one to notice him was Mark. The younger one tilted his head to the side, so his light brown locks fell over his brows.  

“Brother,” he said as a way of greeting, “we were waiting for you. I thought we agreed to meet at 7.30?” his voice was not accusatory, only confused. Jaehyun sighed as he raked his fingers through his hair and glanced back at the castle.  

“Yuta came over to mine at ten.”  

Mark’s mouth shaped a silent ‘o’ and he nodded understandingly. He knew that if Yuta visited someone…it led to a discussion that went on for hours at least.  

Jeno stalked over and Jaehyun had to fight down the urge to wince. The Snake’s steps were near silent, even on the pebbles of the driveway, and he moved with serpentine grace. It sent chills down Jaehyun’s spine.  

“Are we ready to go?” he asked and cast an eye-smile at Jaehyun, “I just told your brothers that we will be divided into three, so we fit into the cars. Princes Jaemin and Donghyuck will be with Yukhei. Mark and Renjun will be going with our Jisung and Your Highnesses Jaehyun and Chenle are with me.”  

Mark and Jaehyun nodded and a quiet voice in the back of Jaehyun’s mind told him that he should consider himself to be lucky – one Snake in one car, and two Royals with them. If it came to anything unfortunate…no. It is not the time to think about betrayals or conspiracies. The Snakes were there to protect them. Not to divert the cars and crash.  

So, he followed Jeno to the car at the very front and with a reluctant gaze, he waited until all his brothers were inside. And then he got in.  

“I’m really excited,” Chenle said as soon as he buckled himself in, “I have heard more about the Shenanigans after yesterday.”  

Jaehyun flicked his eyebrows up and looked at Jeno who was sitting at the passenger seat. The motor whirred into life underneath them.  

“You have?” he asked his youngest brother. Chenle grinned at him, his eyes narrowing into cheerful slits.  

“Yeah! Jeno, do you want to tell Jaehyun more about the Shenanigans?” he grabbed the seat in front of him and leaned as far as his belt allowed him. Jeno shifted so he was sitting sideways and could look at them both.  

“What has Your Highness heard so far?” his voice was casual but his ebony gaze penetrated Jaehyun. The prince shrugged.  

“Not much. I have done a little research. The only thing I know from the internet is that the Shenanigans are rather young, and they don’t take kindly to adults.”  

Jeno nodded.  

“They are known as outcasts, kids who had nowhere to go because no one wanted to take them in, but that is a false myth. They have taken up the role of outcasts on their own will. The boys who join the Shenanigans were once abused by their families. Parents, mostly,” he’d glanced at Jaehyun who forced a mask of calm on his features, “many young people know about the Shenanigans, some consider them a legend, a myth, though. Too good to be true. The ones who were able to stand up to their parents and leave – or get away one way or another, searched for the group. But they were never successful. Instead it was the Shenanigans who found them.”  

Chenle squirmed in his seat but Jaehyun tried to hide his astonishment. To be able to stand up to abusive parents…and leave. How brave does one have to be? How bad does the abuse have to be in order to make teenagers flee their home? Jaehyun shuddered.  

“The Shenanigans are the modern Robin Hoods for the young generation that has lost hope and are scared to stand up for themselves. They embody freedom and independence. Defiance. Us, the gangs and mafias…we are tied down by our businesses, by deals and bets.”  

Jaehyun placed his elbow on the windowsill as he listened to the young spy. He felt like he was beating around the bush.  

“What is it that they do?” Jaehyun asked and Jeno’s eyes cut to him as he gave him an eerie grin.

“They do many things. Firstly, they defy the gangs. They refuse to swear loyalty to any of them other than themselves. Secondly, they steal. They steal from the higher ups. Lastly, they gather information about everyone and everything. Nothing misses their eyes and when I say all the gangs have been trouble figuring out how they do it, I don’t exaggerate. It is impossible to get a hold of them.”  

There was pride in Jeno’s voice and maybe a little longing. Jaehyun wasn’t exactly sure. Chenle looked at him with bright eyes.  

“Aren’t they terrific? Donghyuck and Jaemin and the others think so too.”  

The eldest frowned.  

“Why do they steal? And what do they do with the money?”  

The spy shrugged and laughed quietly.  

“I have absolutely no idea,” he mused, “it is their business. We haven’t tried figuring it out.”  

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, neither of them talking. Jaehyun caught Chenle smiling softly as he stared out through the windows and it didn’t take him a lot of work to figure out why. The last thing we need is a national scandal that the youngest prince has joined a bunch of thieves, he thought bitterly.  

He had to admit, the Shenanigans did sound appealing to a certain extent. To be free of all duties, to swear loyalty for no one but your family and friends…to be independent from it all. Curiosity burned in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to know more. He wanted to see it all. See how mafias operated, the deals, the missions – even the assassinations, as morbid as it sounded.  

His thoughts screeched to a halt and changed directions. Assassins… he thought of her, with teeth made of razors and eyes like simmering embers. Was she abused as well? Did she have to run away? Or was she born into it all? He thought of the times he watched her train – the way she moved. The sharpness and the precision – the same serpentine grace he saw and still sees in the other members of the Diamond Snake. But it was training – he longed to see it all in action. He longed to see her lunge and twist and stab and – why the fuck was he thinking about all this? Since when did he want to see someone end lives?  

But a voice whispered to him; she is not all edge and defiance.  

He thought of the look on her face when she saw the Black Spade conman with Chenle in the middle of the dancefloor that night…remembered his own rage and how he was glued to the floor, unable to move, to think. How he lost control and went with the flow. Got lost in it. And how she did not. He remembered the way her eyebrows spiked up in that pure, horrified expression. And the way it cleared out in the span of a single second, morphing into a look of murderous calm and arrogance. How she did not let go of his youngest brother’s hand until they were out of sight.

As he stared at splotches of green, orange and yellow passing by, he realised he knew nothing.  

That there was more underneath it all. Hearing her story about the conman and the intertwined history of the two biggest rivalling gangs of the country showed them all, him and his brothers, that there was so much more to these criminals.  

That there is a reason for why things happen. How people turn out to be.  

And how wrong they were for judging them.  

But then again, what if they chose this path…?  

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Jeno looked back with a surprised look.  

“Something wrong?”  

Jaehyun shook his head and sighed.  

“Just…there’s a lot on my mind,” a blatant understatement. The spy tilted his head as he continued to look at him with calmly. Calculating. Wondering. Jaehyun avoided his gaze. Tried not to cringe when Jeno smirked.  

“We are almost there,” was all he said before turning back.  

“Where are we meeting them?” Chenle piped up and leaned forward.  

“Outside the capital. That is all you need to know,” he looked back at the eldest from the corner of his eyes, “you can trust us. There is no conspiracy. If that’s why your head is so heavy, Your Highness.”  

Jaehyun didn’t know whether to feel insulted or amused.  

The warehouse by which they stopped, was gigantic, and isolated. Both irked Prince Jaehyun. It was ran-down, rusty and almost fell apart and he saw nothing or no one that would have indicated that the Shenanigans were there, waiting for them.  

As he stepped out of the car, a breeze of the early autumn air ruffled his hair. He took a deep breath. It has been a long while since he visited the outskirts of the capital – or the countryside, and he needed to take a moment to take in the solemnity and quietness of it all.  

“Oi, Chenle, I got fucking chills!”  

As soon as Donghyuck’s voice got to him, Jaehyun’s eyes snapped open. In the span of seconds, ten forms of irritation ran through his brain as he swirled in his brother’s direction. Then froze as he saw the way Donghyuck bounced in his youngest brother’s and Jeno’s direction – and threw his arms around both of them. Jaemin joined him from Jeno’s side. In the friendliest of manners. Without hesitation. Jaehyun could only gape as he looked around for someone who could be as outraged as him but…  

Mark got out of the third car along with Renjun and both of them were listening intently to something Jisung was murmuring to them. Nothing on their faces other than concentration and fascination as clear as the pond nearby.  

His eyes found Yukhei’s, and found the arsonist already looking at him. Yukhei gave him a challenging grin.  

Look what happens when status and prejudice doesn’t get in the way.

Jaehyun felt his ears warm up and he cleared his throat.  

Their steps were quick as they neared the doorless entrance of the warehouse, the younger ones leaving Jaehyun and Yukhei behind. The Snake had long, lazy steps, as if he was never in a hurry, had all the time in the world. Jaehyun, on the other hand, was tense as always when it came to a sudden meeting with a bunch of criminals. He had just started getting used to the Diamond Snake. He had to get his mind off this.  

“It’s curious,” he turned to Yukhei, “how you and my brother Mark are almost the same age, yet he doesn’t count as an elder like you do.”  

Yukhei shrugged and his eyes widened with a mischievous glint.  

“I guess it counts a little different. Your brother is seen mostly around the young ones and they seem to give off a really harmonised vibe, if Your Highness gets what I mean. Meanwhile I am a part of the inner circle, the oldest and most trusted part of the Diamond Snake gang. I guess that puts a little more to my age.”  

Yukhei glanced at the prince who watched him carefully.  

“Y’know, there is more to age than just numbers. Our family prefers not to distinguish based on age. That barely gives you valuable assets. Look at our Jisung. He’s a teenager, like Jeno, they would still be in high school… but they’ve been through things, Prince. Terrible things. And that makes them cautious, makes them listen and work hard so they do not have to endure those things again.”  

Jaehyun swallowed and had the same chill run down his spine when he heard the story of the Shenanigans. He dared not to ask what the two youngest members of the inner circle went through. He stayed silent and gave an understanding nod to Yukhei.  

The arsonist gave him an encouraging grin and lifted his arm, as if he wanted to slap Jaehyun in the back but he decided otherwise and dropped it. A pang of disappointment hit the prince.  

As they stepped through the eerie opening of the warehouse, many things came into Jaehyun’s mind. The first being that the warehouse was actually not empty and abandoned; it was filled with iron containers of many sizes, having gods know what inside them. The second was the stuffy smell, nearing on mouldy, and suddenly he did not want to know what was inside those containers.  

The third was that other than the two people sitting by a table in the middle of the main paved way through the containers, there was no one else.  

As Jaehyun looked closer, there were a bunch of chairs in front of the single table, Jeno and Jisung leading his brothers straight for them. He opened his mouth to object but Yukhei placed a hand on his shoulder.  

They stopped a few feet away from the chairs, giving Jaehyun time and space to take in the two figures waiting for them.  

The one who was sitting on a wooden chair was clad in a leather jacket, jeans and black combat boots. His hair was a tousled, curly mess of dark blond and his mouth was quirked in a pleasant, almost welcoming smile. His head was tilted, watching them carefully.  

Jaehyun fought his eyebrow so it doesn’t shoot up in the skies.  

The other person, the one who perched on the edge of the table, gave off a more mysterious and serious aura – this one reminded Jaehyun of the Snakes. The man – boy? – was not smiling like his partner, he had his eyes set dead on the princes entering. His arms were crossed tightly, but his legs were hanging loosely on the edge of the weathered table. He was clad in black, similarly to the other person, even his hair, which was so dark it was almost blue. His fingers were adorned with rings, all silver, all capable of leaving a nasty mark if he was to punch someone. He was not smiling. There was nothing on his face other than…boredom? He seemed bored out of his mind, even as his eyes zig zagged between the younger princes.

Only two? I thought there were more people in the Shenanigans’ group. Did they just send representatives?  

Yukhei must have noticed Jaehyun’s confused glare because after nudging him, he nodded his head around them, towards the top of the containers. Following his nod, Jaehyun looked and his heart almost stopped.  

From the shadows and darkness, without a sound, figures emerged.  

They were everywhere, scattered around the warehouse, on tops of the containers, between them, hiding out in the shadows. They stood still. They only watched. But it gave Jaehyun the impression that if he was to do anything reckless, they would not hesitate to lunge down, up onto him. He placed his hands deep into his pockets so he wouldn’t loosen his shirt that suddenly felt a bit too tight.  

Then the blond one spoke up, with a voice surprisingly soft and pleasant.  

“Jeno,” he said, “it has been a while. You got us all worried with your absence.”  

The spy smiled and his eyes scrunched up into their usual moon slits. He lifted his hand slightly to stop the younger princes a step away from the chair laid out. Yukhei and Jaehyun did not go nearer, and there was a container’s length left between them and the others.  

“You out of everyone should know, that it is way too difficult to get a hold of you, Chan.”  

Chan laughed, his plump lips widening.  

“I would have thought that the infamous Diamond Snake spies would at least try. We might have let you, right Minho?” he glanced up at his partner. The boy, Minho, only gave Chan a quick glance before continuing to observe them, but his arms loosened a bit.  

“How rude of me,” Chan continued as he finally stood up, and waved at the chairs, “please, guests, sit down.”  

Then, for the first time, Jaehyun thought, he looked over at the eldest prince and Yukhei. After giving a quick nod and a flash of a smile to Yukhei, Chan’s eyes settled on Jaehyun.  

“I’m afraid we have no more chairs. I hope that is not taken as personal insult to the throne,” his eyes did not leave Jaehyun’s and his voice suddenly took on a mocking, challenging tone. Jaehyun did not break his look away from his.

“By all means,” he said coolly, “pretend I am not here. I have no role in this meeting other than being an elder brother.”  

Chan held his gaze for a second and then his smile went back to warm.  

“Perfect. Now, let me introduce myself and my boys,” he sat back down and casually waved his hand around, “My name is Chan and I am the leader of the Shenanigans. I welcome you princes, Snakes.”  

His eyes ran through the boys perching on the chairs. Jaehyun could swear Chenle and Donghyuck shook slightly from excitement.  

“This here is Minho, my Second and my advisor,” he continued, “and soon, if the situation demands, I’ll call the others forward. But that’s it for now.”  

Jeno grinned and Jisung smirked at Chan, who leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees.  

“Now tell me,” he breathed, “the reason why you called us together.”  

[nade2308]

First Lines of Last 20....

Guidelines: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20,  just list them all.) Choose your favorite opening line, tag some friends!

Tagged by @impossiblepluto. Thanks friend!

(And just as always, I deviate from the mold and I give you more than just the first lines and/or my favorite lines 😈)

1. You don't know you are beautiful

Jack was so pissed. He was thrumming with nervous energy and was itching for a fight. Especially with that good for nothing, piece of shit, pretentious and pompous guy they were sent to retrieve because he had valuable intel the Phoenix stumbled upon by chance.

2. Catch you when you fall

Scott was always ready to push himself further, just that one step towards the tipping point. He thought if he went harder, and longer, that it will yield better results, but it wasn't always the case. That frustrated him even more and then he was angry at himself for doing that to himself and his friends. And to his dad. His dad who bent himself forwards and backwards to make sure Scott had everything he needed and more.

3. Coming home to you

You know that feeling when you want something so bad, but you have to wait for it? Yeah, Mac was feeling like that now. He was this close to losing it after the op ended. He couldn't wait to get back to Jack. Well, get back to Jack and get laid in the process.

4. "There's still time to change the road you're on"

Jack was in Texas for the birthday of his nephew and it just happened that his nephew was best friends with the kid of one of Jack's old flames. Well, more like a summer relationship, but seventeen year old Jack thought she was it. They had a thing that was actually cute and sweet. He took her out on dates at the local pizza place, and she took him to community events.

5. 98.Separated

Alina Chernyshevsky was a Russian scientist working at a lab in LA, on a scholarship who was kidnapped by a rogue crime group almost a week ago. The Phoenix was tasked with recovering her and capturing any of the members of the group they could find. It turned out that the son of a banker, the daughter of a businessman and the brother and sister, the kids of one of the most powerful Romanian crime groups had one thing in common. They wanted to get out from under the shadow that their parents put them in. So they formed their own union, and thanks to the ties Andrei Bogdan, their leader, had from his father's world, they quickly made their way up in the underground dark world. Climbing up the ladders, they did the odd jobs here and there, hits on important people for hire, and it was based on their combined knowledge of the finances, the system and the law, that they stayed undetected and under the radar for so long. Until Alina discovered some sample or another in the lab that was brought for testing and she made herself a target and was kidnapped in broad daylight.

6. Dye Hard

It wasn't like it was something he was dying to try. He was just looking at pictures of people with wonderfully done hair. Which happened to also be dyed in all the colors of the rainbow and more. It was just research. For an experiment. He was sure he was going to be told off again for experimenting so he kept it just to himself.

7. Sweet child o' mine

Riley woke up to the persistent ringing of her phone. She was having a very nice dream, drinking mai-tai's, at the Hilton Hawaiian Village, and now she was brought back to reality by the shrill tone of her phone.

8. Mac and Jack + softness

They had experienced bad missions before. It wasn't that uncommon, since almost every mission they worked on turned bad real fast. But there were some missions that took bad to the next level.

9. Jack + migraine + birthday

Mac was shivering even with the blanket wrapped around him. They were on their exfil flight, and the heat was on for his sake, but Mac's worry wasn't for himself, but for Jack. Jack, who was squinting at the bright sky and had his head tilted in an awkward angle because apparently he was hurting. And Mac had a pretty good idea what was the cause.

10. 9.Helpless

The drive back to Mac's place was a blur. Jack focused on the road and tried not to think of what they were told or the treatment that might have reversed all of their hard work on making Mac's hands heal and be okay.

11. 72.Painless

When Mac first noticed the car that was tailing him, he was several blocks away from Jack's place. They were supposed to have a movie night with the team, Jack already texted him to tell Mac that Riley was there with him.

12. 26.Flinch

Mac jerked away from the hand that was shaking his shoulder and immediately backed up to the corner of the bed. Someone was talking in a low voice, but Mac was still a bit disoriented and couldn't place the voice. Or the words.

13. 12.Confusion & 26. flinch

When Mac woke up, he could tell that something was different. There wasn't a creepy stare to watch over him, nor the blinking dot on the camera in the corner.

14. 5.Bruised

Jack let his kid take his fill by looking him up and down. Jack knew that he looked a little bit worse for wear, but that was normal in their line of work. This time however, it was from something else. And judging by the way Mac was eyeing him, he didn't manage to hide it well.

15. 56. Begging

Mac wanted to scream. It was hurting him to just breathe, but the pain was unbearable. He didn't know if the lash that caught his side, or the one that split the skin above the small of his back, hurt more.

16. Jack Sr. + Wrist Cuff

It takes all his willpower not to go back to the room he just vacated. He promised Riley and Mac that he'll take a break. It was nonnegotiable. Mac went so far as to tell him to go and take a good sleep. That Mac wasn't going to vanish again. He promised.

17. Fire Pit + Nightmares

Mac didn't know what woke him up. He's sure it was something and not a sound he made up in his dream. Mac turned around in bed and for a moment he was a bit disoriented. He blinked a few times and then looked at the digital watch on his nightstand. It was a little after 2am.

18. "Whenever your world starts crashing down, that's when you'll find me"

"Hours later (Jack's not sure about the time, he left his watch at home) the party is dying down. He is watching the night lights twinkling in the distance, mixed with lights from building windows, and homes and offices. LA is alive as always, traffic present even in this late hour. Everyone knows that NYC is the city that never sleeps, but Jack wants to argue how LA doesn't fall far behind the Big Apple. Especially since Jack has watched this city in all the times of day and night and can attest to that."

19. Si te doy mi corazón, lo tratarás con ternura

1. Tickling

Mac was studying for an exam and Jack was bored. It was one of those days. Really, there was a lot to be done in the house, and Jack barely had a time for himself and Mac these days, but on a rare night where he had absolutely nothing of importance to do… and Jack was bored. 

20. The Center of Their World

Mac was writhing in Jack's lap, and Jack moaned at the drag of Mac's cock against his hip as Jack had Mac's ass spread and a finger inside him already.  He instinctively backed up against the headboard of their ridiculously big bed, and threw his head out because the contact between him and Mac was explosive in the least.

Tagging: @sabbystarlight @82tweeder @dixons-mama @improvidus @panchostokes @erinsworld @nativestarwrites @kerkerian @starryhc @thesammykinz @dont-stop-believin-in-klaine @demonicsoulmates @rai-knightshade @telltaleclerk and whoever sees this and wants to do it, consider yourself tagged.

[gwen-ever]

Only a Man

PART 1/2

A/N: I dont think I need to exaplai why i wanted to write this, i will just say to you that the line Thorin says to Bilbo with Disgust in Laketown “This Master Baggins is the world of Men” helped me a lot. And it was part of the amazing @band--psycho​ challenge for her 1k followers, but i have never had the chance to finish it and as you can see it has a lot to finish. The sentence was “ “It’s pretty hot when you get bossy in bed.” and the character was Thorin...i added a friend lol.

Summary: Thorin needs to talk with Dwalin after a long day, and not finding hium in his chambers he goes to the only place where Dwalin could be, but as soon as he opens the door he undestands why his bestfriend was so hard to find, and he si not happy about it.

Warnings: smut,explicit,threesome,mutual masturbation,consensual Sex,grinding,khuzdul dirty talk,watching Thorin (at first),Ered Luin,young Thorin,young Dwalin,fantastic racism.

Words: 4148

Pairing: ThorinxOCxDwalin

Not a single soul was to be found on the streets of the city carved out of the rock at that late hour. Perhaps he was the only dwarf after all the exhausting hours of that damned day who could still stay awake or find the strength to walk through those narrow tunnels late at night. But because it had been such an exhausting day, he felt the need to get it over with as quickly as possible and to assert his right to throw himself between the sheets of his bed and sleep for the few hours he was allowed to. Talking to that one dwarf, however, seemed an impossible task that night, Dwalin was not at his home. Thorin had spent nearly ten minutes there, knocking incessantly on his door, and so now he found himself walking to the only place Dwalin could be found at that hour: the forges, their forge, the only place in the Ered Luin that they had managed to build without a hitch in the twenty years they had been there, the only place where Thorin could feel a little less like a king in exile than he already did.

After all that time Thorin still felt like one, a young king in exile, even if he was not a king at all. It had only been a few years that they had been in the Blue Mountains, yet, he already felt the weight of time on his shoulders, already felt old even though he was not.

Even though Thorin was not a king, he was treated like one and the dwarrowdams saw him as one.

He had noticed it long ago, how they looked at him, how they longed for him, how after a night spent in the sheets of an inn or at worst pressed up against the rough walls of a corridor, they worshipped him as such. They called him king while he was on top of them and inside of them and he loved it. But then they all ended up wanting more than one night from him, and he wasn't willing to give them that. A wife wasn't something he wanted.  He could do without the warmth of a woman's thighs if it meant bonding and he didn't want to bond, a loss he would never suffer again of that Thorin was sure.

Breathing heavily and now feeling his nerves on edge, he turned his head as he infiltrated the corridors of the market, now completely emptied: the long sheets that decorated the tunnels, from coloured were just bland, dark spots above his head as were the carved windows at the side of the corridors. He turned a corner towards the craftsmen's area and amidst the bluish gloom, a bright light from a window caught his eye, causing him to look up at the only unmarked door in the entire underground marketplace: Dwalin was indeed in the workshop.

What in Durin's name was he doing there in the middle of the night?

Moved by fatigue and impatience, Thorin lengthened his stride, lifting the sleeves of his blue shirt to his elbow, sighing, and without even waiting for a signal or knocking, he opened the door to the forge.

What he saw certainly didn't astonish him, but it did impress him enough to keep his hand clawed at the wooden door handle.

The entire forge was barely illuminated by the orange light from the furnace still crackling at the back of the room, creating sharp shadows on the stone floor and giving him a perfect view of the spectacle that was unfolding on the table at the side of the forge where he worked almost every day.

On the wooden plank next to the anvil, once covered with tools now completely thrown on the floor, two moaning figures were clinging together, rubbing their half-naked bodies against each other and making the wood beneath them creak with every single movement.

Dwalin was holding a woman sitting with her legs spread above the table, clutching at her buttocks under her skirt with both his hands. His tongue almost completely shoved down her throat, while she was moaning softly into his mouth, clutching at his bare ash-stained hips with both her legs. It was not at all difficult for Thorin to notice her hand inside Dwalin's breeches and how it moved slowly up and down, so slowly that the king felt a shiver of frustration run down his spine.  

For some strange and absurd reason, he found himself entranced for the first time by this scene that he had seen happen more than once in other situations with other dwarrowdams, but a sudden low squeak from the woman stopped his gaze on the small naked body clinging to the doubly larger one of his best friend.  

Thorin could not tear his eyes away or even cough to make himself noticeable, he clenched his jaw and his hand around the knob, finding himself subduing a growl in his chest and a heavy breath soon after.

He ran his eye from the small, slow hand hidden inside the brown fabric to her arm exposed by the transparent soutane. He ran his gaze over the full chest clearly visible through the transparent fabric to the backward sloping neck that allowed Dwalin to pounce on one of her breasts like an animal. He bit it with such force that he blocked her hand's movements inside his trousers and made her moan his name in such a sensual way that Thorin could hear that moan inside his loins and in his goal that suddenly became as dry as the crotch of his trousers tight, annoying him.

Damn.

He clenched his legs together, blocking the hand that was already going to rest between them to hide his bulge: now was not the time, there was something else to think about and then he would be going to take a cold bath as soon as Dwalin gave him a look.

But Dwalin didn't seem to cooperate, nor did Thorin's eyes, which widened as the female's back bent backwards, pulling the fabric of her.

petticoat down revealing both of her breasts.

Dwalin squeezed her buttocks, dropping his mouth even further down and grabbing a nipple left bare by the fabric with his teeth, making her almost squeal as he began to torture it with his teeth. And it was at that moment that Thorin had a full view of the face of the creature for whom his friend was not even looking at him: the smooth skin, the taut shoulders, the small neck, the unruly brown hair so long they touched the table, the half-closed eyes filled with small tears, the flushed cheeks devoid of hair, as well as her mouth wide open with pleasure with the outline devoid of any kind of beard.

And it was that last detail that was more powerful than any cold bath ever could have been. Thorin's hand, which by now had moved on its own to his annoying erection grasping it through his trousers, suddenly moved away and clenched into a fist at the side of his thigh. He felt his trousers get looser, the pulse in his throat slow and the disgusting rise.

A human, Dwalin was banging a filthy human inside their forge.

A female human.

He gripped the door handle hard enough to feel it go into the palm of his hand, and violently slammed the door shut behind him, looking away from the human to Dwalin who, unlike him, was far from disgusted as he continued to suck on her breasts as if he were a hungry bairn.

He didn't even seem to realise he'd walked in but knowing the dwarf he knew he'd heard him, but the truth was that for Dwalin, Thorin might as well have been rotting at that moment and the member in his breeches, now so taut it almost hurt under Eyia's attentions, if it could have spoken, he would have told him as much.  Responding to Thorin in the fastest way he knew, he ran his tongue over the taut nipple, running his lips and tongue up the defined line of her shoulder. She began to gasp with impatience and in a moment, he captured her lips again, sinking his tongue back into that tasty palate that tasted like a different fruit every night. At the same time, Eyia's small hand, first resting on his shoulder, gripped his crest, entwining her fingers tightly in his hair, making him roar inside her mouth as she squeezed his member with the same strength.

In Durin's name that human would have driven him mad one of those nights, but to the King of Erebor that little game was beginning to get on his nerves.

Clenching his jaw Thorin walked unconcernedly to the side of the room and without a word sat down with his arms crossed on the wooden chair where he usually threw his dirty clothes after work, apron on the opposite side of the table where that vicious act Dwalin was engaged in was taking place.

"I need to talk to you. " He told him, trying to keep his eyes focused on his friend's profile, who as soon as he noticed his insistent gaze broke away from the human's lips and turned his head towards his own.

"I am a little busy at the moment." He retorted throwing an eloquent look towards his hand around the human woman's outstretched leg and, as if to underline what he meant, the woman rubbed her femininity against Dwalin's thigh meowing like a cat in heat.

Repugnant.

With disgust and indifference, Thorin shook his shoulders letting his back go even further to the chair.

"I can wait." He retorted in Khuzdul not wanting the human to understand one more word from them.

The dwarf warrior gave him a dirty look as soon as Thorin let go of his back to the chair and crossed his arms in anticipation, raising an eyebrow wryly: he couldn't even for once give him a freaking hour off, all that work would kill him sooner or later as well as his composure and that damned look of indifference.

Dwalin had to bite his lip, holding back a groan between his teeth as Eyia's small fingers moved up his member until they grazed his tip. Slowly she began to stroke it with small concentric gestures which she began to imitate with slow movements of her pelvis making him feel how wet she was, riding his leg slowly, moaning into his hear his name and making him hate Thorin insistence even more.

"Do-we-really-need-to-do-this-right-now?" Dwalin roared at Thorin, barely managing to keep his hands fixed on Eyia's thighs in the meantime that she again let her hand go even further down his trousers.

"Dwalin, please." She whispered pleadingly in his ear licking his earlobe rubbing herself against his leg again. "Please."

Following her, with his blue eyes, Thorin let out an annoyed snort as soon as the girl in one smooth movement freed Dwalin's member completely from the fabric of his breeches accompanying him past the loose leather straps caressing his entire length right before his eyes.

"She is human." He pointed wryly, clutching his forearms outstretched at the girl's insolence.

"I know what she is." Dwalin retorted, barely suppressing a groan as Eyia mischievously began to slowly kiss the side of his neck, swiping her wet tongue under the hairline of his beard as fast as she continued to torture his erection.

"Why?" Thorin asked, beginning to grow impatient that the girl didn't even mind his presence and continued unconcernedly, moaning into his friend's chin.

"Why not?"

"Because she is a human!" Thorin roared back, retorting something that was more than obvious to him.

Dwalin rolled his eyes, trying to maintain a modicum of control, which was very easy for him especially if instead of a pair of tits he had to look at Thorin's unyielding face and instead of hearing moans he was instead forced to hear his irritating tone berating him for a problem that had been his and his alone for years.

He knew why Thorin was scolding him: all his life the idiot had lain only with dwarrowdams, as they had all been taught since they were only boys, as the true tradition of their people dictated. But Thorin seemed to be the only one who still followed that idea, and since they had left the villages of Dunland, it was as if that thought had become even more ingrained in him. If only that idiot, bound to his damned traditions had known what it was like to be between their thighs, and Eyia seemed intent on making him understand that or at least make Thorin feel so uncomfortable that he would get them both out of the way.

That was why Dwalin adored her, why he wanted her every night, why he craved her thighs so much that he had rotted the guards at the entrance by paying them to let her infiltrate the halls most nights. That lustful, rebellious human tavern-keeper from that night in the city of men had become his favourite poison, and the taste of her cherry in his mouth had become tastier than any beer he'd ever drunk.

Marred the dwarrowdams and their ostentatious purity and devotion. He adored his human.

"You are too stern, you always are." He scolded Thorin with a hiss but was unable not to sneer as he cast a glance underneath him to the stiff, rosy nipple pressed against his pecs indulging what he already understood to be Y/N's desires. "Have you ever seen one of them without their clothes on?"

With a snort, Thorin rolled his eyes again in annoyance. "She is nearly as tall as you."

"Only if you keep staring and trust me it's the last thing ya notice when you are on top of them or...behind them." Dwalin snickered, looking him straight in the eye even as he slowly moved up to Eyia's shoulder, kissing her as she reached up to his ear, biting it under the earring.

"He is boring you were right." A single whisper that made him grin against her rosy skin and made him make perhaps the rightest decision of his entire life.

Dwalin licked his lips as he continued to look at Thorin, and with a sharp movement, he passed the hand still clinging to Y/N's leg underneath her petticoat, lifting it all the way up and revealing her open thighs and belly still pressed against the now soaked fabric of his breeches.

Thorin thought still tried not to look, was compelled when he saw Dwalin's hand full of scars, like his own, began to stroke her inner thigh with the back of his hand in front of him. "They have a body as sensitive body as a virgin one. Sometimes I am even afraid of breaking when I touch it. They're the hardest metal I've ever dealt with."

As much as the king had tried to control himself, he couldn't help but bite the inside of his cheek when with the pelvis of the human went for Dwalin's touch again spreading her legs wide just for him.

When Dwalin noticed how Thorin was staring at his hand, he smiled triumphantly: perhaps giving him a little demonstration before blowing him up wouldn't be such a bad idea. The dwarf warrior shifted his gaze from Thorin's increasingly tense face to the face of Eyia resting on his shoulder before he leaned back with his torso from the table, allowing Thorin to see what was to follow.

Slowly he brought his hand up to Eyia's throbbing pubis, and knowing how she would react, he brushed his thumb over her opening making her legs spread even wider. He lowered his touch until he flowered her engorged, wet clit. Eyia moaned softly against the beard on his neck and in a spasm of pleasure, she pulled her hand away from his member grabbing his wrist: like an obedient virgin, the way she wanted Thorin to look at her and all just to get him out of her slit.

She glared at him : she knew she'd go crazy, she'd freak out, probably kick Thorin out in a bad way and in Durin's name that would turn him on more than any moan she could ever get out of her mouth.

Thorin Oakenshield, hunted by a human from his own forge.

"They adore us ya know, human maids." Dwalin whispered, turning his gaze to him and grinning out of the side of his mouth as the human's small hand tried to push his friend's hand down even further. "It is something I can't even explain, they look for our bodies as it's the first time they see man, they touch us as we are melted gold." She told him turning her head towards the human's rubbing her lips against the small ear covered by the unruly wisps. "By my beard..." Dwalin murmured hoarsely as he felt Y/N getting wetter and wetter under his fingers to the point of dripping. "She pends from my lips and limbs, as I am Mahal myself sometimes." He murmured more to himself than to Thorin.

"Of curse she does, you are paying her." Thorin retorted, making his friend grin in satisfaction as he looked at him again.

"I am not, Eyia is no whore she is an innkeeper from the human village outside, the innkeeper who offers the sweetest ale in all of this damned Valar-dominated part of the world." He commented hoarsely as he continued to look at him, but Thorin's gaze remained fixed on Dwalin's hand.

The friend of his, biting his lip, let his middle finger in between the two wet folds slide inside her, just enough to get only the tip of his finger in but enough to make her moan with so much satisfaction Thorin felt that nagging feeling press into his trousers again, growing more and more.

"So you are courting a human in a forge." He muttered, lowering his arms to try and cover his shame as much as he could manage.

"I am not courting her we just keep each other company until the sun rises every two nights when you are not inside this damned workshop and I have a moment's peace."

At those last words, Thorin could no longer remain silent or still, forcefully he held his forearms glaring at him. He could have accepted that Dwalin had taken a shine to a human, and even justified his sneaking her in. He wouldn't have approved but he would have understood, instead, he let her into their city only to bang her every other day.

She suppressed a small growl but was unable to keep from gritting her teeth furiously at each other. "So you are sneaking a human maid into these halls with-"

"You can also speak directly to me you know I am not invisible."

Finally, Eyia couldn't take it any more, that game was taking too long and knowing that they were talking about her in that deep, scratchy language, now after those long weeks even familiar, was driving her out of her mind.

She had been good, patient but Dwalin's finger between her legs was no longer enough and in those few hours she had free in the night, Eyia wanted to feel more than just his fingers and hear those words in Dwarvish only whispered into her ears between thrusts.

Pulling her lips away from Dwalin's strong neck she lether face go gently against his chest and entwined both arms around his shoulders, finally glancing down at the end of the table at the annoying interlocutor. She knew very well who he was, she could guess who he was, but at that moment it could have been Aule himself and she would have treated him the same way.

Eyia felt Dwalin's chest move up and down as his rough and deep chuckle resonated into the room, while on the other side the other dwarf remained silent, crossing slowly his legs while an irritated snore passed through his lips.

"You have a sharp tongue for a woman."

"Many say so, they say I tend to give voice to my though too many times."

"That's why Dwalin likes you then." He retorted, grinning out of the side of his mouth as he glanced behind her, clearly referring to Dwalin who was still holding his hand between her legs, teasing the entrance with the tip of his finger.

But Eyia weren't in the mood at that moment at all.

"He likes to talk, a lot actually, more than me even sometimes." She retorted aggressively, raising an eyebrow as Eyia slowly dropped her hands towards the step and gripped the edge of the table.

Oh yes, he liked to talk, especially as he watched her get dressed. He kissed her with his rough lips, he kissed every spot he hadn't touched enough during the night, rubbing his rough beard over every inch of her body and more than once, in those chats, she'd overheard them while his head was between her legs and she had to hold on to his black hair looking at the tattoos on his head.  

And those little discussions were also the reason she knew exactly who she was facing, the one Dwalin liked to call the Pride Bastard, or in some rare moments, his king.

Sceptically, Thorin raised an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly to the side. "He doesn't speak a lot to me, that's why I came here, because I needed to talk with him, but he was busy, with you."

"Then maybe he prefers my company because or you are just a silent person or just boorish...I think more the second choice. " Eyia hissed, totally voicing her thoughts as she turn her upper body totally towards him, not at all ashamed of her condition. How her breasts were totally in his sight, as well as her belly almost completely exposed if it wasn't covered by the side of her thigh.

He was the one who had stayed if her body was going to give him any trouble he might as well go away and let her continue her night with Dwalin without any further ado on his part.

Thorin clicked his tongue again, but this time through his blue eyes partially covered by the pitch-black wisps Eyia could see a spark ignite, a spark that made her womanhood pulsate between her legs and hold her hands on the surface of the table almost crawling over it.

"Yes, you tend to use your tongue a little bit too much for my tastes." He pinned the dwarf down, narrowing his gaze and spreading his legs over the chair in a fluid motion, settling even better: oh no, he wasn't leaving, not now.

And for all the Valar, he was annoying, he was boring, he'd used a tone since he'd walked in that even if she didn't understand it was capable of sending her into a rage, but she'd be a liar not to admit he was the most beautiful dwarf and man, and elf she'd ever seen. Dwalin was gorgeous, he had aroused her instincts the first moment Eyia saw him sitting at the tavern table. Powerful, rough, mischievous, but with a gaze that showed all the gentleness that could conceal the dwarf still well placed between her legs at that moment. A carnal, hard, violent beauty: his scars on his body, his arms covered in those tattoos she could have looked at and kissed for hours, his broken nose, but Thorin was a different kind of beauty. One she had rarely had the opportunity to see, a beauty as cold and dark as his hair that began to make the inside of her legs throb once more. The fine lips, the sharp eyes that were eating her alive at that moment, the backset as if he were not sitting on a wooden stool in a forge but on a throne. The taut, stocky muscles that darted beneath the regal yet humble blue shirt he was wearing crumpled at that moment. The dark hair on his chest rising slightly towards his square jaw covered by a short, unkempt beard the same colour as the long, black hair loose on his powerful shoulders. That voice, for all Valar, that hateful, haughty voice, that was making the hairs on her back stand up in annoyance but so deep and authoritative that it seemed to come from the very bowels of the earth, tangling with her own.

Eyia plan to let him go turned into something else. She was going to make him stay, no, she were going to make him beg to stay.