#i never draw with pure black so that second one felt like torture but i think they turned out kinda cool

[fattylime]

i've never drawn cowboy lalo and i think that's a crime ALSO here's some doodles in a new style i haven't done :)

[captains-simp]

Dark!Valkyrie and pet play, took r from midguard and chose to keep her, potential boot jumping if your comfortable if not idm COGRATS ON 1K 👏🏼👏🏼

Shout out to this anon that's waited months for this fic and never got impatient dkwksnsmwm

@romanoff062 helped me a lot with ideas so thank you bestie and some elements of the fic are inspired by @peachyteabuck 's fic And I Plead which I highly recommend y'all check out

2k words

Warnings: innocence kink, non-con/dub-con (R doesn't fully understand) forced heavy pet play, ownership, boot jumping, spanking, degrading, strap on sex, mild amnesia and kidnapping

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

New Asgard was a beautiful place. That much became apparent before you even set foot in the small town. All it took was a brief glimpse from the winding roads across the hills a few miles away and you instantly wanted to take a closer look.

You were on a road trip; had been for a while. It was a solo trip. A chance to get away from the hectic life back home and for you to figure things out. You had just graduated college and like many of your fellow students you had no idea what you were going to do next. So when you heard some people talking about a road trip, you decided you would give it a try aswell. You had a brief route planned but you ended up stopping off at a lot more places than you thought, even then none of them helped you with whatever it was you were trying to get out of that journey.

You parked up along the edge of town and grabbed your phone and wallet before getting out of the car and started towards the buildings.

It was starting to get late but there was still a fair few locals around who all waved or smiled at you as wandered around. You let the distant and lively murmer in the middle of town direct you and it wasn't long until you spotted a pub.

You knew you should have booked a place to stay for the night or few days, but you had been on the road for a while and wanted to enjoy the unique atmosphere of the town as soon as you could. Surprisingly, you weren't tired either.

A few people greeted you in the pub, clearly noting the new face, but they didn't draw too much attention to you which made you feel all the more at ease there.

You bought a beer and sent a quick text to your parents to let them know you were safe and took a sip of your beer as you admired the art work across the walls. They ranged from tapestries to paintings and even some sculptures, the likes of which you had never seen before. They had a distinct Viking style to them but with a regal touch.

"You like them?" You looked to your right to see a dark haired woman leaning on the counter besides you, nursing her own beer.

She had an easy smile on her lips that hinted at something more, as did her hazel eyes that watched you carefully. She was beautiful to say the least and it took you a moment to find the words ton respond.

"They're amazing, where are they from?" You asked as your eyes flickered away from hers, unable to hold her strong gaze.

"A very special place." Was all she said. "Valkyrie." The woman declared as she raised her bottle to yours. You smiled and tapped the top of yours against hers.

"Y/n." You replied. Valkyrie hummed.

"And what brings you to New Asgard, y/n?"

Convosation flowed between you easily from that point on. You found yourself telling the older woman a lot about yourself, more than you had ever told a stranger. You just couldn't seem to help it, she encouraged you to tell her everything and you did.

Once you realised you barely knew anything about Valkyrie the convosation took a swift turn to handsy flirtation. You didn't mind, of course, but it sure did surprise you when Valkyrie shamelessly pulled out the cliques and let her hand wander boldly up your thigh.

You were captivated by the stranger. And you wanted to experience her further, everything she had to offer you would willingly take.

You groaned quietly when you back hit the hard wall of the pub. Valkyrie pulled you into a rough, demanding kiss that you could hardly keep up with, only stopping when she pulled away begrudgingly, as though she wasn't running out of oxygen like you were.

"I want to see you come undone." She whispered lowly against your ear. You gave a whine and closed your eyes with a smile.

"Come on." Was all she said as she grabbed your hand and led you through the empty street back to her house that seemed somewhat larger than the ones around it.

You were barely through the door and she was undressing you. Her hands ran frantically over your body that was admittedly growing tired and weaker from your travels. It didn't help that everytime Valkyrie's fingertips danced across your bare skin you melted just a little more.

You whined longingly when she dipped her slender fingers through your wet folds. She glided them over your sensitive clit that was begging for any attention but she soon withdrew those torturous fingers once more.

"You want something, pet?" You head was too clouded with need to pay much attention to the nickname. You had no prior experience with anything of the sort, no real understanding of what Valkyrie had planned.

"I need you." You whined again and went to kiss her only for the older woman to chuckle and pull something out of her pocket.

She attached the collar swiftly. It was locked around your neck before you could object and even if you did, it would have been futile.

"What's this?" You asked, dumbfounded.

"Your collar. All good pets have them." Valkyrie said simply and reached her foot around the back of your legs to pull forward with her foot, making you fall to your knees with a thud.

"What does that mean?" You asked again, confusion and mild panic starting to rise.

"That you belong to me, so you better behave." Valkyrie warned before pressing her boot covered foot between your legs and pressing down on your neglected clit. You moaned despite yourself and grinded down on the polished material out of pure instinct.

You lifted your hands up to grip onto Valkyries thigh as you dragged your cunt along her boot but she slapped them away. You whined, not knowing what to do with your hands.

"Hands behind your back." Valkyrie instructed and you did so quickly, glad to have something to follow.

You built up a desperate rhythm quickly as you looked up at Valkyrie pleadingly. You needed your release badly.

"Please." You tried. Your wetness was covering her boot and you were so close to releasing everything you had onto the boot.

"No." Valkyrie defied as she yanked her boot away from you. You whined loudly and she tutted as she grabbed your collar and pulled you up to lean over the edge of her bed.

"Please make me cum." You whimpered, earning you a harsh smack to your ass.

"Pets don't speak unless spoken to. Seems like we have a lot of training ahead of us." Valkyrie said darkly. You groaned again, not knowing what the hell that meant and wanting to know what you were getting in to.

You tried to look back at her but your head was forced down into the sheets with one hand while Valkyrie's other started to undo her zip.

She pulled her jeans down and off swiftly and threw them across the room to reveal the strap on she had been hiding. This only became apparent to you when you felt the large head against your entrance, bringing out another breathy whine from you.

Valkyrie edged the tip of the strap into your less than prepared pussy and revealed in th noises it brought out in you. You squirmed against the bed and her hold but she continued to push onwards as she held you down.

It with take long for her to thrust the entirety of the the toy deep inside you, brushing against nerves that were rarely touched. With each passing second you lost more of your grip on your speech until Valkyrie pulled out only to slam the rest of the you into you.

You moaned out loudly and clung onto the bedsheets frantically as Valkyrie continued to fuck.yo7 at a brutal pace, never faltering. You were all overwhelmed with pleasure you hardly heard the dirty things the woman above you whispered into your ear. With that, it didn't take you long to get close.

"Gon cum, please!" You tried, your speech far too slurred for you even to understand luckily Valkyrie did.

"Cum for your queen." She ordered and with that, you fell over the edge. You moaned loudly as your back arched and you clenched around the toy, desperate to feel it as much as possible when you came around it.

Valkyrie didn't stop once you came, not after you came a few times either. Because while you may not have ever completely remembered the events of that day, you would sure as hell feel them for a while.

*

You awoke in a brightly lit room with walls that seemed to literally shine. You blinked quickly as you looked around and found yourself in a bedroom. A fucking big one.

Next to you, or more towering over you from your low position, was a Grande bed that was unnecessarily big, as though it was there for show more than comfort. The gold painted posters and luxurious pillows and covers made it the perfect image of a King's bed and had you wondering what fantasy land you had dreamed up in your head.

You looked down and furrowed your brow as you realised you were laying in large dog bed that fit you as if by measurement. It was lined with quilts and soft pillows that matched those on the bed.

You sat up in the bed and took in the rest of the room and all its glory. Long drapes hung from the ceiling and parted for an open pair of doors that led onto a sizeable balcony. With a deep breath, you got up out the bed and ventured towards it.

It was only when you left the warmth and softness of the bed that you realised you were fully nude, but there was no dresser or closet door around to provide you with any clothes. You timidly edged towards the doors and stood to the side to peer out, hoping no neighbours would get an eyefull of your vulnerable state.

It was also hard to stay oblivious to the thick black leather collar that was around your neck so tightly. There were some hazy memories it awoke in the back of your mind that you couldn't quite see.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you peered out from behind the curtain. What became apparent first was how high up you were. The balcony leaned over the whole land and let you see the whole of the city and the dark forests beyond it.

The building below you shone in the sun, gleaming boldly in a way you couldn't tear your eyes from. It was almost mythological.

"You're awake!" An excited voice exclaimed from behind you. You spun around to see the dark haired women coming through the main doors towards you.

You didn't recognise her at first, especially with the cheerful grin plastered across her face. But soon the pieces fitted together and you took a big step back away from Valkyrie.

"Don't be like that." She said with a frown, her eyes shamelessly raking over your body.

She walked towards you quicker than you could get away and gripped you collar, forcing you to your knees. "Much better." She mused as she looked down at you.

She attached the leash to your collar and gave it a tug as she strolled back to the balcony with you having no choice but to follow as she instructed.

"I've waited so long for this." She beamed as she looked out at the city. You sat by her side, your mouth and throat too dry to let you speak and feeling too scared to even try. "Finally, Asgard is back to how it should be, and with you by my side." She looked down at you with a smile and noted your confusion.

"Earth just didn't cut it." She said simply. "So we're starting over, again. We have this whole planet to ourselves and I'll make sure it stays this way." Valkyrie explained as she looked back out at the city she ruled.

"I want to go home." You piped up as you stared at the ground, too afraid to meet her gaze.

"You are home." Valkyrie said as she crouched down and lifted your chin to look at her. "I'll give you everything you could ever want." Your bottom lip trembled as you realised you really had no way out.

"All you have to do is be a good pet."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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[abbatoirablaze]

Mate Training--Week 1

Word Count: 3.7k

Warning: A/B/O dynamics, cursing, threatened gun violence, fighting, choking. What appears to be dubious consent or nonconsenting is actually panther mating rituals, angst.

Days 1-3

“This will be an intensive, two-week course. All of you have finished your mandatory health screenings and are able to move forward at this time. I am agent Mason Browne, but you can call me Mace,” the woman began as she paced in front of the class. Her high ponytail bobbed as she walked, and you noticed a few guys in rows ahead of you checking her out. You were towards the back of the room, not making a sound and standing at attention, like the rest of the recruits, “you will be working with me and my fellow colleague, agent Nick Fowler the entire two weeks. We will do hand-to-hand combat, shifter identifications, camouflaging techniques, as well as interrogation training. Now, this is not some simple textbook and notes course where we sit down and watch a bunch of videos. We will have classroom time, but then real life applications. All of these categories are here to serve you. This is real-life training that will be utilized in the field. This information is imperative and can be the direct result of you staying alive or becoming a casualty.”

“Mace is correct,” the man behind her said loudly. Instantly your attention was drawn to him. His jaw was clenched as he looked to the recruits, examining everyone. Your breath hitched as you felt like his eyes landed on you. He started winding his way through them, making sure that your eye contact never broke away from his. You felt frozen in time as he walked your way, “My name is Agent Nick Fowler. I’ve been in the field approximately fifteen years. I’ve taken down terrorist organizations that would like nothing better than to vaporize the whole planet. Been on a tightrope between nations as they sold one another’s secrets. Been tortured in so many back alley chop shops you may wonder how I’m still alive. It’s because Mace and I have utilized this training and developed the techniques in a way that will allow you to succeed if you follow it. Now…are there any questions?”

You didn’t directly move your head, but you felt your ears twitch as someone in front of you and to the left raised their hand timidly, the air that shifted and their shaky breathing was the giveaway.

“Second row on the end.”

“I am a cobra shifter,” the girl said quickly. You kept your eyes forward as he stopped in front of you. He continued to stare through your soul as he listened to her question, “and I was wondering if you feel there are any drawbacks for the different species when it comes to shifter identification or camouflage. There have been studies that show my strengths, err a cobra shifter’s strengths, would lie more towards camouflage and combat, rather than shift interrogation tactics. And is it possible to focus only on that?”

“That’s a good question, recruit,” Mace smiled. Nick and you continued your staring contest, and you noticed black, velvety pointed ears start to show from beneath his hair. You tried not to let your eyes widen in surprise at the fact that he was a werepanther. Instead, you broke the eye contact. Him maintaining it for so long had your panther form twitching to get out. The aggressive amount of eye contact purely a panther mating ritual. You shivered as he chuckled, and Mace walked over to the second row and stood beside the girl. You gave her your full attention, “For those of you who didn’t hear the recruit, she asked if there are any drawbacks to certain species and the four key components of being a good field agent.”

“Each species does have their strengths,” Nick added in, drawing your gaze back to him as he continued his path, slipping between recruits, “for instance the cat species of shifter as well as most reptile shifters are great at camouflage and the defensive aspect of hand-to-hand combat and typically are pretty decent at changes in environment, but need to work on interrogation tactics, species identifications, and the offensive part. Whereas more studies have shown that wolves and bear shifters counterbalance them. For instance, since I am a werepanther, if I have to be partnered with someone, they often bring in a dog or bear shifter. Mace is a beta wolf, so she is a great counterbalance to have in the field. It evens you both out and makes you better.”

“What about avian shifters?”

“Depending on the type of bird, your generalized strengths can vary,” Mace replied softly, looking to the male in the row behind that had asked the question, “. However avian shifters and cats often do not work well together in the field. We will go over the differences as well as species relationships in the field in the shift identification portion of the course. Are there any other questions?”

“Yeah,” a male smirked from beside you, “you single, beta?”

If you hadn’t been paying attention you wouldn’t have noticed agent Fowler had lapped the recruits and was now gliding behind you. You felt the slightest breeze on the back of your neck as he passed, then stopped behind the male. In a flash agent Fowler grabbed the recruit, and had one arm pinned behind him, pinning it with his body, while his arm caught the male in a chokehold, and the other wrapped around him to place the muzzle of a gun under his jaw.

It wasn’t even a scuffle. Everyone froze, and Mace lifted her brow at the panther, “can’t go pulling a gun on the recruits on the first day, Fowler…”

“Can’t just disrespect an agent as a recruit,” he shrugged. He took a deep breath and you saw his body freeze out of your peripherals. But you kept your eyes front and center, trying to ignore the bitter taste of the fear in the room, while numerous other recruits’ scents spiked. You saw his nostrils twitch, and his ears fully poke through the crown of his dark hair. You felt a rush of slick between your thighs, seeing his partial shift. His eyes went from steel blue to pure grey slits. Internally cursing yourself, you prayed that the only other panther in the room wouldn’t notice that your body was responding to his partial shift. You focused on the floorboards in the front of the room, trying to keep yourself from shifting as well. It wasn’t until you heard him calling once more that your glance went back to him and you noticed he was calling for you, “RECRUIT!”

Your eyes snapped to his, “y-yes agent Fowler, sir?”

His cat eyes studied you. The slightest Cheshire grin appeared on his lips as he looked to Mace gun still pressed to the recruit’s jaw that was next to you, “Eyes. Forward.”

“Y-yes sir.”

He looked back to the recruit in his arms, a new shit eating grin on his face, “tell you what, junior. You apologize to Mace, and I’ll let you go.”

The mutt whimpered his apology and Mace smirked as agent Fowler let him go. You didn’t dare break eye contact as he stared at you once more, one of his ears twitching as he took a step closer, “is this making you uncomfortable, recruit?”

“No sir.”

His aggression in front of you wasn’t making you nervous. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He was displaying that he was the alpha that could protect you in panther rituals. That he could make sure you were safe if you were his omega. Your jaw clenched.

He took a few more steps away from the recruit, until he was well within your personal space. His jaw was dangerously close to your own and you shuddered, thinking about how when another panther wanted to get down and dirty nuzzling was a very big part of the foreplay. Your eyes closed when his nose traced along your jaw, and he inhaled. Your own ears starting to poke through your hair.

Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!

“Well, well, well…looks like another panther finally made it into the program,” agent Fowler whispered breathlessly. You opened your eyes to see that the recruits had all but turned around, refusing to look at the interaction that was going on, a few of the other big cat shifters giggling, knowing the implications of what he was doing and that you were the same kind of cat too. Mace’s brow quirked once more, and Fowler took another step forward so that his chest was touching your shoulder. He bumped your shoulder, but you held firm. He did it once more and you held your breath as you felt his bulge poking your hip. He looked at you before shifting his attention to Mace. You knew he was letting you claim this win, and your breathing ceased. He was definitely trying to court you. You swallowed, “Gonna split them up like we normally do?”

“FIRST WEEK! Dogs, bears, amphibians, and insects! This week you are all with Nick,” Mace laughed, her attention falling to you, “cats, avian, reptiles, and sea creatures, are all with me. Then next week, we’ll switch. Both weeks will be a fully immersive experience. Teams. Follow your instructors and we’ll make sure you survive! Nick’s team, line up along the front wall, facing it. My team, do the same to the back wall.”

“I’ll see you next week, kitten,” he murmured softly, licking your neck. You shivered, your body reacting to his interactions. The slick that had gathered at your thighs was plentiful, and there was no way that he didn’t smell it, “DOGS! BEARS! SEA SHIFTERS AND INSECTS. LINE UP NOW!”

You were quick to run to the back of the room, eager at the opportunity to get away from him. It wasn’t long before the doors opened, and you heard shuffling behind you. And then, a hood was placed over your head.

“Do not fight back!” you heard Mace call out. There were a few scuffled noises, and then a loud thud, “FIRST LESSON. IF THEY PLACE A HOOD OVER YOUR HEAD, DO NOT FIGHT THEM. Chances are if you are docile, they are less likely to knock you out. If you’re awake and coherent you’re more likely to be able to figure out where you’re going. Keep in mind anything that you will think would help. If they put you in a car, try to guess the direction or any identifiers. Traffic. Noises outside that you can hear. Hell, if they listen to a radio, you may be able to find a vague location or the time. These things are all little items that you may not realize just how much can help in any given situation.”

“Switch me groups!”

Mace laughed at her ex-boyfriend’s request two days later as he sat down beside her, behind the one-way mirror. He was very clearly on edge, his slitted eyes looking past her and into the examination rooms. She followed his gaze to see you, with a group of big cats, all of whom were partially shifted for the day’s lesson on shifter identification.

Nick’s mind went wild as he caught a glimpse of the little lace boy shorts that you wore, as your tail twitched excitedly, causing the skirt to lift slightly. A low rumble started in his chest, and Mace laughed.

“You’re worse than a teenage boy.”

But the comment was lost on him. His mouth watered at the thought of bending you over the study table and spining you, filling you with a whole litter of cubs.

“Mace…”

“Not a chance,” she scoffed, with a roll of her eyes, “keep your barbed dick in your pants, Nick. You’ll get to drool all over her in five days.”

“I’m not drooling over her.”

She raised a brow, “no?”

“No!”

“What the hell was that two days ago then?” she asked with a wolfish grin, “The staring…you scented her in front of everyone. You did a partial shift. Licked her mating gland…I’m not a panther but both of you are…and I’m not so sure that you wouldn’t have mounted and barbed her in front of everyone.”

Nick smirked, “don’t know what you’re talking about, Mace. And anyways, saying I’ll barb her is rude. Borderline derogatory. That's like calling an alpha wolf a knothead. The correct term is spining.”

“How is that the only thing you latched onto?” she asked with an amused look, “I know those looks. You probably thought about pulling her out of the program and knocking her up.”

“You’ve never seen those looks,” he shrugged, trying to play it off, “you’ve never seen those looks. And anyways, I’m not interested. That would be unprofessional!”

“Really?” she asked with a laugh, “you mean to tell me you had no idea you were courting her in front of the recruiting class?”

“I wasn’t!”

“Well, she wasn’t rejecting it. I’ve got to go back in there. One of the sea creatures is plucking out an avians feathers,” Mace laughed, getting out of her chair. Nick’s gaze went back to you, and he caught another glimpse of the black lace against your skin. He groaned, “oh, and Nick?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t push the girl too hard next week…she’s due for her heat at the end of the month.”

Training Days 4-7

The further you got into the program, the more you felt like you were going crazy. You knew that it had not been a long engagement, but Mace would use more subtle techniques to throw all of you off. Waking you up at random hours, making it seem like everything was normal and you were in a classroom learning one minute, then the next you were being waterboarded.

You felt like the only thing keeping you sane was the promise of becoming an agent.

And then it started.

Scent warfare. Mace had begun to release attractants into the room during classes. You hadn’t noticed it at first, but it started to make sense. You wore a skirt on the third day during a shifter class, telling yourself that it was logical because of your tail, only your tail would twitch, giving others a glimpse of the lacy underwear, you’d worn.

By the fifth day you had rolled your skirt a few times, making it shorter, attracting the attention of a few alpha lions and a leopard. On day five of the training, you’d agreed to go to lunch with them. And that’s when you noticed it.

Warm blankets. Cashmere. Cherry wood.

It made your omega hindbrain chitter excitedly. The scent, while faint, wrapped around you, begging you to find its owner. And while you’d done a quick scan of the cafeteria, your tail twitched when you couldn’t locate the origin of the scent. Frowning, you assumed that meant it was another one of Mace’s games.

But then you smelled it again, later that day in the training room. But it wasn’t a fresh scent. It was slightly stale. When you asked Mace about it after the hand-to-hand combat was done for the day she brushed you off, muttering about the stench of Nick’s team being in there before hers was.

So it wasn’t scent warfare.

It came from his team.

All of you were then promptly walked back to your individual cells with hoods on your head. You felt heated. You don’t know how long you sat on the cot, but you couldn’t sleep. All you could think about was that scent.

It played with you in ways that you hadn’t imagined. By the time the door opened again, you’d been served two meal trays, which meant that at least half a day had passed.

“You need to stop following my pupil around, Nick.” Agent Fowler’s eyes passed over Maces and she smirked at him, “yeah…I know what you’re doing. Saw you earlier today, following her in the cafeteria after she went to lunch with the Jacobs, Smith, and Tanner. She asked about a scent in the training room too when training finished up.”

Nick tried to remain calm, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mace.”

“I can smell you, Nick…you’re off your suppressants and scent blockers,” she said simply. Nick’s eyes flickered away from his partner, “you really like her, don’t you…the panther…”

“I’m n-“

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about, again, Nick…we’ve worked together for most of my career. I know your tells,” she said simply enough. But there was a sadness, an anger lacing her words, “Be honest with me for once in our relationship.”

“She’s my mate, okay?” he asked, his jaw clenching at he glared at the beta, “I was able to tell on the first day. Her scent nearly drove me feral. I shifted because I couldn’t control myself, okay? It’s the same reason why I took my recruits and had my agents put them in their cells while I cooled off.”

Mace watched him. His normally cool and collected demeanor was gone. The emotionless eyes were filled with anxiety. She’d never seen him like this in all of her years of knowing him.

“But you got off your suppressants and blockers…”

“I want her to know what I am too,” he admitted softly, “I-I can’t just take her…”

“Wolves do…”

“Panthers are different, Mace,” he muttered, shaking his head, “trust me when I say you don’t want to try to fuck a panther that isn’t open to your advances…”

“Well she’s definitely open to yours.”

“WAKE UP RECRUIT!”

The door slammed shut behind the agent who was covered so you wouldn’t be able to determine his identity.

But that isn’t what caught your attention.

Cashmere.

Warm blankets.

Cherry wood.

Instinctively you began to purr. Covering your mouth, you backed up against the cot until your back met the wall.

SHIT!

The agent smirked, “welcome to hell, recruit.”

He stared at you, and while you truly felt like you should be afraid, you weren’t. You felt a wave of slick gathering between your thighs while his steely eyes bored into you. Neither one of your gazes faltered, and you could see velvety ears pointing through his hood.

Your eyes widened. Another panther.

You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. He stalked towards you, a low rumble in his chest, and you felt your purring resume as your core tightened in response. You bit your lip and looked away as you felt your tail and ears coming out, your partial shift completing itself when your forest green eyes became slitted, and went to a golden yellow.

Another low rumble as his own tail appeared, twitching anxiously. He grabbed at your ankle and pulled you towards himself. When he touched you, it felt like fire and ice licking at your skin. The spot where his hand touched burned, but it sent chills up your spine. Your nipples pebbled. A new wave of slick rushed to your panties. Your hindbrain fought you as his scent wrapped around you.

You let go of a moan as suddenly everything felt too hot. Everything except his touch. His hands pulled you towards him. You clawed at his shirt, but not in a way to injure him. You shredded the shirt, but only lightly marked him. He growled, flipping you over, and your body’s natural response was to present for him.

With another vicious pull you were finally well within his reach. As he leaned over your body, you felt his bulge pressing against your ruined panties. You moaned, purring happily as your ass rubbed against his clothed cock. His hands worked their way up your body, massaging your breasts, rolling your nipples through his thumb and index finger. Your purring got louder as your head arched back. His nose rubbed against your jaw as his hips bucked against you.

“Little mate,” he whispered softly, nipping at the corner of your jaw. You moaned, bucking your hips back as his rumbles got louder. He ripped your panties off you like they were tissue paper. Sweat trickled along your hairline and between your shoulder blades. His hands trailed back down your body, his face going out of your line of vision, and you felt all too hot again. You froze when you felt his tongue at the small of your back. It licked a line clear up your spine, and you shivered, more slick coming forward and dripping down your thighs as you moaned. He gave a shaky breath when he pulled away, “FUCK.”

You whimpered, feeling his body weight leaving the bed. Your hindbrain instantly going feral as you turned around and swiped at him. This time your claws caught him, right along his abs. The two of you stared at one another. He looked at your eyes, but your eyes were caught on the cut on his chest.

You hadn’t intended on it.

You didn’t mean to mark him…but you were caught in the moment. You were giving him the sign. Giving him the signal to take you. He backed off like he was supposed to, but your aggression at his removal of himself was all part of the courting process.

You wanted him. He called to you in a way that you’d never felt before.

You were delicate in your movements. Your throat dried up as you crawled towards him on the cot. Your tail twitching eagerly with each movement. His eyes were transfixed on you. It was obvious that his scent sent you overboard. You were at the beginning of a breakthrough heat, and you were choosing him.

His breathing hitched as you reached the end of the cot, where he was. Your hands braced themselves on his hips. His breathing got deeper as one hand trailed up to the wound. You leaned forward and gave little kitten licks to it, cleaning up the blood.

The noise in the room was his heavy breathing and the soft noises of your tongue against his skin. He gave you a warning rumble as he stared into your eyes. He pushed you back onto the cot, and you smiled as it looked like he was going to take you.

“Present, little mate.”

And you did so, but his hands never came. His cock never touched your folds. It wasn’t until you heard the harsh click of the door that you felt a pain in the pit of your stomach that he’d tricked you. That the man calling you his little mate walked away.

If he hadn’t been so right in his word choice, it would have hurt less. But the unknown agent had stabbed you with an invisible weapon. It was worse than any external damage he could have done. Because your unknown mate walked out on you.

[secretbangtnn]

Best Of Me | One

Pairings : →ot7 x reader, poly!BTS x reader

Genre : → vampireau, yandere!au, age gap, gore, obsessive behavior, ddlg/caregiver, poly, fantasy, supernaturals

summary : It’s quite unusual to find a little baby on your doorstep, especially that their area was not of the poorest - you could say that a vampire town was efficient with money and snobby creatures. However over time the first idea of just giving back the little girl seems more and more radical and those moody vampires slowly start perceiving deeper feelings to human they even wanted to kill.

notes ~

So im not really as happy as i wanted to be with this chapter, but its the first one that i needed to translate. Suprisingly Its easier for me to write the whole thing myslef than translating it from my native language. + Remember to leave something and im happy to say that we can start an ask game with the characters from my books

next

Surprisingly this day was awfully ugly for such a beautiful season. Heavy rain was falling on the ground creating the big sheets of wall with those millions droplets that practically covered the whole view outside of the freshly cleaned window.

Tired sigh pierced the quiet, as for the household members, house only causing the weird tension to increase that was there from the early morning. Dark hair of the boy moved with him, now facing the cold, wet window.

Hyung…” Groaned the boy crashing on the couch closing the eyes in the process a little frustrated. Walking just next to him, a little taller man with bright yellow hair, looked at the dark haired one with a tired stare.

“I don’t have time Jungkook, go torture Yoongi or something.” A snort came out of the older one after the not so innocent proposition, as he kept carrying the big basket full of clothes.

And again he was alone. The youngest of the brothers, being the one who never knew what to do with his free time, wandering in the halls and every couch he could spot in their cosy house. His dark chocolate hair falling on his face, a little too long for his liking, but he was too lazy to actually do something with them.

Again that not happy groan left his lips, and wriggling similar to a child that did not get a toy he wanted, in the end forcing him to sit on the couch with a big pout. It was not normal in this household, the whole quiet and calm act, especially considering the residents he shared the home with.

They are more similar to animals than gentelems that appreciate a quiet time. So the weird atmosphere was definitely an unsettling thing for the youngest.

Again looking at the dark view outside the window, he tried to see the cause of all of this. Completely as if something was meant to happen, like the quiet before the storm.

And let me tell you, Jungkooks 6th sense never fails. Just as he thought that maybe just maybe this time he was wrong, a ring echoed in the whole household.

“Someone is gonna open it?!” He shouted being too irritated to even do it himself, despite being the closest to the doors.

Of course, nobody answered. So angry he was at this moment he got up from a nice cozy couch and with heavy steps he came to the big chunk of the wood.

He opened the door not that gently, mumbling an annoyed “what?”

So how irritated he got when he saw nothing, a void, the same doorstep and gate that stood there everyday, now with a big wall of rain to spice up the view. He looked around, now a little confused, while thinking that maybe someone was in the mood for jokes. But how stupid the idea of that was when he remebered, that for his hundreds years of living in this world the first time that actually someone managed to make fun of him was today.

And oh god he started to get so pissed.

So imagine how shocked he was when just before he closed the door he heard a really unusual sound coming from his feets. Unhappy sobs rang in the quiet afternoon immediately attracting his attention.

The young vampire was more than shocked, looking at the child in the pille of pastel colored blankets. Small sobs now increased in a big crocodile's tears with disturbing sounds of the kids crying.

“”No, no, no, please be quiet, we don’t want to wake up the old, ugly, moody grandpa. do we?” He panicked, whispering the words to the child that now laid in his arms. He just prayed that the actual old vampire really didn't take up because of the cries.

As the kid started to calm down, he stared at it with an unreadable emotion. It was a weird feeling, holding the delicate creature in his arm, knowing that just one wrong move, and the child would never cry again.

So what was that feeling that stirred down his stomach as the little creature grabbed his finger with a big open mouth. The sick emotion only made him panic even more, while looking back inside the house.

He decidied,. Sneaking was nothing new for his ninja move, and he strongly believed in his skills of not getting caught with a surprise in his arms. In the end the spiderman socks were a good choice, as their soft material made nearly no sound on the floor.

His stress level went higher with each step that brought him closer to the room that he knew he could not miss. The sound of a knife and cutting rung in his ears is similar to the music in horror music he likes to watch, now making him understand a feeling of pure fear.

Eyes closed while praying that the blonde man won’t turn around catching him in his act. But how wrong he was to believe in such a miracle. Nothing and absolutely gets past Kim Seokjin.

“Jeon Jungkook…” He died, completely freezing in place. Not opening his eyes he waited thinking that maybe it was just his head messing with him, and the blonde boy never actually turned to him. “What have you done again. If I need to clean the mess once again from the ketchup, I'm not going to…”

And as Jungkook thought that nothing can go worse, the little chil laughed a happy giggle while making the grabby hands for his bracelet.

“Jungkook?...What exactly are you holding?” The question like a knife cutted the heavy atmosphere in half. The silence just after that louder than everything he has heard before. He was even sure that he felt his nonexisting heart stopping. “Did you fucking steall a child?! I can’t be…”

“No! It’s not like that I swear I found it on our doorstep.”

“Do you really think think I am that stupid? How even the child could just appear there hm? Rolled there or better flyed on its plush unicorn?”

“Hyung, please you are going to wake up others.” He didn’t even hesitate to beg, looking at the blonde with such terrified eyes. The child in his arms happily munching on his bracelet completely unaware of the tension.

“Why would I care about others! You brought a child Jungkook, how can i be calm!?”

Dark haired unconsciously looked around with gritted teeth, now just waiting for the rest to appear. And he did not need to wait long, as just after he looked back at the blonde, someone came from the other side of the kitchen door.

Tall man with peachy hair and raspy voice, trying to get rid of the rest of his sleep, now scratching his head with confused expressions. Who wouldn’t be confused in this place, seeing a literal child in a house full of old vampires.

“What is this mess all about? You know what hour it is?” Said the tallest one. Blondie one only snorted as if offended while crossing his arms. “What?”

“Nothing.” Oldest mumbled irritated. The tallest only raised his brow, and repeated the question once again. Jungkook being now forgotten with the child trying to catch his attention with little sounds. “You dare to remind me of the hour?! Do you know how many nights I didn’t sleep because of you! If I just could silence you for good, you would have long ago ended like the voldemort, yes i'm talking about that nose of yours”

The taller one immediately touched his nose gasping not believing in what he just heard, now trying to silently disappear from the harash stare of his older brother.

As the peach hired one hid behind a counter, the attention now came back to the snaking Jungkook. More pairs of footsteps rang in the quietness of the home, slowly showing other people.

“Jin-hyung is angry again? What happened I want to see.” Announced the newcomer, sliding on his perfectly white socks.

“Who is angry here?! You want to see how angry I can be you...you…”

“You silly goose?”

“No that's to lame.”

“Dipshit?”

“You dipshit! Thank you Namjoon.” He finished with a red face. The newcomer only rolled his eyes, while making the shortest of the brothers that came with him laugh.

“Since everyone is here…” The tallest started.

“Wait, where is Yoongi.” Asked the red haired one, while leaning on the counter with a mysteriously made coffee.

“Here.” All of them shouted, hearing the sudden voice, and seeing the new person that appeared with a lightning of thunder. “So what’s this mess about?”

Everyone in the room simultaneously looked at the dark haired boy that immediately stopped in his tracks hoping for some power that could help him disappear. All the eyes slowly drifted down his arms, now staring at a bundle of blankets that started to move as if it knew of the attention.

“What is that?” Asked the tallest looking straight at the irritated blonde.

“Don’t ask me, I’m not the one that gives such a stupid example, making those idiots steal children.”

The kitchen is now again quiet, all the eyes on the little creature in the arms of the youngest. Only sound now being the child starting to sob again, making everyone tense.

“Shut it up you morons.” Said second oldest, annoyed at the loud cries. The blonde didn’t waste time, knowing how bad noise is for the black haired. Small body now shuddering because of the sobbing making the oldest coo at the little child.

His arms soon hold the bundle of blanket, trying to calm the kid down with his baby voice. It wasn’t hard to get lost in its eyes, them being mysterious and full of innocence, drawing up the blonde one. His big hand now on its red cheek, trying to feel the texture of the soft skin under his fingers.

And as the cries never happened, the child started giggling again trying to grab Seokjin hands with such a beautiful smile. It was a really soft sight to see making them all calm and giddy inside. But as the child opened its mouth Seokjin's smiles disappeared.

“What the matter?” Asked Namjoon a little bit taken aback by the change of his hyungs mood. The oldest only looked back at the rest of them with a terrified expression.

“It's a human.”

[wingletblackbird]

Hi. I've been a long time fan of your meta posts. I've been wondering from a purely legally perspective if, as a senator, Padme had the authority to pardon Anakin following his confession in AotC?

Thanks for the compliment!

I'm pretty sure Padme does not have the authority to forgive Anakin's actions on Tatooine from a legal perspective. This isn't just because she is a senator though, and I don't think senators unilaterally have that authority. Even if she did have that kind of authority, and had it on a planet not in the Chommell Sector, she would lack jurisdiction on two counts.

The first is that Tatooine is really only nominally a part of the Republic. It is ruled by the Hutts. Padme has no authority here whatsoever. On top of that, there is no local law enforcement on Tatooine. There are Jabba's enforcers, and your blaster. There is no real law at all. This is the Wild West at it's worst. That is why when Shmi is kidnapped, Cliegg gathers up his farming buddies, and they go after the Tuskens. They can't call in the police, or the military, or any one else to do it. It's a harsh world, and it is just them to do what is necessary. That is why, from a Tatooinian legal perspective, Anakin has not violated the law. On Tatooine justice=vengeance. It is hard to break the law when there isn't one. Sure people will think what he did was excessive, but everyone hates the Tuskens, (you could even call it speciesism), so no one will do anything about it.

The second reason Padme has no say is because Anakin is a Jedi. The Jedi, as seen in Ahsoka's trial, handle all legal matters concerning violations by the Jedi, if not all Force-Sensitives. Now, this system does have room for abuse. However, there is good reason for this system to exist. Force-sensitive beings can choke you from afar, mind trick you etc. The Jedi are the only ones who can ensure a sound judgement, and/or minimal chance of an escaped convict.

Not only do the Jedi need to be in charge in this case for security, they are also the only one's who can truly appreciate how difficult the Force is to handle. What I mean by this is that there is a difference between falling to the Dark Side, and brushing against the Dark. The former is a choice you can be condemned for, the latter is more like manslaughter. Think in ANH when Obi-Wan tells Luke, essentially, that the Force can also control you. You need to be careful how you draw upon the Force. What might be murder for a non-Forceful, could be manslaughter for Forceful if they are overwhelmed by a Force they cannot control, but controls them.

Taking all of this into context then. When Anakin finds his mother, he is grief-stricken, guilt-stricken, furious, horrified, terrified etc. He decides someone needs to die for this, and fair enough. His mother has been tortured to death over several weeks. He gets out his lightsaber and kills the guards. After that, Tuskens come running up to him, he swings his lightsaber. Fade to black. The fade to black symbolizes his brush with the Dark Side. Anakin intended to kill the guards. This is not against the law. This is justice on Tatooine. However, Anakin is also Force-sensitive, and extremely off-balance. He draws on the Force wrong, gets overwhelmed by the Force, and more and more Tuskens, and next thing you know, he's gone and killed the whole village. This was not intentional at all. (As an aside, I think drawing on the Light Side the wrong way can be just as bad, even if not as obviously destructive, but that is a meta for another day.)

Anakin is shocked, horrified, sickened. We can see him struggle to come to terms with it when Padme comes to find him. When he was using the Dark Side he was on a high of power, all the justifications whispered in his head he remembers, now he's awake and trying to cope with what he has done, and why, and how it felt. He has no clue how to handle this. He is a trainwreck. Now, if he'd been bragging about it, I think Padme would have noped out and reported him. He wasn't though. He felt bad. He should be better than this. She forgives him. This is not on a legal level, just a personal one. Padme's gift and flaw is that she always looks for the best in people. Anakin has committed no wrong on Tatooine, and the other wrongs are a Jedi matter she has nothing to do with. In the same way she likely assumed the Jedi would handle Shmi, she thought Anakin would go to the Jedi. Then the war broke out, and there were other things to worry about.

As for Anakin, he was horrified about what he did, and knew he would have to tell someone. He was scared to tell Obi-Wan/the Jedi though. He had never quite fit in. He didn't want to let them down. He didn't expect them to understand how losing his mother affected them. How could they? What should he do? So, he goes to Palpatine first for advice. Palpatine will tell him what he should do. Had Palpatine been a decent man, he would have been sympathetic, but still would have told Anakin that this was beyond his area, and Anakin clearly needs the Jedi's help. Anakin would have gone to the Jedi. Palpatine is not a good man though, and wants Anakin to feel miserable and dark and dependent only on him, so he isolates Anakin further. Of course, the Jedi would never understand, my dear boy. And, besides, it's not like what you did was really all that bad, right? After all, they killed your mother. All water under the bridge! Anakin may not believe this, but it is permission for him to not face his fears, so he doesn't. He vows to do better, and leaves it at that. If Padme brings it up, he tells her he got help. He legitimately thinks he did. Even if he mentioned it was Palpatine he went to, at this point in time, Palpatine is an old friend/mentor of Padme's. She trusts him too. Problem solved.

Now, had Anakin (or Padme) actually told the Jedi what happened. I do not think they would have risked expelling Anakin outright. First of all, they could not have condemned the murder of the Tusken guards, as that could be considered justice under Tatoonian law. However, the rest is manslaughter, arguably even involuntary manslaughter. (Anakin definitely would not have killed kids at this point in time intentionally. He could barely do it even when he chose to fall.) Given Anakin's remorse, he is not beyond hope, and they do not want to expel a man who still could be a danger to himself and others, (and they want to keep track of “The Chosen One”), so he is punished and offered extra meditative training.

I think generally 1-5 years is the typical penalty for involuntary manslaughter? Up to a maximum of 8-10? I don't know. I'm no expert, but I reckon it is pretty similar for Jedi. I imagine the council would suspend him from all further duties, place him in confinement for a year for meditation, counselling, therapy is that too much to ask for?, after that, they would let him out for remedial training under a watchful eye. If improvement was seen, he would eventually be allowed to return to active duty. His knighthood would be put off for quite some time. Alas, this does not happen.

Even if it had though, I don't picture Anakin ever being knighted. Honestly, the increased supervision would have also meant he couldn't see Palpatine or Padme. I think the latter would be the breaking point. Anakin would insist on seeing her and he would get expelled. He would still be expected to do his time, of course, but after that he would leave and never look back.

[thotful-writing]

Descending into Darkness (5)

Summary: Leaning into the black hole that is Kylo Ren.

Read on AO3

Chapter 4

Warnings: Choking, murder, degradation, condescension, smut, and violence

Words: 2.7k

A/N: The final chapter. Maybe. Probably. There’s always the possibility of more depravity. 

Everything that had happened before fucking Kylo was nothing more than an inconvenience now. The things you’d experienced, being bought and sold, working until your body gave out, all of it was absolutely nothing compared to what Kylo put you through. Every harsh word seeped into your mind, each choke, slap, bite, left you dizzy and confused. You didn’t hate yourself, but it was becoming harder to like who you were becoming after a while, which made the doctor’s offer a little more appealing each day.

Pathetic. Slut. Whore. Useless. Weak.

His voice was now engrained into your mind, even when he wasn’t there the words he used and the way he spoke to you infiltrated your thoughts. You were almost in a constant state of arousal which was driving you insane and making it difficult to focus on anything outside of wondering when he was going to return and how he was going to use you this time.

" I'm almost done with-" You didn’t have a chance to finish before he was on you.

Kylo had you hoisted up, shoved against the bathroom wall with your legs around his waist and his cock already hard.

"You can finish when I'm done." He said as he lined his cock up with your cunt.

It wasn't that you didn't want him, it was ridiculous how much you thought about him, but you were frightened by the things he did and the lack of self-control you had around him.

"You like the fear." Kylo said as he eased into you, "it makes your cunt even wetter."

"N-No, it's-"

"Don't deny it. I can feel it... I can hear those desperate thoughts, begging for me to hurt you, to show you just how ruthless I can be. Such a pathetic little whore pleading all the time. Stop fighting it and just give in." He held you up effortlessly while he drove his thick cock in and out of you.

You hated how right he was, how eagerly your thoughts returned to how rough he was with you. It was on repeat all day, every day. You were beginning to crave it, your dreams at night filled with depravity and the things you were too afraid to speak out loud.

Your reflection in the mirror caught your eye, seeing yourself wrapped around him so desperately while he used you. He was like a drug, coursing through your veins, stimulating every part of yourself that laid dormant without him. Whether he meant to or not, you were now successfully encompassed in him completely and your strength to take the option that got you out was wavering.

Between the bouts of rigorous fucking that teetered on the edge of attempted murder, you returned to your normal duties until Kylo returned.

He entered the room with heavy steps, his gaze fixed on you almost immediately.

“Sir, I-“ You froze when you saw the suspicious expression fixed on his face.

“Care to explain this.” He handed you the data pad.

You scanned it, seeing a requisition request for you to report to the Med Bay. Avoiding his gaze was becoming harder as you looked it over, you could feel him digging into your mind. The only way you’d have a requisition was if someone had officially registered you into the First Order services as a technician.

“I don’t know- I didn’t think anyone really knew about me being here.” You finally peered up at him.

“Apparently they do. And it seems like your friend is in need of your assistance with some matter that’s beyond making the request through the appropriate channels. Instead, I received it this morning.” He snatched the data pad from you and tossed it down on the couch.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what he could want with me.”

For a split second you were grateful that you were nowhere near a wall for him to slam you into, because you’d come accustomed to his knee jerk reaction to trap you in. But that gratefulness soon faded when he gripped your throat with one hand and slid his other hand directly between your thighs.

“You’re certain you don’t know what he wants?” His fingers stroked along your slick folds methodically, drawing out a soft moan, “It feels like you know exactly what he wants and you’re just the eager little slut to give it to him.”

“Kylo, please- I don’t-“

“You don’t want the doctor to touch your messy little cunt like this? Remember, I was there when you asked him to take care of you so sweetly. Your need was almost dripping from your tongue the way it drips from your cunt.” The condescension was heavy in his voice as he zeroed his fingers in on your clit.

“N-No… I don’t want him… I want you.” Your legs all but gave out as you clutched his forearms.

“You want me or my cock?” He thrust his fingers into you, forcing a harsh gasp out of your throat.

“Y-You. Please-“ You squeezed your thighs together, squirming in his grasp.

His gaze was intense as he leaned closer, bending your body in whatever way he wanted so he could reach his fingers deeper within you. You couldn’t move away, nor did you want to. You wanted to be there, right there with him, no matter what he did to you.

“I’ll let you fill his little request, but not before I fill your little cunt. I want my cum dripping out of you while you stand there with him, reminding you of where I’ve been. Where only I’ve been.”

He didn’t give you a chance to speak before abruptly pulling his fingers out of you and jerking you towards his bedroom. Your feet barely kept up and he was all but dragging you along the sleek floor. Part of you was afraid of what came next from him, the other part was excited to see him unhinged, letting loose and using your body to release that inner turmoil.

He threw you down on the bed, “don’t worry, slut, I don’t plan on taking it easy on you today. Your little stint with being sick was the last time you’ll see any concern from me.”

He grabbed your ankles and pulled you down towards him, “what does he want with you?”

Kylo forced your legs open obscenely wide, almost to the point where it hurt. You struggled to sit up, trying to see what he was doing, but the Force pushed you back down on the bed.

“Answer me.” He growled with his mouth so close to your pussy.

“I don’t know.” You shook your head.

“Don’t know or don’t want to tell me?” He ran his hands up your inner thighs as he spread you open for him.

You could feel his hot breath panting right against you, warming you more than you already were. You were waiting on bated breath for some kind of contact, but it never came.

“I really don’t know.” You said after a moment.

Your entire body jolted the second you felt his tongue drag along your cunt to your clit. His mouth latched onto you, sucking and licking your clit, leaving you speechless and pleading in your mind. He worked you up until you were close to coming, then he stopped.

“Why did he request you?” He asked.

“Please, I have no idea.” You tried to squirm but he had his hands pinning your hips to the bed and the Force still keeping your shoulders flat on the bed.

A harsh slap on your inner thigh made you jolt, “Please, I really don’t know. He never said anything about this.”

Kylo growled against you when his mouth returned to your pussy, licking and sucking until you were barely hanging on. It was torture, pure torture with no other motive besides getting information from you. You both knew he could just take it from your mind, but he seemed to be driven by making you suffer a little more first.

“Kylo, please! I can’t-“ You pleaded, sweat glistening across your body, thighs soaked from his continued teasing and taunting.

He sat up between your legs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “tell me what you know and I’ll fuck you into the mattress.”

You took the brief pause to catch your breath, “I don’t know what he wants with me, honestly. I’ve only had one conversation with him and that was on the elevator. Please believe me?”

Kylo shoved you down onto the bed as he climbed on top of you, spreading your legs obscenely wide, “lie to me and I’ll make you watch while I kill him.”

“You- You’d do that?” The surprise in your voice wasn’t about the fact that he’d kill a man because of you, but that it seemed to excite you a little more than it should.

Kylo regarded you with a confused expression for a moment as you freely gave him your thoughts, “tell me what he wants and I’ll consider it.”

You chewed on your lip as he hovered over you, warm breath hitting against your lips as he remained just out of reach. Your heart was racing, every nerve on end as you held a man’s life in your hands and on the tip of your tongue sat his undoing or saving.

Suddenly Kylo sat up, “wait here.”

Before you could ask him where he was going, he was already out the door and on his way somewhere quickly. You sat up, finally able to catch your breath and collect your thoughts. You couldn’t believe you were actually considering selling out Fent just for Kylo to ravage you in the best way. He was too overwhelming and clouded your judgement completely.

You scooted to the edge of the bed and pulled the blanket around your shoulders, wondering how long you should wait for him. Your question was answered quickly when he strode back in, but not alone.

He stepped into the room and shoved Fent down on his knees at the foot of the bed, “I brought you a gift.”

“Kylo, I-“ You looked from Fent to Kylo, panic rising in your chest at the realization that he brought him there for you.

“S-Sir, I’m sorry for whatever I did, I didn’t mean-“

Kylo raised his hand and the look on Fent’s face told you exactly what was happening. You stood up and stepped towards Kylo.

“Stop, please?!” You grabbed his hand.

Kylo immediately wrapped his gloved hand around your throat and pulled you close, “this is what you wanted, what your messy little cunt ached for just moments ago. Tell me what you know and I’ll end his pathetic life here and now.”

You stared up at him, feeling his hand flex around your throat as Fent choked in the floor. You parted your lips, finding yourself free falling into the darkness that surrounded Kylo Ren.

“He offered a way out. He said he’d give me something to make me sick and when you left me with him, he’d say I died.” You swallowed hard, “then he’d help me get off of the ship and somewhere safe.”

Kylo’s gaze was intense as he listened to you, hanging on every word and digging into your mind as the words spilled from your lips. He loosened his grip around your throat and leaned in close, his lips ghosting against yours.

“Good girl.” He grabbed the blanket around you and pulled it away.

You were too enamored by him to even care that Fent was right there and could see everything. Part of you wanted to cover up, but the other part wanted to stay on full display just for your master.

“On the bed, pet.” He ordered and stepped back from you.

You didn’t hesitate to climb back on the bed, sitting on the edge with your feet hanging over it. You glanced down at Fent, his face red from a lack of oxygen, but he was still living. Kylo pulled his gloves off and dropped them on the floor before removing his shoes and the heavy cloak that weighed on his shoulders. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him as he stood before you, broad shoulders stretching the thin fabric of his t-shirt, hair falling in an organized mess around his face.

“Sit back, spread your legs.” He said with barely a glance in your direction.

You scooted back a little and spread your legs for him, feeling like a prized pet on display, “like this, master?”

He nodded at you and returned his gaze to Fent, “how many have you played this little game with?”

“I-I don’t know what she’s talking about. I haven’t-“

Kylo tensed his jaw and raised his hand slightly, cutting Fent off again, “how many?”

Fent grabbed at his throat, “th-three.”

Kylo released him instantly and peered over at you, “touch your cunt, pet.”

The command barely left his lips before your hand was sliding eagerly between your thighs. There was something about seeing him so calm and on the verge of rage that was ridiculously hot.

“Where are you taking them once they leave the ship? Get yourself close, pet.” He split his attention between the two of you.

“Wherever they want to go.” Fent said with a shaky voice.

“Where did you want to go, pet?” Kylo asked without looking away from Fent.

“N-Nowhere. I didn’t have a home.” You bit back a moan.

“Neither did the others. Try again.” He said as he stepped over the bed where you were still perched.

You were so close, but you held your orgasm at bay, knowing he didn’t want you coming just yet. Your fingers brushed over your clit softly, hips bucking.

“Please- I never meant for-“

Kylo sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you over into his lap, stopping you from touching yourself. He adjusted and unzipped his pants enough to pull his cock free between your legs. He positioned you and eased his cock into you slowly. Your mouth hung open in a silent gasp as he filled you, everything in that moment seemed so unreal as your eyes fluttered shut.

His lips lingered on your bare shoulder as his hand snaked up your body to grip your throat, “eyes on him, pet.”

You didn’t hesitate for a split second as you opened your eyes immediately and stared down at Fent. Kylo held you down in his lap as you squirmed and rolled your hips against him, pushing his cock deeper within you. When Fent began grasping at his throat, you knew exactly what Kylo was doing.

He squeezed your throat a little tighter, “don’t come until I say.”

You nodded your head, feeling your orgasm start to build again as his cock hit perfectly within you. He nipped softly along your shoulder, tongue brushing over each indention.

Fent’s face began changing color, light pink to red, each passing second he choked and silently begged for his life, but Kylo gave no reprieve to him. Your heart raced as you watched him and Kylo began picking up his pace of thrusting up into you. You bit into your lip, no longer fighting with yourself about the morality of coming while a man fought for his life in front of you. You’d long since left any humanity behind for the sake of Kylo Ren and everything he did to you. He all but pulled every ounce of decency out of you as he snatched you from the light.

“Kylo… I’m close-“ You whimpered as you steadied yourself with your hands on his muscular thighs.

Kylo squeezed your throat, “come for me.”

It didn’t take long for your orgasm to crash into you just as Fent fell lifeless on the floor. You writhed in his lap, words mixed and muttered with remnants of his name and expletives. Your body shuddered and trembled as wave after wave of intensity rolled through you. He held you down in his lap and continued to fuck you with sharp thrusts until he filled your cunt.

In the blissful haze of your orgasm, you turned your head to look at Kylo with a soft grin, “get the Sergeant next.”

“My pet wants a trail of bodies?” His hand slid up your neck to your cheek, turning your head more and pulling you into a soft kiss, his lips moving languidly against yours as his tongue brushed along your bottom lip.

[yoonsshadow]

ETERNAL - i

➳ summary ; They have died so often that death has lost its meaning; hurt so regularly that pain has become inconsequential; lost so much that they hold each other to the light of the stars. They have nothing yet they have everything, as long as they have each other. And, after centuries, they now have her.

➳ pairing ; bts!ot7 x fem!reader

➳ genres ; The Old Guard au; fantasy, historical, action, romance, alternate universe

➳ themes ; angst, fluff, death

➳ warnings ; murder, death, violence, blood, guns, burnt bodies, nudity [nonsexual], nightmares, drugs? [sleeping pills], a bunch of boys being in love

➳ word count ; 4.8k

➳ note ; I watched The Old Guard on Netflix [a serious recommend if you haven’t already seen it] and got hit with major inspiration. Nothing better than found-family and immortal soulmates. I put of a lot of time, effort and love into this, so please treat it with delicate hands. And please, please, give me feedback if you like it. Thank you, and enjoy :)

They have done this before, enough times—too many times—to be familiar with the routine. 

The nightmares, all too vivid and yet frustratingly vague, of blood and pain and death. Glimpses of a face they have never seen, memories that do not belong to them. The lingering thoughts of why another, why now, why at all?

They have done this many times, and yet it never gets easier, never makes sense.

⎯⎯⎯

When they submit to the clutches of slumber, it is beneath the glowing moonlight that shines through the broken ceiling of an abandoned church. Overgrown with vines that hold the crumbling walls together and hidden behind bushes and weeds and shadows, this building will be safe, for them. For now. It may not provide much warmth, or much shelter, but it gives them a sense of anonymity that they so desperately depend on. Right now, it hides them from the world. They are nothing but each other’s, so long as they are here.

Usually, sleep brings peace. Long ago did they learn how to banish demons from their dreams, memories of pasts both true and terrible, and so through sleep they find temporary solace from the demands of their long lives. They hold each other in their warm arms, forget about their worries if only for a brief moment. They are but seven men, seven soulmates, seven loves, existing together without burden.

Until tonight.

It is familiar, the weight that descends upon their chests, pushes against their rib cages. An invisible force both squeezing them and pulling them apart, flooding them with vague images, sounds, feelings. In sleep, they hold each other tighter, safer, but they cannot escape the myriad of memories and thoughts that fill their minds.

A pair of eyes, so brown that they are pure, so dark that they are nearly black, blink at them as sweat begins to shine upon their skin. These eyes are young, but they hold wisdom, maturity, that can only come with death. Witnessing it, causing it, experiencing it. These eyes are filled with desperation in this moment, but also a stubborn determination; they know what is coming, and yet they will continue to fight until their dying breath, as they vowed⎯⎯

⎯⎯a uniform, black, stained with dirt and blood, without any identifying marks. No dog-tags, but a tan line around a soft neck where they would normally hang. Trained muscles behind firm fabric, knowledgeable fingers clutching a military assault rifle. Steel-toed boots, scuffs through the polish, dirt in the seams and drops of red in the laces⎯⎯

⎯⎯heart beating through chest, adrenaline spiking, but something’s wrong, this isn’t supposed to happen, how did they know we were coming? Need to get out, need to get to cover, need to save⎯⎯

⎯⎯the enemies found them, caught them, have them, bound and bloodied in a dark cave or dungeon, they can’t tell. Chains rattle against stone where bodies shift for comfort, but no comfort can be found for bleeding wounds, broken bones, bruised skin. Eyes connect, know they’re saying goodbye, can’t speak but wish they could say something, apologise, curse, plead, pray. By the time footsteps stomp their way in, handgun cocked and aimed at their foreheads, they have already accepted that⎯⎯

Gasps echo in the silence as seven bodies jerk awake, trembling and sweating and aching with pains that another is experiencing. Their minds are still clouded, submerged within their dreams, but they know this routine. They know what they have just seen.

Hands scramble beneath their makeshift bedding as they reach for their journals, their pens, and begin to scribble whatever details they can remember ⎯ eyes, blood, pain, death. They’ve all clung to different images, and they desperately remember everything they can before it washes away with their wakeful clarity.

“I saw, um, eyes,” chokes the youngest, his pencil already sketching the eyelashes with careful precision. “Brown, dark. Looked like a girl’s.”

“She had to be military,” says another. “Maybe special forces? No insignia on the uniform and dog-tags were taken off. Black-ops?”

“I saw a glimpse of a scar on her hand. Might help to identify her.”

“There were others, too; a team. I have a feeling she was the leader.”

“It was a rescue operation, but I don’t think they succeeded. The enemies saw them coming. She was confused as to how.”

“Did you see the gun she was shot with? That’s military grade. It was either supplied by somebody on the force, or they were the force.”

“God, I have a headache.” Seokjin rubs his temples, a pain lingering behind his eyes but never ceding. “Never thought after three-hundred years that we’d get another one.”

Arms curl around him, a sigh breathed into his neck. “Me too, hyung.” Jeongguk nuzzles closer, finds comfort in the warmth of his lover’s broad shoulders. “I feel sorry for her. Now she’s going to have to deal with this too.”

“Hey, what did I say about pessimism?” Namjoon’s pointed look is directed towards the youngest, but the words are for everybody to hear. A reminder. “Our lives may be long, and hard, and difficult to deal with at times. But we have the opportunity to help people, to affect change, and, most importantly,” his eyes soften, “to have each other.”

“Wah, hyung’s going soft on us,” Taehyung grins, leaning his head on Namjoon’s shoulder.

Behind him, Jimin clings around his torso like a koala. “Yeah, those are big words for somebody who so often tells us how insufferable we are,” he agrees.

Sitting up, Yoongi joins the conversation with a voice still deep with sleep. “That’s because you are insufferable. But that doesn’t mean that hyungs love you any less. Eternal life would be extremely dull if we didn’t have you annoying us constantly.”

Taehyung and Jimin smile at each other, eyes glittering with something devious, and something close to love. “You all just bore witness to that,” Jimin says, pointing at Yoongi. “You all heard him say that, so you can’t yell at us for being annoying ever again!”

“Free pass!” Taehyung agrees.

Hoseok, still lounging his head in Yoongi’s lap, rolls his eyes. “Yoongi-hyung said it, but none of us did, so we can, and will, still yell at you.”

The two pout, but question it no further. They could spend centuries arguing over petty things⎯have, regrettably⎯but they’d much rather get along. For now, forever.

“Hyungs,” a small voice whispers into the silent air, drawing attention to where the maknae still hugs into Seokjin’s back. He’s pouting, and they want to coo at him, but his next words break them out of their reverie of adoration. “What about the girl?”

Your ears are ringing when you finally wake, images of your nightmares still clinging to your mind, so vivid, so real. They were filled with pain, and fear, and the bloodied faces of your soldiers as they were shot one after the other. You remember screaming for them, pleading, hoping against hope that they’d listen. But, instead, you had watched them die.

You hope that you didn’t scream aloud, didn’t wake your team. They deserve the rest, even if you couldn’t have it.

Muscles stiff and aching from a restless slumber, you shift in your cot, move to adjust the blanket. But your cot is harder than you’d like, your blanket out of reach. In fact, you can’t move your arms at all.

When your heavy eyelids finally open, you realise why your dreams had felt so real.

The stench of blood and death is so thick in the air that you can taste it, that bitter tang against your tongue bringing bile up to the back of your throat. Your body isn’t just sore, it’s screaming; it’s as though you can feel your muscles re-knitting together after being torn apart. And maybe it’s panic that crushes against your lungs, constricting your airways, or maybe it’s grief.

Because as soon as your eyes land on the dead bodies of your teammates, you can’t breathe.

Your throat is so sore from screaming and crying that the sounds escaping it are torn and scratchy, but you can’t hold them in. Not when you see your friend’s brain splattered over the wall behind her; not when you see your second-in-command holding her hands together, mid-prayer when the shot was fired.

You sob, and yell, and cry out until your throat is raw, and then when you have no voice left, you continue. You may not be dead yet⎯and for what reason, you don’t want to know⎯but you don’t think that you’ll ever truly live after this. How does one move on from their friends, their family, being slaughtered before their very eyes? How does one process the fact that they were left behind?

Through the crushing weight on your chest and the searing pain in your throat, you hear footsteps approaching. The heavy boots do nothing to hide their owner’s steps, impatient and strong, but you can’t find it within yourself to be afraid. The worst thing they can do is torture you some more, maybe even kill you, but you’d welcome death at this stage; you’d welcome reprieve from the sorrow that threatens to swallow you whole.

It’s a man, unsurprisingly, who walks through the mouth of the dark cave, ugly face covered by a mask pulled up to his eyes. He looks at you, something in his half-hidden expression that you don’t have the energy to place, and then says something in a language that you cannot understand.

Heaving a breath and swallowing blood, you meet his sharp eyes. “I don’t understand you.” Your words scratch their way out, hardly discernible, so you try again. “I won’t tell you anything, so just kill me and get it over with.”

This time he shouts, still angry but this time not at you, though he never tears his gaze off your crumpled figure. Like if he blinks, you may disappear.

Once again, hurried and heavy footsteps make their way into the room, a pair of men joining their comrade. These ones are holding guns. You can’t find it within yourself to flinch.

More foreign words are thrown at you, some that seem like questions, but your mind is too rattled, head too sore, to even try to comprehend what they might want from you. Your shoulders ache from where your arms are secured behind you, and your legs ache from hours⎯maybe days?⎯of disuse. So you sigh, level what you hope is a glare towards the two newcomers, and repeat, “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Looks exchanged between them, hesitation, and then, “You should be dead. Why are you not dead?”

In a moment of weighted silence, you try to determine if they’re serious. Because surely they aren’t asking you how you are alive while being held captive by them. But they don’t elaborate, so you’re left with an even greater migraine than before. “Are you fucking serious?”

The expletive makes them simultaneously point their rifles at you, and this time, you do stiffen. You may be feeling slightly suicidal right now, but you also have reflexes.

“I don’t know why I’m alive.” The admission is spat from between your teeth, reluctant and bitter. “Why don’t you ask whoever it was that killed the rest of my team?”

“I killed your team,” one of them says. The first one. Without a gun, obviously having thought there would be no threat in entering this dungeon. “I killed you, too, shot you in the head myself. So tell me again. Why are you alive?”

“Maybe you’re a bad shot,” you reply. “How am I to fucking know why you let me live? Now do me a favour, will you? Either let me go or shoot me for real this time.”

You don’t have time to register the sound of the gunshot before the bullet goes through your forehead.

“Anything?”

A sigh is the only response that Namjoon receives. 

“Alright,” he continues, “what do we know for sure about her?”

“Honestly, hyung?” Jimin looks up from the laptop he’s perched at. “I don’t think we even truly know if it’s a woman. We saw her⎯their⎯eyes, but not much else. Like, sure, we think it’s a woman, we’re pretty sure of it, but nothing’s certain. The visions were really vague this time around.”

“He’s right,” Yoongi agrees, never looking up from the screen of his own computer. “I’ve been searching the military databases, but it’s hard to pinpoint covert operations that don’t technically exist. We didn’t get a dog tag number, or an insignia, or even an idea of which country’s military she’s in. I hate to say it, but we might just need to wait until tonight. Get some more pieces of the puzzle.”

This is what Namjoon was afraid of, not that he was expecting anything else. His boys are good, but even they can’t work miracles.

“I feel sorry for her,” Jeongguk hums, cheek pressed into the couch cushion where he’s taken a rest from research. Not that he ever really started; that was always his hyungs’ strong points. “I mean, she’s all alone right now, probably really confused, really scared. I know I was before you all found me.”

That sentence strains their hearts, makes them pause. Jeongguk had been alone for nearly a decade before they had finally found him, lonely and of unsound mind, unaware of the curse he’d been unwillingly given. They’d spent years helping him heal, helping him accept, and now they can proudly say that he is stable and content. Happy, even, sometimes.

You, however. You are in the exact same place that he was. Maybe worse, they don’t know.

Taking slow steps towards the couch, Hoseok gently lifts Jeongguk’s legs to place them on his lap when he sits. He feels the strong calf muscles beneath his fingers as he strokes the uncovered skin, bare only for their eyes, until the young one has relaxed his worried muscles.

“I know it’s hard, Jeongguk-ie,” Hoseok says, voice just above a whisper, soft and yet sure. “I know that we all want to find her as soon as possible, but we can’t just yet. Hopefully the next dream will give us more, but until then, we just have to stay focused. Let’s not get lost in that mental spiral, okay?”

Jeongguk hums, not fully sated with the answer but understanding nonetheless. “M’kay, hyung.”

The comfortable silence in the room following their conversation doesn’t even stretch five minutes before a figure slams into the building, flourishing his arms and announcing his arrival enthusiastically.

“We’re back, bitches!”

Seokjin follows behind Taehyung, closing the church doors after the younger had slammed them open and looking exhausted. “Taehyung chatted with the cashier for half an hour before he even asked for help. We could have been back hours ago.”

“Hey.” Taehyung directs a look at the oldest. “Her outfit coordination was unlike anything I’ve seen this century. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s as old as Hoseok-ie hyung!”

“Is that a compliment or an insult?” Hoseok asks Seokjin, who is smiling despite himself.

“Definitely a compliment. I’ll admit, she reminded me of that one fashion mogul we knew in Paris. The one...Jimin, you know the one I’m talking about. Red hair, lazy eye?”

“It wasn’t a lazy eye, hyung,” Jimin corrects, “she was just keeping an eye out in all directions.”

“Yeah, anyway,” Seokjin says, “none of that matters. We got the stuff. Took a while, but we got it.”

Taehyung empties his plastic shopping bag onto a wiped-down old table, cardboard boxes falling onto the surface. “I’ve got to say, modern medicine is pretty ground-breaking. I wish we were smart enough to have invented it earlier.”

“Do you think it’ll work?” Yoongi asks, sounding a lot less interested than he actually is. “I wouldn’t think that sleeping pills would affect us.”

At this, Namjoon bites his lip. “Usually, I’d agree with you, but I’ve been doing some thinking. If the pills aren’t hurting us, our bodies shouldn’t heal too quickly; they should still have time to take effect. Just like how we can get drunk but not have liver issues, or smoke but not get cancer.”

“But smoking’s still gross,” Jeongguk mumbles.

“So,” Hoseok ponders aloud, “if we take the pills, it should prolong our sleep so that we can lengthen the dream? Do you think it’ll work?”

“We’ve never been able to test it,” Namjoon shrugs. “The worst thing that could happen is our body processes it quicker than it works, and we have a normal night’s sleep with normal visions. It’s worth a shot.”

“I think a few of us should not take the pills,” Seokjin says. “That way, if the pills really do work, some of us can still wake up normally in case of an emergency.”

Namjoon nods his head in agreement. “Okay. We’ll rock-paper-scissors it tonight. Until then, let’s rest.”

The second time you wake up, you are significantly less disorientated. You know where you are, what has happened and, most importantly, that you should definitely be dead.

You’d seen the gun, heard the click, felt the bullet spilt through your skull. You know what a killing shot is, have dealt a few yourself, so you know that you should not be opening your eyes to an intense headache right now.

An acrid odour drifts through your dazed thoughts, a stench so strong, so unpleasant, that bile immediately rises and spills from your mouth. You don’t have much to vomit, so you spit mostly water and stomach acid onto the ground beneath you as you wretch from your aching throat.

No, not the ground. Something far worse.

When the tears from your eyes clear away and you look to the ground, you see what is digging into your skin, jabbing at your muscles; you aren’t sure why, or how, but you are lain across a pile of bones and scraps of cloth, sizzling flesh still warm to the touch and sticking to you in chunks. You are atop a pile of burnt bodies, unharmed and soaked to the bone with the reeking smell of charred flesh.

Your stomach is empty, and so you can only scramble from the pile and retch.

For several minutes, all you can do is allow your body’s attempt to empty itself on the ground. Even more so than before, your mind is overwhelmed with thoughts and questions and worries, most of which lead to the fact that you are lying naked in the middle of a desert, next to a pile of burnt bodies, unharmed and somehow alive.

You are at least thankful that you are already lying on the ground when you faint.

*

There are seven pairs of eyes⎯brown, warm⎯that look at you, look at each other. Words remain unspoken, for the pupils reveal every thought, every emotion. I care for you deeply, they say, now and forever. The words are not meant for you, not yet, but they feel familiar. As if you have heard them in every past life⎯

⎯Surrounded by trees, a sight which would usually calm you but now only acts as a hindrance, you run through the familiar forest without grace. Bare feet bleed trails of red through the undergrowth, sore arms never dropping the heavy weapons that slow you down so. You should not be alone, never usually are, but now you are accompanied only by your panic and the wolves that chase you. These ones, however, do not howl or gnash their feral jaws; they calculate, the way only a human can⎯

⎯Metal hangs heavy around your lithe neck, skin raw and bleeding beneath its unrelenting grip. Fingers grab into your filthy hair, knotting into your bun. Worthless piece of filth, growls a man. You are not unfamiliar with his tone, nor his insults, though this is the first time you have felt a glob of saliva being spat onto your cheek. Can’t even follow the basic rules. Somebody really ought to make an example of you⎯

⎯This room is bright, brighter than the last, and yet somehow glooms darker than all. Shadows hang heavy in the corner where invasive eyes hide, but you can look only to the man who sits in front of you, posture relaxed despite the tensity that thickens the air. Go on, he taunts as you are shoved to your knees, the pain nothing compared to the fear that fills you at the sight of the executioner’s sword. Show us that smile of yours. Grant the world one more. Grant him, he nods towards another figure who you refuse to meet gazes with, one last dazzling grin. You do not, but you do whisper an apology under your breath, one that will never be heard⎯

⎯Gold silk hangs from your broad shoulders, the fabric draping gracefully down your tall body. Each detail stitched into the delicate robe sparkles in the candlelight, patterns that tell stories of love and power and beauty. Jeonha, somebody says to you, a face that is hidden from your view. I am sorry for this, Jeonha. Gold silk soon turns crimson when the knife plunges into your back. You are not even allowed the courtesy of looking into your killer’s eyes⎯

⎯You had always thought that you would live longer, survive the odds set against you, but you know now, as your mother tends to the gash carved into your chest, that this time, luck is not your benefactor. It is not so bad, she assures, though you know the look in her eyes, see the light in them dimmed with grief of a life not yet lost. You wish to tell her everything, anything, but the words bubble up in your throat and you struggle to spit them out. She knows, though, you can see that she knows, and her calming hand rests over your heart, which beats slower and slower with each moment. I love you, my sun, my son. Rest well. Her hand grows cold, or maybe that is you. For you no longer feel, no longer worry, only close your eyes and fall⎯

⎯Urgency pumps your blood faster, the sound echoing in your ears, as your weeping eyes search around you. Nothing, not the chaos around you nor the wound in your shoulder, can stop your wobbly legs from moving, not when you have to find him. There you are, comes his voice from behind you, and you turn so quickly that you become dizzy. But he is there, wounded yet alive, and he is offering you a smile that you struggle to return. You fall into his arms, he into yours, hold each other with all the strength that you have. And when an arrow pierces through your heart, spearing through his chest, you are connected even when you fall, lifeless⎯

*

This time, you wake with a gasp and a speeding heart, images so vivid still lingering in your mind. Your chest is still sore where your heart lies, the organ heavy with another’s grief, and you are surprised to find yourself covered in your own tears.

Still in the dirt, still nude, still alive, and still confused, you know that the only way to survive is to keep moving. Memories of dreams that had felt so real may plague your mind for a while, but you cannot dwell. You have had nightmares before, strange and also plausible ones, and you know. You know that to submit to the darkness of your own mind is a death sentence in itself. So you stand up, dust off your bare skin, and begin walking in an unknown direction.

You only cast one glance back at the bodies behind you. Your team, in all probability. Your friends. You are leaving them in the middle of nowhere.

This, too, you do not allow yourself to dwell on. Not now. Not yet.

Though the night has long since begun, darkness creeping into every corner of the room, one figure lies awake, thinking. Listening.

He is selfish, he supposes, for choosing not to sleep in a time when it can be so important. He should be allowing the visions to greet him, remembering the details, soaking it all in. Instead, he blinks away his exhaustion in exchange for wandering thoughts. He is not ready to allow another’s memories into his mind; for his to enter their’s. He has unwillingly revealed his sins to far too many already.

Hoseok is afraid. And he is tired.

Around him, his six loves breathe deeply, bodies relaxed in slumber and minds lost to the visions of their eighth soul. Some stir, occasionally, and he is sure he’s heard one of the maknaes whimper, but all is otherwise silent.

He would die a million painful deaths just to ensure that they could maintain this peace forever. He supposes he has, already. But he doesn’t regret it. Not for them.

Though the silence is calming, it also beckons his eyes closed and his mind into darkness. So, in an attempt to battle the tantalising call of sleep, he rolls over, stands up, and quietly sneaks out of the crumbling building they’ve taken shelter in.

The air outside nips at his skin, prickling goosebumps down his back and arms, but it is always chilly at this time of year, in this part of Europe. He forgets which country they’re in. Possibly close to France, but likely somewhere in Italy. He can smell salt in the air, the ocean not far away.

Yes. Italy.

Through thick undergrowth and overgrown weeds he wanders, mind idle and busy all at once. His feet take him around the perimeter of the area⎯a consequence, he supposes, of living a paranoid life⎯but his thoughts are elsewhere. On a girl he has yet to meet. On you.

How will you react, he wonders, to this life? To them? Through the brief flashes he has seen of you, you are a woman who seems steadfast, capable, and determined. But he’d also seen your team; felt the love you hold for them. Will you be able to part from the life that you can no longer lead? Will you eventually accept them as your new family?

There are too many questions, too many things to worry about. This is why he doesn’t hear the footsteps approaching him from behind until two arms wrap around his shoulders.

“You should be asleep.” The words are whispered beside his ear, warm breath fanning down his neck. He shivers, but doesn’t respond. “What’s wrong? Let me help.”

Hoseok sags into the strong embrace, allows the arms to tighten around his chest, and sighs. “I’m worried, Namjoon.” Namjoon hums, doesn’t say anything. “Is it selfish of me to not want to see her memories? To not want her in my head?”

A pair of plump lips kiss the tip of his ear. “Perhaps,” Namjoon says. When Hoseok stiffens, he pulls him closer. “But being selfish is not necessarily a bad thing. You are allowed to prioritise yourself every once in a while.” Namjoon can sense that Hoseok is not yet appeased, so he adds, “There are six of us here to take the visions when you can’t. And if you do decide to rest, there will be six of us here to hold you through it. Being selfish does not mean that you are alone.”

“I’m so tired,” Hoseok whispers, and they both know that he is not referring to his lack of sleep. “We’ve all got such baggage, so much hurt, and I wonder if adding the weight of an eighth will be too much.”

“Hey.” Namjoon gently turns Hoseok in his arms, holding him close still. They look into each other’s eyes, see everything that they have grown familiar with. That they have grown to love. “We will also have another person to help share the load. For now and forever, we are in this together. It’s okay to have doubts, or worries, but never forget that you are ours and we are yours.”

Foreheads touch and eyes close, the silence of the night engulfing them as they share each other’s heat. And here, they are okay. They still have fears, still have troubling thoughts, but they are not so bad when they are together.

“C’mon,” Namjoon mumbles. “Let’s go back inside. Whether you decide to sleep or not, we should stay with the others. You know how they can get about cuddle piles.”

This does make Hoseok breathe a laugh. “Okay. And hey, Namjoon.” He presses their lips together in a brief, soft kiss. “Thank you, my love.”

“My eternal,” Namjoon replies.

That night, they both allow sleep to take them. They join the others in dreams of bloodshed, heartache, and death. And they hold each other a little closer. And they are okay.

< prev ⎯ next >

[the-obelisk]

Grief - Fae Collection

Loki x Reader

Summary: A mission gone wrong. The one where he had watched you fall at the hands of a mad man. And also, watched as you crumple in grief at the twist of fate.

“Unhand her or I will kill you myself, mortal.” Loki stepped forward in a protective stance, anger etched into his expression.

The older man looked at him, clutching you even tighter than before, taunting the trickster. “Ah, ah, ah. Don’t play fake hero with me, you—”

“What do you want from her?” Sam asked with urgency in his tone. He was unsure why he had taken you, with no attempt to engage with anyone else.

The man pressed his nose against your head, inhaling deeply. He smiled through the strands of your hair and stared at the two men before him sadistically, “She is my safety ticket out.”

 He smirked. “And by the looks of it, his weakness.” He gestured to Loki.

Sam looked at him with determination, “You know you won’t make it out of here alive. Let her go.”

“But you won’t shoot me if she is my living shield, now would you?” He taunted Sam.

The raven-haired 50-year old scientist looked at you as you felt something sharp press against your back, “Now tell me, agent, what is that little light trick of yours?”

And in that moment all three of you had realized, the mission now posed a real problem.

And you were at the center of it.

The mission was simple: Full team onboard. Part of the team moved to search and secure the civilians, the others were tasked to take out the target.

And there you all were.

One hundred miles from the Avengers compound, it was suspected that Dr. William Endo was kidnapping recent runaways and outcasts from nearby small towns to experiment on.

Tony was sure it would be a day long mission. In and out, until it wasn’t.

Sick of the world over run by super-powered individuals, Endo wanted to harness and transfer those powers into what he deemed his own subservient human army that were effectively trained to combat any threat through one of Hydra’s old brainwashing techniques.

This time all super-powered.

And his end goal: To sell the individuals to highly volatile regimes and dealers on the black market.

Endo had seemed to have his contingency plan all in place. One wrong move and the shout of a code word, the entire compound could be effectively blown up from the bottom up.

Wanda, Natasha, Rhodey, Bucky, and Clint were moving in to secure those in the compound— the issue was that they were underground and the people held against their will were scattered, most likely still being experimented on.

Steve spoke over the comms, “Team Two, heat signatures in the left wing, second level. Thor, back up is needed in the courtyard.”

The team quickly moved. Meanwhile, you, Loki, and Sam had cornered the mastermind in the courtyard.

“Diversion.”

Sam projected his thought to you, and in that instant, you made a fast move to turn around and face Endo. You had planned to blast him with your light, but on the defense, he moved in retaliation.

Taking the blade he held against your back, the man pushed it through your upper abdomen as you conjured your light.

Sam took the shot and Loki ran to catch you before you fell.

Rushing beside you, Sam noticed the pained, hurried look on Loki’s face as he pulled the blade out. His eyes had widened at the sight of the blade itself.

“Brother.” Thor called as he landed on his feet opposite to the two men.

Loki looked up at him in fear, an expression Sam had never seen. “What’s happening? Why aren’t you healing her?”

Moving his eyes to the blade in Loki’s hand, Thor spoke “He cannot heal her.”

“What? He’s healed the others before!” Sam looked at him with confusion and anger.

You were already falling limp and there wasn’t a way to get you to a medic soon enough.

“It is bronze. Deadly to the Fae. No magic can heal the wound.”

Sam shook his head calling all to the courtyard. “Man down in the courtyard!”

Confirmations swarmed in at the other members running towards the location.

Loki held your form, tears forming as he called for you to stay awake. “Stay with me, little one. Do not leave me so soon.”

You looked up at him noting his quivering voice. He wasn’t angry or hurt, but defeated. The idea of you soon slipping from him before he could ever experience all the joys you could possibly bring to him had broken him.

He was reminded of Frigga and her death. Two women that had always seen past the monster and into the soul of a tortured man, now leaving him.

Thor stared in fear. He was her protector, how could he had let this happen. The blonde-man stared helplessly. He couldn’t help you or heal you.

All he could do was simply watch as you began to fade and Loki’s heart breaking in front of him.

“I am not her.” You spoke softly. The three looked at you as your form slowly changed to into a man that would stand a foot taller than you.

Thor’s eyes widened at the sight of the 30-year old mocha skinned man, and kneeled down. “Lord Ambrose.”

Loki looked at Thor in shock. This was the man that had swore Thor in as Y/N protector. “She is safe.”

Sam stared in utter shock. Completely unaware that the man had used a glamour to mirror a version that looked exactly like you.

And then you had entered the courtyard alongside Natasha and Wanda in hurry.

“What can I do?” You said out of breath from running across the lot.

Only you and Loki had the power to heal, however, yours were more helpful with deeper wounds while Loki had limitations to his healing properties.

It had taken practice, but Loki offered some of Frigga’s old journals. It was a natural talent you had seemed to possess.

Loki looked up at you with tears, “Y/N?”

He was sure he had lost you and yet, you stood with your gloves off and ready to heal whoever needed it.

“Holy shit.” Sam mumbled as he stood up to look at you in utter shock. But you were confused at his reaction to you.

Noting the bottom half of a man with Loki blocking the first half from view, you inhaled.

You move to come closer but Thor stopped you, “It was Ambrose.”

The mention of your guardian shocked you. You were now truly confused at why Ambrose would be there, in the compound, especially in this moment. However, you felt the instinctual connection between you two dwindling. And then it had struck you— he was fading.

“He glamoured himself as you to protect you.” Thor offered a further explanation. You looked at him with an expression he couldn’t interpret entirely. He then moved aside revealing Ambrose’s barely breathing form. Loki kneeled next his form with an haunted look on his face. Once again, Thor spoke— this time in a quiet voice. “You must say your goodbyes, Y/N.”

You dashed over in a hurry looking to Loki who only shook his head. He offered only one word confirming why Ambrose could not be saved, “Bronze.”

Looking back down at your guardian, you placed your hand over his gash, “It is okay, father. Accept my life force.”

Life force. It was the one thing that could save any soul. Transferring your life into the body of another was no light feat. The giver would perish, and the recipient would live.

Loki looked at you with fear in his eyes. You were unharmed and yet here you were ready to die for the second time— but this time, it would be real.

Rarely had others of your kind offered theirs unless it was moments of pure desperation as it signed their death warrant, but this was Ambrose. And to you, his life had much more meaning than your own.

It was the ultimate sacrifice.

He was the leader of your realm, your guardian, your father, brother, friend, and closest companion. You now understood why he feared allowing you to make a life on Midgard instead of remaining on your plane.

“N-no... you are destined for much more. It is time for me to join the others in the Summerland.” He spoke quietly.

His skin began to desecrate, leaving you to shake your head. “Please, don’t leave me. I never should have left your side. I was wrong— I was selfish. Our people will have no one to turn to.”

“But they will. Anders has been prepped to lead one day. It is his time.” You cried at the sound of your brother stepping up to the plate, it was a role he never truly wanted. “Send him my wishes. Tell him, he has come of age.”

“Oh, Ambrose.” You barely choked out.

This was the man who had taken you and your brother in after fleeing from war on your realm. Anders held you in his arms at age seven, scared with his newborn sister in his hands when he appeared on the plane you would call home for hundreds of years. Your brother, still young, never knew of your origins and with his memory erased, he would never know. But Ambrose— as elusive as he was— was all knowing and had taken you both in.

He spoke even softer, “You protect this world as Anders protects our realm. Your mother would be very proud.”

“My mother?”

“I see her. She is quite beautiful...”

Closing his eyes, he smiled softly. “Aelsa, take me home.” Loki looked at Ambrose in surprise of the name he mentioned. He knew exactly who he had referred to. He looked at Thor, who had his eyebrows furrowed. Both drawing the connection of your origin.

For you, he name rang of familiarity but you were too consumed by the soft shimmer that surrounded Ambrose’s form. He was leaving and you could do nothing to stop him.

And within mere seconds all you held was the dust of his now death. Fairy dust, often claimed by folklore. The magical finality of all deceased Fae.

The world had seemed to go quiet around you. And all you could think of was all the loss you had faced, even before your arrival to the place you would call home above Midgard.

And your guardian, your only true parent in your life, vanished.

“Dove?”

You looked to Loki who seemed to be filled with utter concerned as he pulled you in noting the tears in your eyes. You clutched to him tightly, while a vicious sob erupted from your lips.

“I- I can’t. It’s my fault—”

His hand rested on the back of your head while you cried. Loki was thankful that you were unharmed. The thought of losing you was a reality he could not bare to imagine, but the sight of your heartbreak pained him so.

He could feel the deep sorrow and pain roll off of you. And in your mind, you were consumed with a plethora of thoughts. Ones of grief, of guilt, failure, anger, and confusion.

Loki only held you tighter as your hands gripped his shirt. He sent you emotions of love and comfort but your walls propelled them away.

“I did this.” You cried out. He held you tighter and kissed your head, “My little dove,” he cooed to you.

He had no way of knowing what to say. In truth, no one knew what to do. What can one say to someone who had watched their loved one die so instantly, so unexpectedly?

Thor ushered Natasha, Wanda, and Sam away instructing them to proceed with the rest of the mission of bringing the victims home.

Sam followed the two women out of the courtyard, informing Steve and Tony what had occurred. Thor would most likely fill them in when he returned.

Turning back to Loki, he nodded and walked away. He knew the last thing you would want were minds buzzing all around you, and so he parted.

Leaving you and Loki to the silence around you.

[secretsniper3]

Part 2: Wet..

I wake, rolling over my alarm says 08:00, my day starts now. Blinking and drinking in my surroundings im surprised that im not bound anymore, Master probably released me from my situation before he too went to sleep, makes sense since I still have my morning routine to do. Spreading my thighs my hand creeps under the sheets and massages my clit, moisture instantly wetting my fingers as i rub up and down, fingers dancing expertly over my throbbing clit, being denied for so long my reaction is second nature now as my back arches up off my bed as my hand continues its assault on my senses. 1 edge moments later my mind abuzz with desire. Another edge, 3 to go and my morning can really begin. On and on my fingers go, dancing circles around my needy clit. Stopping just shy of another orgasm, 3 edges down. Pushing a finger and then another into my wet pussy I rub the walls and pull out seconds later. 4 edges down, returning my fingers to my box as my other hand clutches my breast, back still arched high, I slams down to the bed and thrusts my hands to my pillow. 5 edges done.

Climbing out of bed I go and brush my hair and then my teeth. A outfit is already laid out by my Master. A latex sleeveless shirt and matching pants, black high heels and a corset. My day will clearly be a tough one for me. Looking around I cannot find anything even resembling underwear. Knowing my punishment would be beyond measure if I were to dress my pussy myself I don my latex outfit for the day. Shirt, then the pants, sliding easily up my smooth legs as my juices made for handy lubricant. Pressing the latex on my pussy I pause. A simple deep breath removes my hand from what I know is forbidden to me now my morning edges are complete. Sitting on the bedside I clip my heels on so it doesnt fall off and put on my corset, only being able to loosly cinche it without help.

With great care, I walk out my bedroom door, slow paces in my high heels, my pussy rubbing against the latex with every step sending chills down my spine making my mind drift to my little buzzer throbbing away relentlessly. down the stairs, Master was waiting for me. Standing before him I assume my position on my knees, legs open palms up, head down.

“Good morning Master” I say keeping my head low.

“Morning my dear, sleep well i hope, i have a few fun things for you to enjoy today” my Master sounds eager.. its a little unsettling.

Standing up at his command I follow him to the dining room. Breakfast is already served. Im stunned, something is going on and Im concerned by what this means, my Master has almost never made breakfast for me. Heading to my seat I spot it. A large dildo, right where my pulsing pussy would lay, with my Masters guiding hand I ease down onto the large toy. The latex over my pussy parting at the intrusion! how could I not notice that gap when I put it on?? sliding down the thick cock my pussy serving to lubricate it all the way to the base. With a wet shlop Im completely full and I havnt even touched my bacon and eggs! perhaps a drink to calm my nerves, as I take a large gulp I feel warm.. a little too warm. Looking to my Master, he confirms my suspicions by raising his own glass. My pussy now spasming around the dildo as the aphrodisiac runs its course as I lean forward and stifle a moan.

My Master laughs at my situation. “Eat up my dear, your going to need your strength.” he says sending a flurry of chills down my spine leading right to my throbbing womanhood! gasping for air I raise a shaking hand to my fork and eat my food, likely spiked as well.. yes, its spiked. With each piece I swallow I feel the heat burn hotter, like a raging inferno my body craving the 1 thing my mind knows it must never have without consent! finishing my drugged meal my Master takes me by the hand and raises me up. Stopping several times to prevent a unauthorised orgasm. Leading me to the play room I see a device I have never seen before but it scares the hell out of me.

Standing, or lying in the middle of the room is a series of Stock restraints circling a large padded seat, leading me over to it, my Master lays me down flat. locking my wrists in their own personal Stock holders, followed by my ankles. Breathing faster at this development and my need constantly rising im hoisted in the air by the cushion im laying on, my restraints following suit. Standing beside me my Master reveals more holes in my latex, a hole per nipple with which he inserts a suction cup with a wire and covering it with the latex again, leaving just the wire exposed. moving down to my clit he reveals a suction cup, its thin and long and now, attached to my maddening, throbbing buzzer, he begins pumping. My eyes fly open in a combination of fear and arousal as my clit starts to get sucked into the tube, further and further its pulled from its hood till I feel it. Something hard is touching my clit, looking down Im greeted with a wire, pressing the tip of my isolated clit with the means to make me thrash around were I not restrained already. My drug ridden mind flooding with thoughts of my soon to be, hellish day that started too calmly as my Master slides a thick metal cock into my ass. I cant see it but I can bet theres a wire attached to it as well.

Moving to my head Master puts a dildo gag in my mouth and a latex hood over my head, my long red hair pulled through the back and the hood sealed tight. I cant see, I can barely hear and I can only weakly moan around this toy in my mouth, and as my thoughts go to the toy in my mouth, it expands, and again, and again! My mouth now completely full with cock my pleas and moans now a dull grunt, barely audible to those outside my hood. My pussy feels cold air, Master has moved the latex away from my drooling slit, heat radiating off my hungry hole, I breathe deep as Master presses his tongue against my slick folds. If I could scream, I would have. instead my legs tremble uncontrollably and my arms spasm, locked in my restraints thats all I really can do. Master licks again and again drawing more fluid from me. My breathing now very audible as air rushes in and out through my nose, Then I feel it. its coming, shit IM CUMMING! and then.. pure agony. My nipples cop it first, but only by microseconds, as they light up with electricity, followed by my ass and worst of all, my throbbing clit. My eyes shoot up into my skull as Im torn down from the plateau I was cresting mere moments ago! My pussy spasms in need as my Masters tongue only redoubles its assault knowing he has me, right where he wants me.

A full hour passes, and Masters Tongue leaves my pussy as another orgasm is slammed away by the electricity as this setup is designed to deny, not reward so I scream into my inflated cock gag. A few moments pass by idle as Im left to stew in my burning need, electricity occasionally zapping my nipples to make sure im denied release from my drug fuelled arousal. I hear Master say something outside my latex hood, I cant make out the words but he seems to know that I was only moments from cumming just now and thats led his to this pause to let me calm down, if that were possible with the drugs coursing through my veins and the intoxicating latex still coating my body and head Im swimming in a sea of arousal and Im not allowed to cum even a little even in my intense exhaustion im allowed only this peace of not being dragged kicking and screaming to more denial! A familiar sensation returns as Masters tongue reaffixes itself to my Labia and once again im lit of with electricity as another orgasm is beaten back, Round 2 begins.

2 Whole hours of torturous orgasm denial at Masters hands and tongue pass as im finally lowered to the ground, it only took a minute to unlock my limbs from the hellish devices that held me down, and another minute to free my ass, nipples and clit from their own hellish devices. A flick to the clit confirms Im still conscious. My Master picks me up and carries me to the nearby lounge, there he removes my hood and gag, and rests my head on his lap and runs his fingers through my sweat soaked hair. Stripping me of my latex suit, leaving only my heels on he continues my massage, as I regain my senses slowly.

“Master.. Thank you for training this slave to serve” I say weakly, as he cups my cheek with his tender hand, I roll over and fish out his throbbing cock and begin sucking, after all that pain and denial i need something I love, i need Masters cum in my mouth to savour the taste then swallow like the Good Slave I am. Eventually im rewarded with a mouthful as i drink every drop im given and swallow, it really is delicious to me now, I cant go back to a normal life, I belong to my Master.

Taking me to the loungeroom Master instructs me to edge for my lunch. A simple task but as he turns to leave he gives me the number. 30 edges.. My pussy pulses again and the flood gates reopen, I still havnt had that orgasm my body just remembered it was desperate for. oh god could I really do 30 in a row without stopping or spilling over? My Master seems to think so. Already days into my denial and with drugs wracking my brain I begin my edges. It only took a hour but I finally got them all. Another dose of drugged lunch and Im back to normal, if horny out of my mind is normal. The rest of my day is fairly standard compared to my morning training, part of me wants to do it again but not any time soon.

Pleasuring my Masters cock I polish his shoes after that in my favourite maid outfit, remembering to always bend at the waist, never the knees, my Master loves a good show. My daily chores complete Im taken to the shower and cleaned by my Master, taking great care not to rub over my pussy too hard. A lovely steak for dinner with some wine, I could hardly taste the drug in that wine, but my pussy sure felt it. My Master, eager to set me to bed attaches a chastity belt tightly to my pussy. I dont see the point as I would never touch without permission.. right?

[fantasyfan]

Coming Out: Nico di Angelo Oneshot

Summary: Nico summons Bianca to talk to her, and ends up spilling a lot more than he intended to. Characters: Nico and Bianca di Angelo, Hades Slightly angsty

(I apologize in advance if I get any Italian wrong, or put the words in the wrong place. I only used two words, but Google Translate was used for both of them.)  There also might be some italics missing, since I copy pasted from Google Docs, so apologies and if you think an italic is needed, reply to the post or smthn and I’ll add it. 

Without further ado, here it is!

12-year-old Nico sat on his bed, head in his hands. The Labyrinth was gone, and the battle was over, gone and over like all the praise he received. 

For once, Nico had been a part of the camp; he’d sat around the campfire, eaten and laughed, having fun. 

But all it took was a week for the excitement to die down, and the other campers became wary of him.

He was only 12, for Gods’ sake! Why were they so scared? Sure, he was a son of Hades, but Percy was a son of Poseidon (and older than himself, Nico might add), yet they all gushed over him.

This annoyed Nico to no end, so eventually, he found his way to his father’s palace, back to his old room. The one Hades had offered him after he ran away from Camp Half-Blood. 

The room was hardly touched. Nico had only spent a few days here before running off, trying to find a way to bring his sister back. 

Of course he’d been convinced to let her rest at peace. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to talk to her.

“Bianca,” he greeted softly, reaching out to touch her before drawing his hand back, reminding himself he couldn’t. 

“Nico,” Bianca smiled, brushing ghostly lips over his forehead. “Mio fratello.”

Nico closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, trying to imagine that Bianca was really here with him, in a physical body instead of a ghostly one.

Sighing, he sat back down on the bed. Bianca was here, able to talk to him at least. He couldn’t resurrect her, so speaking to her was the next best option. 

His mind subconsciously piece things together and he had a horrible thought. Panic shot through him as he jumped up and tried to grab Bianca by her shoulders, hands falling right through her image.

Gritting his teeth, Nico crammed his hands into his pockets and instead fixed Bianca with the most serious gaze he could muster.

“Are you going to reincarnate?” Though they were hidden from sight, deep in his jean pockets, Nico’s hands were clenched tightly into fists, knuckles white. In his head, he said a prayer to the Gods who screwed up his life so badly, hoping with all his might that his sister would say no. 

“Oh Nico,” Bianca began, looking at him regretfully, eyes filled with sadness. 

That was all the answer he needed. Trying to control his panic and the tears threatening to form, Nico clenched his hands even tighter. Nails cut into skin, and the son of Hades could feel blood seeping out from underneath his fingers. Even worse than that was the fact that even Nico himself could feel the absolute fear radiating off him. 

If Bianca reincarnated, then he would fully, truly, lose her. She was his only family, and Nico felt tears pricking his eyes at the thought of being completely alone.

“Don’t.” It was all he said, biting his lip to try and keep the tears from escaping.

Bianca stared at him in surprise, and Nico realized what he just said probably sounded like to his sister. 

Reminding himself that no matter what he wanted, it was his sister’s (regretfully ended, now ghost) life, and he couldn’t guilt her into staying in Elysium forever, just so he could be happy.

“Don’t answer my question,” Nico whispered, voice cracking. 

It was what he meant, when he said ‘Don’t’ but certainly not what he wanted. “Don’t tell me, Bianca. Not now, and not before you go.” 

Breathing sharply, his nails were now digging even deeper into the wounds they had inflicted. The pain was the tipping point for the tears that had been gathering in his eyes, and he began to cry, biting his tongue in a fruitless attempt to hold them back.

Gasping as he unclenched his fists, Nico drew his hands out of his pockets. There were four cuts on his right palm, each around the size of a fingernail. Identical wounds were on his left hand, and Nico bit his lip, watching as blood slowly seeped out, crimson red against his pale skin.

“Nico!” Bianca frowned, biting her lip in concern as she reached out for his injuries before realizing she couldn’t help.

That gesture hurt even more than his palms, and Nico clenched his teeth to keep his silent tears at that volume.

Trying to still his desperately shaking hands, Nico pulled open the nightstand drawer. Inside were squares of ambrosia and bottles of nectar that Hades had put for him, and Nico silently thanked his father. 

Pouring the golden liquid over his hands, Nico could feel cuts slowly closing, and the physical pain was soon gone with the injuries. 

Emotional hurt was harder to fix, and usually couldn’t be resolved with Gods’ food. That didn’t mean Nico wouldn’t try though, so he lifted the bottle to his mouth and took careful sips of the golden liquid. 

Pulling some ambrosia out as well, he slowly ate it, restricting himself so he didn’t accidentally burn up from consuming too much of the Gods’ food.

By the time Nico was done, the yellow square was gone, as was about half the bottle of nectar. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked back at his sister, who had patiently waited while her brother silently sobbed while taking swigs of nectar and bites of ambrosia. 

She was sitting on the bed next to him, handout of pure spite and anger, he cursed that Bianca was able to touch the bed but not him.

Using the (now) healed palm of his hand to brush away stray tears, Nico cleared his throat. 

“Bianca, since um, you’re not, uh, not,” his voice cracked and he stumbled over his words, but Nico forged on. “Since you’re not going to be here much longer, I figured I might as well make the most out of this time.” 

Before Bianca could say something to comfort him, Nico blurted it out. “I’m gay.” 

A ghost of a smile appeared on his sister’s face, and she reached out as if to touch his face, cup it with her hands like she used to.

“It’s okay, mio fratello.” She moved closer to him, and Nico could swear he felt her breath by his ear. “I am too,” Bianca breathed. 

Nico managed to somehow choke on nothing, beginning to gasp and wheeze as he clawed at his throat. Vigorously coughing, he stared at his sister in shock as he pounded his chest, trying to get air in.

Bianca nearly burst out in raucous laughter, but with a lot of struggling, she managed to keep it to a few quiet giggles. 

When he was finally able to speak, Nico simply choked out, “You are?” before blushing so hard he looked like he was still choking. 

“Yes, Nico, I am.” Binaca smiled, though looked slightly concerned at his reddening face and so pointed to the bottle of nectar on the drawer. 

Nico took a sip of the drink, letting the cool liquid run down his tortured throat, which hurt like hell from his (concerningly long) coughing fit.

Bianca snarkily pointed to the closet while her brother drank, smirking. “Do you want to try this the proper way?” she asked, batting her eyelashes innocently.

Nico rolled his eyes but complied, chuckling as he slipped into the closet. He stayed there for a good minute before bursting out, wearing a colourful pride shirt with many accessories.

“I’m gay, Gods dammit!” he screeched, looking like a rainbow in the cemetery, with his messy black hair and pale skin. 

Bianca burst out laughing at the thought, proudly watching her brother as ghostly tears (Ghosts can cry. Who knew?) threatened to trickle down her cheeks.

“I’m not going to ask where you got those things,” she smiled, pretending to brush an unruly curl from his forehead. The two of them ignored the fact that the hair stayed right where it was when her hand passed straight through it.

“Nico, go show Hades. Tell him.” Nico’s eyes widened and his mouth hung open like a fish’s. Bianca smiled again, her brother’s facial features hilarious. “Nico, I’m serious though. Come on, before your courage wanes.” 

“Why should I tell him?” Nico asked, scoffing as he turned away. The two had been chatting for a few minutes about all the troubles of being gay when Bianca ruined the mood by demanding he tell their father.

“Nico.” His sister’s voice forced him to look at her, straight into translucent eyes. “I’m not your only family. When I’m gone, you still have Hades.” She chose not to add the part about how Camp Half-Blood could be his family too, if he let them get closer. One step at a time.

“Hades,” Nico snarled, putting as much venom as he could in the name, “killed our mother. Hades put us in this situation.”

He knew that neither of those were true, but said them anyway; truthfully, he was just scared, finding excuses so he wouldn’t have to tell his father.

“Nico,” Bianca sighed quietly. Eyebrows raising for a second as she began to fade, Bianca quickly understood what was happening.“You’ve summoned me for far too long already, I have to go.” Nico let out a strangled sound, restraining himself from reaching out to try and keep her here with him, because he knew it would be useless. 

“It was lovely talking to you again, and I’m sure that Father will say the same when you tell him.” Nico’s lips thinned and he frowned, and Bianca knew that look well. “Please, for me, mio fratello?” She asked, voice barely audible as she faded away, back in Elysium.

Nico could never resist it when his sister spoke in Italian. It would only be used when she was expressing extreme admiration or happiness, which was why he absolutely melted when Bianca called him ‘mio fratello.’ 

That was also why he was tugging on a jacket to cover his pride shirt, buttons, pins, and bracelets as he went to find Hades.

Besides, what kind of brother would he be if he didn’t grant his sister’s last, true, dying wish? Nico felt like Bianca had been waiting for him to summon her one last time before choosing to be reborn. To let them have one more conversation before she was truly gone.

Pushing that thought away, Nico wandered the halls of Hades’ vast palace, looking in every room for the God himself.

“Father?” Nico finally picked the right room, opening the door to find Hades in a chair, reading a book.

“Yes?” He didn’t even bother to look up from whatever he was reading, and that slightly deflated Nico’s already waning confidence. 

“I have something to tell you.” Anxiously shifting from foot to foot in the doorway, Nico awaited his father’s response. 

Eyebrows raising by a fraction, Hades raised a hand, beckoning his son into the room. Nervously shuffling in, Nico stood a good meter away from the God of the Underworld, afraid. 

Not that the distance would do much since, well, Hades was the God of the Underworld.

“Do continue,” his father drawled, idly flipping a page as he spoke. 

“It’s kind of a serious confession,” Nico mumbled, almost visibly shaking from having to restrain himself from turning tail and running, as well as the feeling of absolute terror bubbling in his stomach.

Still not bothering to look up, Hades rolled two fingers, gesturing for him to continue.

“I’m...g-ga-” Nico stuttered, already feeling his face heat up. It took him a good minute to compose himself and finish his short sentence, during which Hades hardly blinked an eye at the awkwardness. “I’m gay,” he finally managed to choked out, voice barely above a whisper.

Immediately, Nico began to panic. His dad was the literal God of the Underworld, so even if he died, then he could still be sent to the Fields of Punishment. Afterall, who cared about the small Italian boy enough to argue with a God?

Bianca cares, he reminded himself. But she’s dead, you idiot! She’s a ghost, and going to be reborn soon. If you go to the Field of Punishment, what will she be able to do?

Panic overwhelmed him, and Nico was on the verge of hyperventilating. Until his father spoke and somehow calmed every nerve in his body.

“Okay.” That was it. One syllable to assure Nico that everything was alright. His breathing slowed, but he wasn’t so easily convinced that Hades was okay with him being gay.

“Father, I don’t think you heard me properly. Perhaps you were distracted with reading? I said I was gay.” Unzipping his jacket, Nico let it fall to the floor and made wild gestures at his clothes and accessories. 

“Nico, I heard you fine. What’s your confession?” Hades’ eyes flicked up but he hardly seemed surprised at the rainbow wear, going back to read his book right after looking.

“I…” Nico stared in disbelief. Was Hades just dismissing his coming out as if it were a regular occurrence? Dismissing the fact that he was gay as though it hadn’t been something that Nico had fought tooth and nail to keep secret?

“Nico?” The God prompted, flipping another page.

“That’s it. That was the confession,” Nico whispered. “I’m gay. That’s the confession.” For the first time in their (admittedly short) conversation, Hades properly looked up from his book, frowning at Nico. 

“That’s your confession?”

The boy silently nodded, looking at his feet. “Well, I...I thought you’d be mad or something.” 

“Mad at the fact you’re gay.” Hades (somehow) looked Nico in the eyes (even though he was staring at the floor as though it were the most interesting thing in the world) for confirmation, and he nodded again.

Sighing, Hades closed his book and stood, gently placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m not and won’t be mad.” 

“Really?” NIco gasped, looking up at him with shining eyes.

“Of course,” Hades scoffed. “There’s no way you can be more gay than Apollo, and he’s been my nephew for thousands of years.” He paused for a second before summoning a chair. “That reminds me. You are long overdue for a Greek Mythology review if you think that I, a Greek God, would have a problem with a gay son.”

[myobsessionraven]

Right where you left me

Arcade (chapter 7)

An: i usually avoid writing these but its my BIRTHDAY today so hehe.

*these are Beastboy's thoughts and the 'him' is a reference to Damian*

Narrator's P.O.V (Point Of View)

He laid on the green comforter baffled as all of his thoughts jogged around his memories; the joy and the grief, all of it. The times he found happiness in the least all because he grew from the worst; the bliss of waking up to the happy chattering, pointless question of his friends and blazing alarms. The times he remained content.

Today was not one of those days; not one of the days he found a way to avoid, to distract himself from the memories he kept reminiscing on, kept going back to even after all the rejection. The times where his mind wandered off to the same question

'If it was supposed to be their fairy tail then why did she let him in ?' He always gave himself the same answer yet it never nourished his broken heart, bloomed his wilted thoughts. He needed to realise that two made a whole, filling up a half with daydreams of desire could never achieve a pair of one.

It was so hard on his mind and his body, his heart and his soul trying to realise she has someone in her heart who isn't him and possibly never was.

He hated this feeling of envy to someone he didn't know; he needed to take accountability of his thoughts and control his toxicity towards a person he never took a chance to meet. He kept looking back on the past finding solace in times when he was the only prince in her life even when he knew that time was a delusion he created.

5 years ago...

He looked at his four acquaintance as excitement rattled through his body and flowed through his veins. It was hard to believe someone had accepted him after all the torture and the pain he had to endure in his life. He had found himself a fraternity. It was all finally coming to a fresh beginning, a new page.

A new chapter was unfolding in front of his eyes in a book filled with angst. It  seemed to him as if all the grief had led to this very moment-led to this tower with two cool dudes and two beautiful ladies. It never helped that both the woman of the house were nose bleedingly gorgeous and breathtakingly perfect, it very well might have been his hormones speaking up for him but he didn't care he was happy to be there, happy to be there with them- all of them.

He found each acquaintance of the house unique and attractive in specific ways yet one was more intriguing than the rest; more mysterious, a puzzle he couldn't put together supported by her eccentric behaviour. Her name was Raven. He was indecisive about his opinions towards her at first, he had days he wished to crack her up along with her fickle behaviour towards people there were  days where he wanted to give up and accept defeat let triumph shove a tongue in his face as he sulked in a disaster of his thoughts.

Yet he continued on, let that special something draw him towards her, tie their souls together with an invisible thread thereby he continued his observation and obsession with her.

Told her jokes took any chance he had to spend time with her until they became friends with misunderstandings ever so often trying to break their iron grip but it never mattered when he knew they would always find the sunlight behind those grey clouds; it never mattered when he knew they would find it together.

4 years ago...

It was intimate the small gestures he made towards her or anyone yet it never felt that way. Not to him. It was always natural with his behaviour of expressing his feelings through his hugs and touch rather than words.

Like the lingering moment beneath their wandering gaze towards the gleaming stars tinkling in the dark night. They were setttled in a comforting silence- a rare occasion with his mouth that never seemed to shut up. Yet none of them had to speak anything both dazzled by the beauty of the stars that lit up the black sky.

Living in the tall tower isolated from the town had its perks and one of them had to be the view; the experience of sunrise in the dawn, sunset and the stars in the night sky.

He let his brain drift in a thoughtless wreck just lying on the concrete beneath him with his forearm as pillow.

He suddenly felt a feather light weight ponder down on his shoulder he looked up a bit crooked from his state towards the long map of the roof only to be met with tufts of lavender hair lying on his shoulder as the owner swept away in a peaceful slumber.

He let a smile grace his lips as he continued to enjoy the view until Raven wasn't the only one sleeping peacefully on the top of the roof.

3 years ago...

He laid on the bed, white sheets spread through it's surface as grimacingly intoxicating scent of medicine hit his nose like a donation to his million dollar headache. He tried to find some comfort in the the growing pain only to be met with a harsh tug of a hand.

"Ouch rae that hurt" he complained

"Not my fault you stole robin's bike once again and drove it so recklessly around the town" he wasn't expecting a reply yet her witty remark was no surprise to him too.

"I thought your doctors magic was supposed to heal my head completely" he whined out his voice showcasing the true depth of his pain.

Like most of his painful quarrels this was again unheard by her tone deaf ears as she occupied herself with his head and let her eyes reply to the remark shooting a harsh glare his way before she spoke her feelings out in words too.

"I can't completely heal you Beastboy you know that, now stop whining like a child we both wouldn't have been here if it wasn't for you not wearing a helmet"

"I couldn't have rae it would ruin my handsome looks- he added a dramatic sigh for good measures before starting from where he left off-besides no one like helmets if they did they would be called heaven-mates " he cracked up on his own joke for a second forgetting about the world as tiny droplets of tears fell from his eyes his mouth cracking up with his echoing laughter.

"_"

"_"

" the self control I have over my hand right now to not hit you over the head is just as strong as the displeasure of every girl after seeing you "

"Hey I'm handsome and you know it" eyebrows wiggle

"Never mind I'm hitting you on the head"

2 years ago...

He thought she was cute. It didn't help that he had started possessing a minuscule crush on her over the course of the years he spent with her. He adored everything she did, he noticed her presence before herself. He found her stunning even after a fight with the green gooey monster that haunted their town. He adored it all the arguments and the moments, the hugs and the swats it was always a bonus of being with her; a combination of the evil and the pure, a combination of the yin and the yang.

Though none of these things altogether could build up to the one thing, that one action,the one feeling his body adopted when she blushed. Yes it was raven's blush that he reckoned the most spectacular. He'd only seen her blush one time in the 3 years they spent together, it didn't help the blush that adored her puffy cheeks was not reciprocation to one of his corny pickup lines but this time he hoped to make the above statement true.

"Hey rae"

No reply

He would continue anyways he was used to her methods of disrupting his profound confidence.

"I was blinded by your beauty,

I will need your number and name for insurance purposes" he said a cheesy grid that settled on his face but it fell as quickly as it stood as his met her obviously annoyed expression with the compliment of an eye roll. Well he could always give it another shot he decided.

"Don't get scared if a fat guy with a white beard kidnaps you tonight,

I told Santa what I wanted"

"That was an original" was her sarcastic remark

Hey what if he stole it from a guy on tik tok it was the feelings and effort that mattered... right? He heard the red alarm blaze once again signifying their call of duty. It was alright he would bring himself enrapture in the fact she responded... for now.

1 year ago...

They were fighting again all because of him. A stranger who managed to ruin their-his life to it's full extent or at least that's what he wished to believe, that's what gave him a break from those dreadful nights, that's what made him consume the food without having the urge to pile it out above all that's what made him stop blaming himself. He knew it was never late enough to step back and let the harsh realisation hit him; slap him with all its worth. But with at what cost? It would be hard upon him, it would crack him up and he was not ready for that. Yet he knew all along in his mind that he could live without her love but never without her. So he'll just protect her from afar hope for the best anything to prevent him from losing her, anything to see her presence each day leave this argument behind them stay up at nights to make sure she was safe that's all after all he could do with breaking her happiness.

——————————————————

[cherrywoes]

ii. come with me, destroy the masses.

tw (general): graphic descriptions of blood, gore, sexual content, violence, homicide, physical torture, psychological torture, rape, dubcon, drugs, overdosing, suicide, cannibalism (brief desc/mention), knife play, wax play, dacryphilia, sadism, masochism, bdsm, corsetry, human trafficking, drug trafficking, oral fixation, thigh kink, stocking fetish, food play (and more to be named.) tw (this chapter): stabbing with knitting needles, mention of oral sex, mentions of displaying heads upon mantles, blood, gore, etc.

“MAMA, YOU LOOK like you were drowned in a river and left to dry out in the sun,” were the first words that Akamine Jun’ichi said to you when you exited the prison facility with a grace only you could have afforded. He was dressed to impress in a two piece suit, the back panels hanging a few inches lower than normal and fluttering in the slight breeze. His hair, dyed to such a blue fluorescence that it was almost too bright, had been grown long, longer than you had seen him last, and now framed his face in feathery layers with the rest tied to the top of his head in a messy knot that was almost stylish. The hair pin he’d shoved through it was just a little bit too ostentatious, but he wouldn’t be Jun’ichi if he wasn’t the least bit over extravagant. You observed him with an amused half-smile upon your lips, eyes darting down to the gold rimming the seams of his expensive dress shoes and the gold plated spikes embedded in the back heel. “Ah, or should I have said your beauty has not faded a day since you went in?”

“Oh, you know I hate dishonesty,” you tutted, reaching up and patting his cheek condescendingly. He leaned into it slightly and you smiled knowingly, withdrawing your hand before a crimson blush could make its way up his cheeks and fluster him. Where Nao was like your child, Jun’ichi was your doting husband, always quick to defend you and flourish at your side—you could always count on him to have your best interests at heart. While easily flustered by any smidgen of affection you gave him, he was quick to recover, clearing his throat and giving your mundane sweatpants and shirt a cursory once over. You sighed and lamented,”They burned my clothes when they were done using them as evidence. That was an expensive pair of Louboutins I lost; I’d rather like another pair of them.”

“As you wish.” Jun’ichi bowed slightly at the waist, almost mockingly, but you adored him for his candor. He plucked a new cell phone from his coat pocket and handed it to you with a flourish. When you raised a fairly bushy and unplucked eyebrow, he said, carefully,“Your last phone was… a bit outdated, [Name]-sama.”

You scowled at the dark screen of the Samsung. Technology had advanced while you were rotting away in a cell block, that was for certain. A quick press of a short button on the side sent you to a home screen; from there it was easy enough to figure it out, though you didn’t like change. You much preferred your flip phones and old burners compared to the pricey piece of technology in your hand; it was fragile and felt like it could break easily. You examined the lavender casing on the back and the three cameras in the top left corner, eyes narrowing in displeasure.

“Fine.” Tucking it away into the waistband of your pants, as there were no pockets to be had, you fixed him with an irritated stare. “But we need to make several stops before I’ll feel like myself again. You haven’t emptied the coffers while I was away, have you?”

Jun’ichi laughed lightly. “No, I merely filled them. You may take a look at your account on your phone if you like.”

When you glowered at him at the mention of the phone, he looked away.

“Perhaps not,” he mumbled, as an afterthought. In an effort to draw your attention away from the shiny new toy he had bought you, he said,”So, to the salon? Your hair looks very unhealthy.”

“No, the seamstress.” You reached up and plucked the collar of your cotton and polyester t-shirt with a grimace. It was cheaply made and something you wouldn’t have been caught dead in if you had a choice; you much preferred silks and pure cotton and the comfort of a nicely pressed pantsuit or jumpsuit. “Mixed fabrics make me itch.”

“Of course.” He gestured for a car idling at the curb of the police station. You watched the sleek black Lincoln pull out and begin to drive towards you, your eyes flicking over the shiny new finish and the dealership plates still screwed into the front plate. The driver was unrecognizable to you, with his hair buzzed short and a plain black suit to match his unassuming appearance. He wore sunglasses as well and you attempted to peer past them, but found it worthless to do so. You trusted Jun’ichi to vet the staff properly, and if he didn’t, you would have his head—whether it was between your legs or on your mantle was his decision to make. He was lovely at apologies, but you weren’t in the mood to deal with another betrayal—Nao’s already stung quite considerably and your temper would flare if you had another. You hoped his teeth were sitting on your desk, waiting for you to admire them: the gold caps had been quite nice and you were debating having the diamonds embedded in a dog collar so you could leash it around his throat and walk him around in public and within your manor just to humiliate him a little more. He hadn’t cried when you had pulled out his teeth, but maybe he would at the thought of public humiliation. He always was sensitive to his image.

Your parents would be so disappointed that you forewent the traditional Yakuza punishments. It was a pity they were too dead to see the empire you had built from their ashes.

“Did Nao return to the manor?” You inquired as Jun’ichi opened the door for you politely. He hummed in an indication for you to elaborate, hand pausing on the door and the other held aloft to help you into the cabin. “Did he put his teeth on my desk like I asked him to?”

“Ah.” Your advisor grimaced, as if imagining the pain his subordinate had gone through himself. He was always the sympathetic one, even if you forbid him from doing anything to help the people you punished. “Yes, he did. By the cup of red pens, I believe.”

With a curt nod of satisfaction, you stepped into the cabin and allowed the door to shut behind you. It was a luxurious car, of that you were certain, the leather soft and buttery and surprisingly real. Faux leather was disappointingly common in most cars you had purchased, even from luxury dealers like Mercedes and Lamborghini. You ran a finger down the seam of stitching on a corner, watching the flesh of your thumb catch on them as you went. You ignored the bustling city in favor of examining the car, uninterested in the changes that had occurred in the time you had been incarcerated. You were eager to return to your throne and get back to work; after all, no one ran the underworld quite as well as you did. You trusted Jun’Ichi to keep things stable, but he was soft and malleable, a trait you should have beaten out of him years ago; but you had needed that softness during that time in your life, and while it wasn’t a regret, it was a mistake you acknowledged with your heart.

You pulled your new phone out of your waistband with a tired sigh. You felt you could do with a few hours of sleep in a proper bed with satin sheets and a weighted duvet, but there was work to be done that couldn’t wait a second longer. Ten years was too long to be out of the game. You had meddled in affairs, of course, but you had never been able to get to the full extent of your former power while you were trapped in that prison. Now that you were free, there would be several people who would pay dearly for what they had done to you—but first, you had to lay low. Your release had been a secret thanks to hush money paid to several media outlets and cops, of which you had no doubt paid a small fortune for. You didn’t want rats scattering back into their hidey holes and popping back out to be menaces when you least expected it.

Before you could explore the features of your sparkling new touch screen phone, a call came through. The contact icon was blank and only displayed a gradient of color, but you recognized the number typed into the contact name well enough.

“Swipe right to answer it,” Jun’ichi offered helpfully.

You frowned and did as he said, holding the phone up to your ear and hoping you didn’t accidentally press something wrong. You were rewarded with an excited yell on the other line.

“Lǎo bǎn niáng!” You pressed your lips together at the term but did nothing to correct it. “You’re out of prison! I was wondering when you would finally get out; I’ve missed you over the years.”

You could practically hear the pout in Huang Jinhai’s voice when he spoke. The man was over fifty years old, yet he still acted as if he was a sulky teenager, which wasn’t much of a change since the last time you had spoken to him. The prison didn’t allow you to collect calls from China, citing you were a ‘risk’, so you never spoke to him as often as you got to with your own syndicate, which wasn’t often at all. “Shū fù, you know as well as I do that they would never allow me to call you. It is nice to hear your voice, though.”

Jun’ichi caught your eye in the rearview mirror. You scowled at him and jerked your head to indicate he should look forward and away from you.

“Ah, I can hear the lie in your voice even over the phone.” You repressed a sigh at the sniffle you heard over the line, turning your head and knocking it against the window. “But that’s an issue for another day. I had a gift sent to your manor house when your lieutenant told me you would be released—I think you’ll love it when you see it.”

A flash of color caught your eye. You turned to look out the window, holding the phone slightly askew from your face. “You know I don’t like surprises.”

“But you’ll like this one, I think.” He laughed. “Knowing how you are, you’re eager to get back to work, so I’ll let you go.”

You hung up before he could take you on another tangent. While you loved your uncle, he could be a bit much, even for you at times. The fact that he had somehow gotten a ‘surprise’ into your manor was interesting, however; his last surprise had been a very crude rendition of a Jackson Pollock painting, however it had been all over your bedroom and in blood and various entrails you weren’t keen on identifying at the time. He was never one to do things in halves, your uncle, so whatever surprise he had gotten you was doubtless something to be wary of.

By the time you had thought through all of the possible things he could have done to your home, you had arrived at the seamstress’ home. It was a small thing nestled between family owned bars and shops catered to foreigners, and in a shady enough area as well. There were thugs crawling around every corner, some from syndicates you knew and some that you did not—several hosted fairly visible tattoos of panthers on their arms, exposed by short sleeved shirts and wife beaters that looked to have seen better days. While they weren’t clean, per se, they appeared well taken care of and the stains on their shirts were old blood or sake stains. Their shoes denoted a fairly well off syndicate as well, cleaner and fancier than their clothes; their jewelry as well, the same panther motif hanging from gold or silver chains or even studs in their ears.

“I see you’ve let interlopers into our midst,” you noted quietly. Your fingers began tapping a rhythm on the window button, counting each panther you saw on the street. You could see Jun’ichi stiffen in the front seat, leather creaking under the sudden shift in weight. The driver paid no mind to it and waited for you to either step out of the car or deal with Jun’ichi while he still sat in the front seat, in the perfect position for you to rip the drawstring from your pants and slide it around his throat and choke him with it. Sliding your fingers off of the button and to your phone, you idly checked the time and glanced at the driver, still silent. “Your failure will not go unpunished. For now, I think, I don’t want to keep the seamstress waiting.”

You leaned forward and snatched the sunglasses off of the driver’s face. You saw his eyelashes flutter in surprise as you were setting them upon your own nose, hooking them behind your ears. When you were satisfied with how you appeared, you stepped out of the car. You didn’t wait for Jun’ichi to follow you; you didn’t trust yourself not to force him to his knees and beat him with his own belt buckle for his indiscretion. There were too many panthers roaming the streets for your taste; they likely reported to someone within the area and your low profile would be blown far too soon.

The inside of the seamstress’ home was quaint and humble. Littered with silks and numerous fabrics, it was a mess of chaotic order, and there were several needles within grabbing distance with enough length to puncture through someone’s eye and into their skull. You picked one up as Jun’ichi squeezed through the door behind you, pressing the sharp tip to your finger and watching a bead of blood well up from the slightest pressure. Other than Jun’ichi’s breathing and your contemplative hum, the house was quiet besides the settling of the wooden support beams and rustling of fabric from somewhere deeper within.

“So the Monster of Tokyo returns,” a wizened, cracked voice sussured. Nestled in the darkest of corners and between large bolts of fabric, Fushimi Chinatsu looked up from her complex knitting pattern with a smile and the corners of her eyes crinkling. Her needles snapped together with a metallic clack, the yarn discarded into a small basket hidden near her feet. She stood slowly, the sound of her bones protesting the only other audible noise in the room, her spine bowed and her neck hunched. She wore a humble outfit of a skirt and a modern graphic t-shirt that was slightly too-large to accommodate the scoliosis in her spine, looking entirely out of place among the yards of silk and lace. Other than her dark, beady eyes and silver hair, Chinatsu was every bit the grizzled ex-Oyabun that you recalled her being. As she drew closer into the light of the windows facing the road, a tattoo of a spiraling dragon and white koi came into view, once hidden by the shadows. “I wondered when you would finally one-up those dicks playing law and order.”

“Fushimi-sama,” you greeted her cordially, the smallest of smiles on your face. “It’s good to see you.”

She laughed, an inhuman cackle that had the hairs on your arms and neck standing on end. “And it’s good to see I can still tell when you’re lying. Don’t worry, [Name]-chan, your secret is safe with me—I have a few more years in me before I hit the grave.”

“I’m surprised you’re still alive.” Slowly, you put the large needle back where it had been laying. Chinatsu watched your movements like a hawk, dark gaze following your hand as it moved away from the needles to pluck at samples of fabric lying beside it. “I would have thought you’d be dead by the time I got out.”

“By natural causes or by my brother-in-law?” She remarked snidely. When you gave her a loose shrug and a quick raise of your eyebrows, she snorted. “Either is likely at this point. But I don’t think you’re here to discuss my death, Akamine-sama, unless I’ve done something to slight you in the past?”

“No, you’re right.” You examined a sample embroidered with cranes and white lotuses; for a kimono, most likely, with the quality of the fabric. “I’m here for new suits. In the same style as usual, of course, and with payment in full.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Chinatsu was deceptively calm as she lifted a spool of crimson red thread and an equally as livid vermillion silk to compare, holding them up for your inspection. You didn’t miss the slight tremble of her hands as she did so. “I believe a red suit would be in style, no?”

“That would be perfect.” You picked the needle back up and twirled it across your knuckles and between your fingers. “But first, I need to take care of some business. You’ll understand, won’t you?”

You reached back and yanked Jun’ichi forward by his tie. Not expecting the sudden show of force, he fell to his knees, the wood groaning under his weight and the sudden movement. You barely detected the splintering of a singular board beneath his knee. His eyes went wide as you grasped his hands and placed them together in a mockery of prayer.

“Akamine-sama…” Chinatsu tutted. “Prison seems not to have blunted your blade.”

The needle punctured through Jun’ichi’s palms with one quick, precise thrust. There was a momentary pop as it broke through a joint and ligament in his palm. He didn’t scream—your men never screamed—but he did let out a strangled breath at the needle jutting out of his hands, pinning his palms together in front of his face. You had avoided anything purposefully crippling, but blood streamed down his wrists and disappeared into his suit sleeves regardless.

After a moment of consideration, you patted his cheek mockingly and turned your back on him. Then, you turned and pointed to the steadily growing puddle of blood between his knees and underneath his hands, giving Chinatsu an inquiring look.

“Can I get that shade of red?”

i. i wish i could say i'm sorry. | masterlist. | iii. speak my name, tremble with fear.

taglist (open):

[hallowedmuses]

𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑡: 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟

SUMMARY: Our ragtag team of heroes including Natasha Romanoff, Daniel Sousa, Clint Barton, Loki Laufeyson, Veronica Stevens, and Deke come together to rescue Director Daisy Johnson from the clutches of Lucia von Bardas. TRIGGERS: Torture, Violence, PTSD, Trauma WRITTEN WITH: @ofbartons, @oflokismischief, @ofdcniels, @daisyljohnson, @ronniestvns, @oflemcns

CLINT: when loki woke him up for the rescue mission, clint wasted no time. he threw on the first shirt he could find, which luckily was clean, and his shoes before literally tumbling out the door with his bow in hand. his fuzzy pizza-sliced patterned pajama pants wasn't the most tactical choice, but then again neither was his bright purple t-shirt and converse. once they'd arrived at the hellicarrier, clint took out the guards on a section of the deck before firing a bomb arrow at the wall to create a point of entry for 'tasha and the dude in the blue shirt. "i will admit, being subtle might have been the smarter play here." he chuckled over the comms while firing a trio of arrows. the explosion had two purposes in his head- one, the point of entry, and two, draw attention away from daisy's rescue duo. the second purpose was just working a little better than he'd thought it would. he slid across the deck, firing off a couple more arrows before standing up and kicking one of the guards in the chest. using the controls on the handle of his bow, he switched to a smoke arrow before aiming at a group of the guards "hey lo, i'm really glad you have the cape still." keeping the arrow drawn back, clint turned his head to look at his boyfriend "otherwise i'd be too distracted by that ass of yours." he winked and let the arrow loose, still looking in loki's direction "not to mention all these schmucks would be staring at it." he switched back to regular arrows before firing into the smoke.

LOKI: Loki should've known Clint would be far from ready when it was time to lead the mission, it had been quite awhile since he'd gone into battle but then again he did quite love the hunt when it came down too it. His mission was simply and if anything he could easily take out anything humans could throw at him. "Possibly but then again we have quite the army of people who have been missing out dear Director and I'd burn the place down if she wasn't in there." He mused throwing iced daggers at all who dared come near. For those who got to close they were met with his quick stabs and his illusions. when he heard his boyfriend speak chuckling softly "Its all about fashion darling, Those little SHIELD outfits do nothing for my figure" He mused back looking at Clint he always found his Archery skills rather attractive before he rolled his eyes "as for my ass I'm sure I can other wise to distract you, maybe flirt with a villain or two and see how much of your spy skills come out to play, after all Green is quite your color my hawk"

NATASHA: "Subtilty was never your strong suit, but I do appreciate the flare. The pajamas make it easier to find you too," she laughed as Clint shot a few explosive arrows to give herself and Daniel an entry point into the helicarrier. As Clint, Loki, and Ronnie guided Lucia's guards away from the entry point, Natasha and Daniel made their way in. Natasha fired off a few taser disks, hitting the oncoming guards squarely in the chest. She watched them fall to the floor, convulsing as electric shocks ran through their body. As the guards fought to peel the taser disks off of themselves, Natasha made her way through the hallway. She ducked as a few rounds of bullets came flying at her and Daniel. She grabbed him and pulled him toward the wall for cover. Natasha used the wall to shield herself as she fired at the oncoming guards. "Ronnie, have you located the room where Daisy's being held captive?" They could aimlessly fire rounds all day, but they needed to know what direction to go. She made a face as she heard bits and pieces of Clint and Loki's conversation over coms. "Honestly," she frowned and looked over at Daniel. "I can't even be mad. I did this to myself inviting those two along."

RONNIE: “Yea... I’m working.. on it.” Veronica breathlessly remarked over the coms. A few grunts could be heard as she flipped the guard she’d been tangled up with and stabbed him with one of poison daggers.  “Now where were we.. a yess.. here we go.” Ronnie grabbed her data pad, ducking down behind a bolder as she took control of the building. “I’m in, I’ve got eyes on Daisy.. She’s alive..” Ronnie neglected to add how bad she looked from the live feed she was getting on their shitty surveillance system. “She’s on the fourth floor, third door to the right. Give me thirty seconds, I’m disabling the alarms and lock mechanisms now. I’m about to fry the fuck out of their systems and equipment. Can’t promise I won’t blow the lights.. hope you brought flares.” Ronnie playfully teased, falling forward as a couple of guards began to fire at her out of no where. “Hey lover boys! As uncute as it is listening to you flirt endlessly while taking out guards, I could use some help over here! Cover me while I shut down their main line.” She made a mental note to switch them over to their own channel when she was finished here.

DANIEL: while this wasn't the strangest mission he'd ever been on, that title probably had to go to the whitney frost case, this had to be the most chaotic and strange team daniel had been apart of. you had not one but two super spies (one of which was in pajamas and using a bow and arrow of all things), a tech genius, a god (or were they an alien? daniel was a little fuzzy on that particular detail), and deke... at least most of them seemed to know what they were doing. daniel ducked down when agent romanoff pulled him out of the line of fire "thanks." he waited for the shooting to stop, meaning the men were reloading, and once they did he leaned out at shot the men. keeping low he moved towards the door to the stairwell one he heard daisy's location. daniel couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him at the couple's banter "compared to the things i've heard howard utter, this is nothing."

DEKE: In the past, when Deke had thought about his 'next cool mission' this had hardly been the thing in his mind. Not Arrow-Guy in his pajamas, not working with someone who practically a God, Black Widow herself or well, any of them. Certainly not Daisy being in danger like this... But still, he was nothing if not adaptable. So adapt he did. Rescue Daisy now, rankle his mind about all these events later. There was something pretty calming about the group of them being so casual and prepared (though he still felt a spike of fear at every loud noise, the many of them). He was working with the best, Deke reminded himself. He'd gotten the Hyperbaric Chamber ready to go for Daisy upon their return, nervously awaiting. In one of his more anxious moments  he'd thought about preparing food for Daisy before remembering he wouldn't know how long she'd be in there for. So, with the chamber up and waiting, Deke listened on the comms and waited. "How's it looking? It sounds pretty crowded." Crowded, being the word for all the many enemies they seemed to be facing (and taking down). "You guys doing okay?" He was fairly sure they were but it didn't hurt to ask.

DAISY: Daisy had been living in a fantasy world, but it could only last so long before she eventually had to wake up. Wake up was a relative term. It didn't mean she was entirely awake and aware, more so that she had to wake to the reality of her situation, that there were no happy endings, that she couldn't get what she wanted, that actions had consequences, and even when you thought you won, it could come back to bite you in the ass. In the time that it had taken everyone to track down her kidnappers, Daisy had been put through several different forms of torture. Lucia had even been so kind as to grace her with her presence, reminding Daisy of what she'd done to the woman and how everything she was going through now was her own fault. Daisy could give her that much. Daisy had done her fair share of awful things, even if she hadn't been entirely in control of her own actions at the time. Nick Fury Sr. had made sure of that. It seemed that even after she'd taken things over from him, he still managed to screw up her life, but in the end she wasn't really surprised by any of this.

Currently, she didn't know where Lucia was, and she was just surrounded by guards who had all made sure not to listen to a word she said. Still, that didn't mean she wouldn't try. Her ears were ringing, but she could still feel some kind of activity on the ship. She spat out blood. "Sounds like . . . you've got company," she taunted, her voice raspy and barely carrying out to them. Her breathing was shaky and uneven. "You might . . . wanna go deal with that." They ignored her, saying nothing.

CLINT: clint had been in a lot of sticky situations before, but this wasn't one of them... if anything he was like a greased up hog running from the farmers trying to catch him, which might be a little dangerous for him. bad things tended to happen to him when he got too confident, but at least both loki and 'tasha were here to keep him from dying. he was about to fire off an arrow when a guard came up on his left, so he turned and stabbed the arrow into the guy's eye "oooh... i hope your insurance includes vision." clint quipped as he fired another set of arrows into the group. "aww, don't be like that lady. you know that my husband and i are cute as fuck." he winked at her as he ran by, headed towards loki... not because he needed the back up but purely because clint wanted to get another look at loki. his look was different from the last time clint had seen him in his battle gear and the blonde had to admit it was a damn fine look. "hey handsome! you come here often?"

LOKI: Loki had enjoyed the thrill of field work, it had been such a long time since he'd been able to use his daggers and magic against an actual threat. The best part was having Clint fight side by side him, before they'd been on opposite sides of a war, never sharing more the small glances. He fought with a passion ensuring they would clear a spot to bring Daisy home, there was no way he was leaving without her even if it cost every single on of these humans lives. "Did you really just say that Clint?" He questioned chuckling softy as he quickly disarmed three more guys pinning them down with a couple of his daggers. "We actually are, plus you are the driving force that brought us together in life and on this mission. The blame is fully on your shoulders Nat darling." He teased the other as he noticed his lover coming towards him. He could easily see that glint in his eye whenever Clint saw Loki in his more regal clothes, though now he'd donned on his Asgardian wear leaving that as his go too field work outfit. He turned to reply to Clint before throwing a dagger right into the bad guy who'd tried to take Clint by surprise. "Depends on who's asking, and if they are going to buy me dinner first," He mused winking at Clint.

NATASHA: Natasha had learned long ago to tune out the chatter of the coms. She kept her volume low so she could focus on their current situation. If shit hit the fan outside, she trusted her team to be able to handle it. "Ah, Howard Stark. If working with him is anything like working with his son, I'd pass on the opportunity," she joked. Tony wasn't so bad...in small dosages anyway. The lights on their side of the helicarrier flickered before going out completely. In the next moment, Natasha and Daniel were bathed in an eerie red light. Ronnie must've knocked out the security system. Only the emergency lights were operational now. "Fourth floor, third door," Natasha nodded as they slipped into the stairwell. She heard heavy boots above them. Reinforcements were coming through. "Five pairs of boots," she whispered to Daniel as she ducked behind one of the spirals. As the sound of boots came closer, Natasha shot a taser disk at the first guard. He convulsed and fell forward, tumbling down the stairs. He was wearing the same mask Natasha saw in her memories. The widow jumped out from behind one of the spirals and landed a kick square in the chest of one of the guards. He fell forward and took a third guard down with him. Three out of five. Not bad. She turned to take down the other two, but it appeared Blue Shirt was already disengaging them. She would have to share the body cam footage from her stealth suit with Daisy later. That was sure to lift her spirits.

RONNIE: “Nice one Nat.” Ronnie mused as she watched Nat take out three guards at once, followed by Daniel knocking out a couple more. “You kids make a good team. Daisy’s gonna be so proud.” She snickered into her earpiece. She’d muted Loki and Clint’s come but kept an eyes on everyone’s body cams in case the lover boys got into trouble. She loved them dearly, but their banter was brining her lunch back up.  “They’ve got her surrounded.. ten.. maybe fifteen guys.. the footage is shit.. but I’m trying.. ” Ronnie relayed, watching the room she was being held in like a hawk. “She’s saying something to them but no ones budging... hold on..” a few clips to enhance the audio and suddenly Ronnie was sporting a shit eating grin. “I knows we’re here. Hang on, Director.. we’re coming for you.”  

DANIEL: hearing that they had eyes on daisy made him feel a little better but he wouldn't feel settled until she was out of here completely. after kicking the fifth guard in the chest, with his bionic leg for good measure, he turned towards natasha to see if she needed help "ten to fifteen? i think we can handle that." daniel smirked before reloading his guns "so how do you want to do this?" he peeked around the corner seeing that there were no guards outside the room but daniel knew all hell would break loose once they went in.

DEKE: He listened intently to the communications, hoping to hear word of Daisy's safety and prepare the Hyperbaric Chamber for her. Well, it was mostly prepared. It'd really be him opening the thing, then everything was smooth sailing. That is, if her injuries could be healed by it... Which they should. Unless she literally lost a limb or died she should be fine. She would be fine. He heard the ruckus over the comms and felt his heart swell with fear. "Any eyes on Daisy yet?" He asked desperately. Then he heard it. They found Daisy. "Is she okay?!" He asked over the coms, without much hope of getting an answer. They had other things keeping them busy, after all. So he continued waiting anxiously.

DAISY: As the fighting outside continued, the guards around Daisy got more anxious. They could hear on their comms that they weren't exactly winning this fight. "Let's just get rid of the dead weight," said one of the guards. "I doubt Lucia wants this one alive anyways."

"Did you hear her say that or are you just assuming shit again?" asked the other guard. "You know what she'll do if we go against her orders."

"Screw her orders. That's the fucking Avengers out there. If Lucia wants her alive, we can just blame her death on the Avengers, say they didn't give us any choice. Hell, we can say she attacked us." He pulled the tubes that had been connected to Daisy out, but there were still drugs in her system. She couldn't do much. She could barely move. He pulled her up by her hair, shoving a gun against her skull. "You're going to get them to stand down, or you're going to die.

"Guess. . ." Daisy choked on her words. It was hard to focus on her words, when she was focused on something else. "Guess I'll die then." Her shoulders moved up slightly in a shrug. She wasn't actually expecting to die now. She imagined Natasha was probably leading this charge, and these guards didn't stand a chance against her. If Daisy could just move her fingers a little more, she could help Natasha too. There. A small tremor shot out from her fingertips, and the door to the room slammed open. The guard still had a gun to Daisy's head, but Natasha would be here in 5...4...3...2...1... //

NATASHA: "Thanks, Ronnie," she replied when Ronnie relayed the message about what was waiting for them up ahead. "I dunno, Danny Boy," she smirked up at him. "I seem to be carrying all the weight here," she elbowed him gently. "Pick up the slack or I'm gonna leave you behind and save your girl myself. Maybe I'll steal the kiss right from under you too." Natasha glanced down at her utility belt to see what supplies she still had left. "I still have a few taser disks left. That should be enough to shock the oncoming guards. The rest we can take down the good old fashion way." And with that she heard the door to the room where Daisy was being held slam open. "Good girl," Nat grinned. Daisy was a fighter till the end. "Come on, Daniel. Let's work for a living." Natasha sprinted into the room full force. It didn't take long to make an assessment of the danger. She threw the first taser disk at the man who'd had a gun to Daisy's head. He dropped the weapon and began to convulse on the floor. Natasha threw the remaining disks that she had at the next few guards that tried to come at her. She used the momentum of their falling bodies to take down a couple more men. She was really hoping this would be the last of them.

DANIEL: the male let out a quiet huff at the update from ronnie "quack right?" he raised a brow before rolling his shoulders "to be fair, you are enhanced." daniel joked. he looked calm on the outside but internally he was worried about his girl... if that's still what she was. plenty of time had passed for her and daisy was probably given many opportunities to move on from some square she only knew for a short time... he wouldn't blame her in the slightest. nodding he followed after natasha, downing guards with his guns before exchanging blows with a couple. he dropped to the ground and knocked the legs out from under one before moving towards daisy his heart nearly breaking at the state she was in.

his hands were shaking slightly as he knelt down by her “hey... what did i tell you huh? i thought you were supposed to take care of yourself.” he was so relieved to see her again, although this wasn’t the reunion he had been hoping for after he had to stay behind to make sure that the team was able to escape back to their timeline with the chronicoms in tow. he worked as quickly as he could, removing any leftover wires and nodes from her body, while talking to her about... well, anything really. if anyone asked him later what he’d said, danny boy wouldn’t be able to tell you. his focus was getting daisy out of there and making sure she was safe. after he pulled the helmet off her head, he started brushing the hair out of her face “keep fighting okay? you stay awake for me daisy and i’m gonna get you home.” memories flashed in his mind of their time in the barn with malick, his heart breaking at the fact people kept hurting the amazing woman in front of him. he’d kick himself later for not trying to find a way back to her sooner, could he have prevented this from happening if he had? or perhaps he’d have been taken too, used against her in some way... he’d never really know, but daniel had to focus now. get her home, get her safe, make sure she’s okay three easy goals he could focus on. as gently as he could, daniel gathered daisy up in his arms and lifted her from the ground. “i got you sweetheart, it’s okay.”

DAISY: As the man who had been holding Daisy fell after being tased by Natasha, Daisy crumpled too, her body unable to hold herself up after constant torture. She was glad to have been right about Natasha coming in, but after her head hit the floor, her awareness of what was around her was fading again. She vaguely heard the sound of fighting, and then there was a familiar voice that she hadn't heard in a long time. Her eyes, covered in her own blood, wouldn't open anymore, but she recognized Daniel. She must've been slipping. It was a result of being so close to death. An auditory hallucination. It wasn't real. "Daniel?" she whispered, allowing herself to ask even when she knew this wasn't real.  

NATASHA: Natasha was tired as she took out the last of the guards. Parts of her tactical suit were torn and her lip was bloody from where one of them managed to hit her, but she was thankfully in one piece. She pushed her coms button to give the team a status update. "We have Daisy," she informed them. "We're en route out through the north bay entrance. Take the carrier, find Lucia," her voice took on a darker tone. "I have some questions for her myself." Lucia von Bardas was the one that ordered this torture. Natasha was about to return the favor. She turned to see Daniel pick up Daisy. The woman was barely conscious at this point. Natasha approached them and gave Daisy a reckless smile before quacking obnoxiously. "I didn't give you permission to die. This is so unprofessional. I'm sure you'll make it up to me though."

Her coms buzzed. "Romanoff, we're in."

"Welcome to the party, boys," she grinned. Moments later she heard boots on the ground and the sound of rooms being checked and cleared. It was the back up unit that she'd called. "Come on, let's get her to the Hyperbaric Chamber."

DANIEL: "yeah sweetheart, it's me." he spoke softly as he adjusted his hold to keep a feel of her pulse like he had when he pulled her out of that barn all those years ago. watching the small interaction between natasha and daisy made him smile, seeing her have family like this made him so happy... it was everything she deserved. seeing the agents filing in daniel started moving out of the room, daisy didn't look too good and she needed to get back to hq to start recovering. he turned and looked over his shoulder, smirking slightly "you coming romanoff? thought you said you were gonna steal the kiss from me?"

DAISY: She still heard his voice speaking to her, and she felt like it was just a sign that she was going to slip away again soon. The sound of Natasha's voice was something she knew to be real. She could focus on it, though that was getting harder to do. She heard Lucia's name, and the hellicarrier started shaking violently. It wasn't intentional on Daisy's part. She was hardly in control of her body right now, but as Natasha came over to her and started quacking at her, Daisy calmed enough for the shaking to stop. She tried to return the greeting, but it only came out as choked gurgling. Apparently, blood in your throat didn't allow for very articulated speech, even in the instance of duck calls. She managed at least a small smile as Natasha criticized her for not getting permission to die. "n't dead yet," she wheezed out.

She felt herself being lifted up and moved through the halls. Her eyes weren't open, but she could hear and feel just well enough to know she was being moved quickly. Daniel's voice spoke again, and she had to remind herself again that this wasn't real. It was easier to believe that it was a hallucination from what he said. Even if it was her Daniel, she was sure Natasha would kick his ass for implying she was falling behind. Daisy hadn't been able to see much before, but she'd heard the fighting. Plus, she knew Natasha well enough too to know that she must've done almost all of the fighting here. From the sound of Natasha's orders, she was leading this thing. Whoever suggested she of all people was falling behind was going to regret the words coming out of their mouth. Daisy almost felt sorry for whoever it was, but at least it wasn't actually Daniel.

Whoever was carrying her, certainly not Daniel, got her off of the hellicarrier fairly quickly, or maybe Daisy was just losing her concept of time passing. She heard S.H.I.E.L.D. agents directing the person carrying her back to the zephyr, telling them to get her to the hyperbaric chamber as quickly as possible because she didn't look good. She fell back into unconsciousness before she found out if she made it into that chamber or not. Maybe she was dead. She hoped not. Natasha hadn't given her permission to die yet. How would she make it up to her?

DEKE: Deke was nervous. Not his usual 'state of being' kind of nervous but the more dastardly 'holy shit is my friend alive' kind of nervous. Also the 'she got tortured and it's my fault' kind of guilt laid in pretty thick too. But... he couldn't let that take away his focus right now. He needed to be an agent. Turn off the nerves and the guilt, he was a pro at it in the past he could for sure do it now. He would, if nothing else than for Daisy's sake. The moment Daisy was in, all hurt and bruised and broken but still Daisy, still strong. Well, Deke did what he did best. Move. As soon as it was possible with Daisy situated and safety in there the machination turned on and began it's process.

That was his part. Small. In the end, it was Daisy who would have the toughest job. And that was surviving. Deke inhaled deeply, wishing he could do more and knowing he could not. He ran a hand through his hair. "She'll be okay." He spoke, not even knowing if the words were for himself or the others. "She will..."

NATASHA: She rolled her eyes at Sousa's joke. "My pacing's fine. Yours though..." she frowned. She'd carried most of the operation from the investigation to the rescue mission itself so she wasn't even mildly amused. "We'll have to work on that if you wanna keep up with me and Daisy," she winked. She'd already stolen a kiss from Daisy...more than that actually. But she wasn't gonna tell the old man that. Bless his heart. Now that her team had moved in on the helicarrier, getting to the zephyr wasn't all to hard. Natasha's shoulders eased once Daisy was in the chamber. She would be okay.

"Romanoff, we have Lucia," one of her agents reported through the coms.

"I'm on my way." Natasha looked up at Deke, Daniel, and the others. "They have Lucia and I have questions." She also had a penchant for violence. And based on the way Daisy looked right now, Natasha had no plans to go easy on Lucia. "I think you guys can manage from here. Get Daisy home safe or the next body I bury will be yours," she informed the team. It was very clear she had the means to carry out on that threat. With that, Natasha left Daisy's side and made her way back to the helicarrier to interrogate Lucia. / END

[sweetchup]

Of Blood and Bruises

Anon asks: You’re writing is super underrated may I request Feitan x artist who draws dark themes please make it a lemon if you’re feeling scandalous :)

Anon asks: I’m in love with your writing! Could you do another NSFW scenario with Fei when he loses control? Thank you!!

Type: Feitan x reader

Au?: None

Word count: 3,000+

Warnings: Angst, Blood/gore, Mature Content, Lime, NSFW, Abuse, Psychotic/Sociopath reader, slight yandere?

Author Note: I decided to combine two asks into one scenario because they fit really well together. I hope you two like it and thanks for all the compliments. I get really happy when I read them!! ❤️❤️

“Though Little Spider, I truly believe that there is a Nen Curse on the Bloody Jewel of the East. It’s the only plausible answer.”

You look away from your sketchbook to look down at Chrollo who had laid his head on your lap, his eyes closed as he talks. What were you going to do with this man?

“Chrollo I’m pretty sure the reason it’s called the Bloody Jewel is because it’s a big red jewel found after 100 men in the mines got crushed to death by an explosion Accident. I don’t think a dynamite getting set off counts as any sort of Nen curse.” You say, causing the man on your lap to snort. You shake your head and go back to sketching. You had really taken inspiration from the recent Budo Knives that you guys had stolen, and you were trying to capture the essence of the destructiveness they caused to the human body when used. The blood splatter, the guts and the gore, always amazed you like it was some sort of wonderful form of art. So you sketch it, framing your memories and love for death into time itself.

“I’m starting to think you should take up my spot as leader. What do you say, (y/n)?”

“Yeah, and let you be the heart? No way Boss, sorry.” You hear Chrollo and some of the other members chuckle. Looking away from Chrollo you look at the members who had laughed. “I’m serious. Come on. Imagine if the boss had my job. We be all dead before we could say ‘Spider Shish Kabob’”

This causes all of the members to break out into a fit of laughter, even causing you to crack and laugh. As you all begin to calm down, wiping the tears from your eyes, you notice something. We’re missing someone.

“Hey. Where’s Feitan?” No one responds but you feel the room get tense. You had just now realized you haven’t seen the sadistic short man all day. You should probably go check up on him.

Pulling Chrollo lightly off your lap, you jump down onto the bottom floor of the cobblestone abandoned church you guys were hiding out in. If you remember correctly, Feitan took the 3rd room on the left side halfway. You go to walk down there but a giant hand grabs onto you. Blinking, you turn to look at Franklin who had stopped you.

“I wouldn’t suggest that, (y/n). Let’s just leave Feitan alone.” Franklin says, using his other hand to pat your head, “How about you just join Shalnark, Uvo, Phinks and I in a game of cards?”

“But, why…Why can’t I check up on Feitan? Is he torturing someone again? You know I don’t get bothered by that stuff.”

Franklin goes to rebut but Uvo lets out a laugh and cuts him off. “Don’t try Franklin. It’s pointless when (y/n) wants to go do her job.”

Uvogin takes a sip of his beer before looking serious at you. “I wouldn’t suggest it though, squirt. Shalnark and Phinks decided to really just annoy the shit out of Feitan today. So he’s not… in the best state of mind right now, kiddo.”

You sigh and glare at Shalnark and Phinks who freeze up under your gaze. “You two hadn’t learned your lesson from last time didn’t you. Well, that doesn’t change things because I’m still going to check up on him.”

“(Y/n)—“

“Franklin. It’s my job. You guys are the legs, Chrollo is the head and I’m the heart. It’s my job to make sure everything is running smoothly within the Troope and during missions. I can’t have any bad blood going on with the members before we go out on a mission.”

Franklin and you stare each other down for a couple of minutes before the larger man removes his hand. He lets out a sigh clearly not happy with letting you go. “Fine. But, you better call us if anything happens. I don’t trust Feitan right now.”

You giggle and hit Franklin on the arm. “Of course but I doubt anything will happen.”

Franklin stares as he watches you walk away. He just can’t understand why you do your job. After all you just—

“Franklin! Come on we are about to start.” Franklin sighs at Shalnark’s call and just decides to leave the thought alone for now.

————🕸—☠️—🕸————

“What? Is that all you can do short ass—“ The man chokes out another scream as Feitan peels off another fingernail. Feitan was not amused by the man and honestly, he wasn’t calming down, he was just getting more pissed off. This man had a sharp tongue just like Shalnark and Phinks. Maybe he should cut theirs out next time when the boss or (y/n) isn’t looking. “Fuck.. you… you gay bi—“

Feitan had enough of the man and decided to just snap his neck, it’s easier that way and maybe with some quiet he could calm down. Feitan takes a deep breath, his fingers shaking in rage. He needs to calm down, he’s usually not like this and if he can’t he’ll snap.

“Fei?” You stick your head through the door. All you can see under the light of candles is the back of Feitan who is looking at a dead man on the table in front of him. You wait a couple of seconds but you get no response so you walk in. You come closer and closer until you're standing next to Feitan. You don’t look at the black haired man and instead, grab the hand of the dead man in front of you. “Wow. I always wondered how you could be so good at peeling fingernails. You always do it so clean and precise. You should teach me one time.”

You two then sit in silence for a while after you speak. You take a shaky breath. Feitan is usually quiet but he’s never been this silent around you before.

“Hey Fei… I don’t know what happened but—“

When you put a light hand on Feitan's shoulder, all hell breaks loose. One second, you're standing next to him and the next you're being pressed up against the wall. You go to yell out but Feitan quickly shuts you up by fiercely kissing you. Crap, you should’ve listened to Franklin. Now, you're stuck in a bad situation, like you always are.

Feitan pulls away from your mouth with a light string of saliva still connecting you two. You look into the man’s eyes and just see pure sadistic darkest enveloping them. Just from looking at it you know. You know that Feitan has completely lost himself.

“Fei—“ “Shut up.” Feitan grabs the roots of your hair and pulls it back, hard. You let a whine out at the painful feeling before letting out a small moan as Feitan moves to your neck. Feitan starts with harsh bruising kisses and sucks on your neck and shoulder. You gulp, slightly scared, as he sucks particularly hard on a spot right where your windpipe is. You hear the man chuckle at your gulp, amused by your reaction.

You definitely shouldn’t have given a reaction because now he was given harsh vampire hickeys and blood drawing bites on important parts of your neck and shoulders. Including the important carotid arteries that are needed to deliver blood to your brain and head. This definitely wasn’t good, it was very dangerous what Feitan is attempting. But, at the same time, you didn’t know what to do in this situation, you’ve been in bad situations but not like this. Technically if you allowed Feitan to do what he wanted, it could calm him down and a possible later on situation with another member could be avoided. You just weren't sure if it was the right call when he’s like this. He could honestly kill you right now without a single thought if he wanted to.

You are startled out of your raising thoughts as you hear a popping noise. Blushing, you watch helplessly as Feitan bursts open your shirt, the buttons flying off as he does so. “Feitan—“

You can’t get a word out again as your head is slammed against the wall with Feitan’s hand at your throat. You shiver as you meet Feitan’s gaze with teary eyes, slightly scared as you feel a little of his bloodlust leak out. As you are about to feel as if your heart was going to actually burst out of your chest and run away, Feitan looks away, focusing on undressing the rest of you.

You would let out a sigh of relief at that but can’t. Afterall, you felt as if you were literally being hanged.

Due to Feitan being strong, he could and was holding you off the ground, with the tips of your feet hardly scraping the cobblestone. It also didn’t help that he was ever so often squeezing a little bit more forcefully down on your neck, making the next breath you take after he unsqueezes feel like hot coal traveling down your throat. It was honestly a heart stopping feeling, it was something so scary that you have never felt before. Not even back in the hell place of Meteor City. Fuck, your mind was screaming at you to do something as you felt your sense of sight loosing itself. You were actually going to die or, at the very least, pass out from lack of oxygen.

As if you God suddenly heard your call, though according to Chrollo there isn’t one, Feitan let’s you go and you fall to your knees in a fit of coughing. It has never been so amazing to you to feel the sweet amazing life force called air flow through you.

Though that is very short lived as you feel a hand grab and tug your hair. You look towards the direction you're being pulled and blush as you come face to face with Feitan’s cock. Gulping, you look up at the man who glares down at you. He had a firm grip on your hair so you knew there was no use in running away now.

Pulling a shaky hand up you grab onto the pulsing shaft and take a couple of slow pumps. As you do so you hear Feitan hiss and grip onto your hair tighter. At least he’s very sensitive so this should hopefully go quickly. You lean your face in and give small kitten licks from the bottom of the shaft all the up to the tip. As you finally make it up to the top, you give the blushing tip a kiss as a little precum leaks out of it. You gulp as you feel the substance make contact with your tongue, it was an interesting taste that sent a shiver up your spine.

Now comes the hard part. You’ve never ever given anyone head or a blowjob before so you are going to have to somehow figure this out, and fast too unless you want Feitan to get mad. Opening your mouth you wrap your lips around Feitan’s tip, careful to make sure your teeth don’t rub against his shaft.

Clenching your eyes shut and trying to focus not on gaging, you take Feitan inch by inch into your mouth until your nose is right against his pubic hair. Your eyes and throat stings, you definitely know you can’t take Feitan in this far yet so you’ll have to use your hands for part of the blowjob. As you go to pull away you feel Feitan clutch onto your hair tighter.

You quickly look up worried at the man as you still have his full length in his mouth. Feitan smirks down at you and, as if he wants you to suffer, he starts to make short thrust into your mouth, keeping your head still as he does so.

Tears start to roll down your cheeks as your throat begins to convulse erratically around his length. Your throat absolutely burned as you continuously gagged at each thrust and you honestly felt as if you wanted to puke. You were definitely already not ready to give a blowjob after getting strangled, little less a face fuck.

You place your hands on his thighs, clawing at them, trying to get Feitan to stop or at the very least slow down. Though the pain you give him as you claw into him only makes him go faster.

“Fuck…” Feitan chuckles as he looks down at you. “Your throat is literally spazzing around me. Can’t take it, can you (y/n)?”

You look up at Feitan and looking at him through blurry eyes, you beg him to stop. Though as you go to make some sort of sound, it only causes vibration and it makes Feitan thrusts move erratically and unrhythmically.

“F-Fuck. You stupid slut, trying to make me— fuck.”

Feitan gives a last couple of messy thrusts before burying his whole length in your mouth. He lets out a groan and a couple of swears as he finally releases and his cum starts squirting out in strands, painting your throat and mouth white. All you can do is try to swallow as much as you can, trying not to choke on the thick white substance.

Feitan lets out a sigh as he finally pulls out of your mouth, allowing a few last white strands to paint your face. As he lets your head go you, exhausted, lean against the wall trying to stabilize yourself. So much hurt, from your jaw to your throat and even some of the bites on your chest. Nothing felt right.

You flinch as you feel something touch your cheek. Opening your eyes, you see Feitan with his hand now away. As you look into his eye, you can see he had finally calmed down and had snapped out of his trance.

Feitan feels as if he’s been stung as you flinch because of him. Though, he can’t blame you, he had lost control of himself and totally blacked out. He just can’t believe what he did to you. You are all bruised and bloody, and dirty with his cum streamed on your face. He clenches his fist as he feels his eyes start to burn. You are the heart, the little spider of the group. You help the troupe members even if not asked. You make sure they’ve eaten, taken showers, you bandage their wounds, and even taken care of them when they get sick. You are the one that actually cares if they make it back from a mission or not. Feitan remembers as if it was yesterday how hard you cried and mourned when the previous number 4 and 8 hadn’t come back.

“F-feitan.” You say shakily, reaching a hand up as you see a tear roll down the man’s face. As you are about to touch him, he slaps your hand away and backs up.

“Don’t comfort me. D-don’t.”

“But-t, feitan I—“

“Don’t (y/n). I don’t deserve it. You know that—“ Feitan is cut off as you grab onto him. Clutching him to you in a hug. Feitan scurries to try to pull you off, “(y/n)! Let go! Are you fucking insane?! Look at yourself, look at what I’ve done to you. You’re our little spider and I hurt you!! I’m a monst—“

Feitan is cut off yet again as he feels a sting. You, you just slapped him. You just slapped the torturer of the phantom troupe. Feitan finally looks at you again and he sees you looking serious at him. “You idiot. Don’t call yourself a monster. This is the first time you’ve ever hurt me. And you didn’t mean it, right? Then to me that means you are forgiven.”

“W-what?”

“I’m not mad at you.”

Feitan puts his head down and lets out a soft laugh. He just can’t believe what he heard. “What…what the fuck is wrong with you? How can you forgive me so easily. Are you fucking stupid or something?”

You put a finger to your chin and think. “Hmmm… I think so. Remember the time Phinks chucked me into a car by accident when he got mad.”

“I’m not fucking talking about that—“

“Feitan. Stop.”

Feitan glares at you as you massage your fingers through his hair. “You know this isn’t the first time I’ve gotten hurt. Like I said before Phinks has chucked me into a car before when he got mad. Uvogin was so close to paralyzing me once. Hell, even Machi sewed my lips closed once. It comes with the territory. Because…”

You place your forehead on Feitan’s and he sighs, not wanting to say what he knows is true. “You're the heart... It’s your job to make sure everything is running smoothly within the Troope and during missions. Even…

Feitan’s throat chokes up and he can’t make himself finish. You place a small kiss on his forehead and finish for him. “Even, if it means I get hurt. I’m the toughest muscle in the body so I can take the burden off of the legs and the head.”

Feitan is silent for a moment. He stares blankly into your eyes, just wondering why. Why do your eyes still spark when you look at him after what he had just done to you? What the others have done to you… Why do you still stay around? Just why—

“Feitan.” The man snaps out of it. He watches as you stand up to pull out your sketchbook that you had dropped when he attacked. As soon as you have it in your hand, you pat your lap as you sit down, “tell me what happened. I heard Shalnark and Phinks caused something.”

The man, unemotionally, plops his head down on your lap. It was wrong, he knew everything was wrong with the current structure of how the troupe was set up. But, he knew, it was pretty much a fact, that they couldn’t live without you and the way you just make their life so much brighter and better.

Feitan just lets out a sigh and closes his eyes. No matter how much bruises and blood you receive. No matter how much trauma you face. No matter how much you just want to quit. The heart has to pump on.

… Because without it…the Spider will die.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

The Alpha (werewolf AU)

Summary: Sent as an emissary for his pack, Shawn’s secret mission is to take out the alpha of the rival pack he’s meant to make peace with. However, meeting the alpha brings an unexpected surprise and his resolve dwindles when affections grow. Will he betray his alpha or his heart?

Warnings: bit of angst and gore

Word count: 1210

It will be fine, he whispers under his breath as he stares at the invisible border to a rival pack’s territory. He has never dared cross it before,the implication of what that would do making sure he'd dread it. Anyone would.

Beyond these invisible borders lies a powerful pack with a rising new alpha after the death of their previous leader. They weren't always as strikingly dangerous as they have become in the past year, creating issues for his pack where there should be none.

If anything, this pack had risen to their infamous reputation based on their willingness to create issues for his pack. That didn't sit quite well with his own alpha who went on a rampage every few days as result.

Being a beta wasn't something he wanted in his future, but Shawn had to think about his own safety as well as the safety of his family. He might not entirely agree on the way his pack functions but they are family and he'd kill to protect them, no questions asked.

Perhaps that's why he was chosen.

The honor of being a spy had been bestowed upon him with his new beta tittle and so he found himself a step away from beginning his journey, as perilous as it may be.

Drawing a deep breath, enjoying the pine scent invading his senses, Shawn smiles softly, drawing courage from nature surrounding him.

"Planning to take that step or are you just window shopping?" A voice makes him perk up, looking around to find the source but to no avail. However, taking that step he planned to ensured he'd find more than just the person speaking when he was using his last moment of pure, unadulterated freedom.

Gripping his arms from both sides, two strong presences behind him make themselves known and while his heart skipped a beat, Shawn knew he couldn't panic - they'd smell it on him.

"I'm not here to cause any trouble." Shawn speaks out, but the grip on his arms only tightens as they push him to walk forward.

"Then shut up." The same voice warns and he can't help but roll his eyes at this treatment. Sure, he wasn't expecting them to greet him with arms open wide but he didn't expect them to be so rude either.

They walked for what seemed like a long time, making Shawn wonder just how big is their territory and if their Alpha would even be there when they return with him in tow.

Though, once he laid his eyes upon the first of many structures inside their safe haven, he couldn't deny he wasn't awestruck.

It looked like a family friendly village, almost human like - something his pack hated. They spent most their time in wolf form, true to who they are, but this pack? No one was in their wolf form. It only meant they truly believed they're protected in their home.

They took him to the largest, centered house, leading him down a flight of stairs to what he could safely assume was a basement. The dark corridor forced his wolf vision to activate inadvertently, his eyes glowing yellow.

The cold didn't phase him, his wolf nature always assuring his body temperature is high, in fact, the sudden temperature drop soothes him.

What does put him on edge is the collection of dungeon like cells they walked him by, his nose picking up on blood, sweat, pee stench and well, shit wasn't lost on him either. Scrunching up his nose, Shawn grimaced, regretting the heightened sense of smell more than ever. He usually used it to smell the ocean he couldn't swim in, to track his foes, but this felt like someone pushed his head into a toilet that hadn't been cleaned in a century or so.

Finally passing the torturous dungeon, Shawn relaxes once they push him into what looks like an office of an elderly businessman, the wooden antique furniture especially leaving Shawn wondering if this is where their alpha resides.

His question is answered in moments as he hears footsteps coming and not from where she was just brought in.

Turning around, he finds a narrow, spiral staircase in the back of the office, a pair of black sneakers appearing in his peripheral vision as his guards slap him into looking away and that's when he realized the path they took him through was to purposefully put the fear of God in him.

The entrance everyone else uses isn't quite as gory as the one they forced him down and he couldn't help the bubbling anger under the surface. And he wants to make a scene, to shift and take them apart limb by limb for forcing him to suffer through it because if he is completely honest, he still feels that stench layering his nose.

Until he doesn't and the soft lilac scent drives it away in a moment, giving way for his anger to subside.

Shock replaces it.

Eyes wide and lips parting, Shawn truly couldn’t believe it.

“While you’re busy gawking, I’ll get to the point.” The infamously strong alpha Shawn heard of sits before him, legs crossed and elbow resting on the table carelessly. Every move this alpha makes is natural, like gravity. Every move the alpha makes is commanding, enchanting. Gulping, trying to calm his beating heart, Shawn blinks and awaits the end to the statement made only a second ago.

“You’re here for anything but a peace mission and I’m aware this won’t go as my father had planned. In fact, it won’t go as you planned either.” Shawn can feel his sweat rolling at the back of his neck, the chemicals in it reeking of anxiety he was certain an alpha as powerful as this one could smell.

“Make no mistake, little Beta, I am the Alpha here and you will not intimidate me or my pack.” The underlying threat is clear as day, making Shawn nod for the sake of keeping his life intact. For now.

“Does that mean you’ll kill me?” He asks, unusually timid for a Beta. His curls fall on his forehead in a mess of brown locks that distract the Alpha, but only for a moment.

“You’ll remain as our guest for the time being. I expect your Alpha to contact me once he realizes you’re not reporting back on time.” Shawn raises a brow to this, realizing what it really is. It keeps him alive for a while, but he’s far from safe.

“So, I am to be your prisoner?” He questions, knowing the answer already.

“If that’s how you want to call it.” The alpha smirks, sending an intense gaze of dangerous intentions his way.

“It won’t stop him.” Shawn states, leaning forward a little more bravely now. He knows there’s nothing left to lose.

“I’m counting on him being as gobsmacked as you are when he realizes the most powerful alpha in the world is a woman. I’m not scared of him. Nor you. Until he does come for you, I suggest you think about where your loyalty lies; with a cruel murderer or here…”

[secretsniper2]

Part 2: Wet..

I wake, rolling over my alarm says 08:00, my day starts now. Blinking and drinking in my surroundings im surprised that im not bound anymore, Master probably released me from my situation before he too went to sleep, makes sense since I still have my morning routine to do. Spreading my thighs my hand creeps under the sheets and massages my clit, moisture instantly wetting my fingers as i rub up and down, fingers dancing expertly over my throbbing clit, being denied for so long my reaction is second nature now as my back arches up off my bed as my hand continues its assault on my senses. 1 edge moments later my mind abuzz with desire. Another edge, 3 to go and my morning can really begin. On and on my fingers go, dancing circles around my needy clit. Stopping just shy of another orgasm, 3 edges down. Pushing a finger and then another into my wet pussy I rub the walls and pull out seconds later. 4 edges down, returning my fingers to my box as my other hand clutches my breast, back still arched high, I slams down to the bed and thrusts my hands to my pillow. 5 edges done.

Climbing out of bed I go and brush my hair and then my teeth. A outfit is already laid out by my Master. A latex sleeveless shirt and matching pants, black high heels and a corset. My day will clearly be a tough one for me. Looking around I cannot find anything even resembling underwear. Knowing my punishment would be beyond measure if I were to dress my pussy myself I don my latex outfit for the day. Shirt, then the pants, sliding easily up my smooth legs as my juices made for handy lubricant. Pressing the latex on my pussy I pause. A simple deep breath removes my hand from what I know is forbidden to me now my morning edges are complete. Sitting on the bedside I clip my heels on so it doesn't fall off and put on my corset, only being able to loosely cinch it without help.

With great care, I walk out my bedroom door, slow paces in my high heels, my pussy rubbing against the latex with every step sending chills down my spine making my mind drift to my little buzzer throbbing away relentlessly. down the stairs, Master was waiting for me. Standing before him I assume my position on my knees, legs open palms up, head down.

“Good morning Master” I say keeping my head low.

“Morning my dear, sleep well i hope, i have a few fun things for you to enjoy today” my Master sounds eager.. its a little unsettling.

Standing up at his command I follow him to the dining room. Breakfast is already served. Im stunned, something is going on and Im concerned by what this means, my Master has almost never made breakfast for me. Heading to my seat I spot it. A large dildo, right where my pulsing pussy would lay, with my Masters guiding hand I ease down onto the large toy. The latex over my pussy parting at the intrusion! how could I not notice that gap when I put it on?? sliding down the thick cock my pussy serving to lubricate it all the way to the base. With a wet shlop Im completely full and I havnt even touched my bacon and eggs! perhaps a drink to calm my nerves, as I take a large gulp I feel warm.. a little too warm. Looking to my Master, he confirms my suspicions by raising his own glass. My pussy now spasming around the dildo as the aphrodisiac runs its course as I lean forward and stifle a moan.

My Master laughs at my situation. “Eat up my dear, your going to need your strength.” he says sending a flurry of chills down my spine leading right to my throbbing womanhood! gasping for air I raise a shaking hand to my fork and eat my food, likely spiked as well.. yes, its spiked. With each piece I swallow I feel the heat burn hotter, like a raging inferno my body craving the 1 thing my mind knows it must never have without consent! finishing my drugged meal my Master takes me by the hand and raises me up. Stopping several times to prevent a unauthorised orgasm. Leading me to the play room I see a device I have never seen before but it scares the hell out of me.

Standing, or lying in the middle of the room is a series of Stock restraints circling a large padded seat, leading me over to it, my Master lays me down flat. locking my wrists in their own personal Stock holders, followed by my ankles. Breathing faster at this development and my need constantly rising im hoisted in the air by the cushion im laying on, my restraints following suit. Standing beside me my Master reveals more holes in my latex, a hole per nipple with which he inserts a suction cup with a wire and covering it with the latex again, leaving just the wire exposed. moving down to my clit he reveals a suction cup, its thin and long and now, attached to my maddening, throbbing buzzer, he begins pumping. My eyes fly open in a combination of fear and arousal as my clit starts to get sucked into the tube, further and further its pulled from its hood till I feel it. Something hard is touching my clit, looking down Im greeted with a wire, pressing the tip of my isolated clit with the means to make me thrash around were I not restrained already. My drug ridden mind flooding with thoughts of my soon to be, hellish day that started too calmly as my Master slides a thick metal cock into my ass. I cant see it but I can bet theres a wire attached to it as well.

Moving to my head Master puts a dildo gag in my mouth and a latex hood over my head, my long red hair pulled through the back and the hood sealed tight. I cant see, I can barely hear and I can only weakly moan around this toy in my mouth, and as my thoughts go to the toy in my mouth, it expands, and again, and again! My mouth now completely full with cock my pleas and moans now a dull grunt, barely audible to those outside my hood. My pussy feels cold air, Master has moved the latex away from my drooling slit, heat radiating off my hungry hole, I breathe deep as Master presses his tongue against my slick folds. If I could scream, I would have. instead my legs tremble uncontrollably and my arms spasm, locked in my restraints thats all I really can do. Master licks again and again drawing more fluid from me. My breathing now very audible as air rushes in and out through my nose, Then I feel it. its coming, shit IM CUMMING! and then.. pure agony. My nipples cop it first, but only by microseconds, as they light up with electricity, followed by my ass and worst of all, my throbbing clit. My eyes shoot up into my skull as Im torn down from the plateau I was cresting mere moments ago! My pussy spasms in need as my Masters tongue only redoubles its assault knowing he has me, right where he wants me.

A full hour passes, and Masters Tongue leaves my pussy as another orgasm is slammed away by the electricity as this setup is designed to deny, not reward so I scream into my inflated cock gag. A few moments pass by idle as Im left to stew in my burning need, electricity occasionally zapping my nipples to make sure im denied release from my drug fuelled arousal. I hear Master say something outside my latex hood, I cant make out the words but he seems to know that I was only moments from cumming just now and thats led his to this pause to let me calm down, if that were possible with the drugs coursing through my veins and the intoxicating latex still coating my body and head Im swimming in a sea of arousal and Im not allowed to cum even a little even in my intense exhaustion im allowed only this peace of not being dragged kicking and screaming to more denial! A familiar sensation returns as Masters tongue reaffixes itself to my Labia and once again im lit of with electricity as another orgasm is beaten back, Round 2 begins.

2 Whole hours of torturous orgasm denial at Masters hands and tongue pass as im finally lowered to the ground, it only took a minute to unlock my limbs from the hellish devices that held me down, and another minute to free my ass, nipples and clit from their own hellish devices. A flick to the clit confirms Im still conscious. My Master picks me up and carries me to the nearby lounge, there he removes my hood and gag, and rests my head on his lap and runs his fingers through my sweat soaked hair. Stripping me of my latex suit, leaving only my heels on he continues my massage, as I regain my senses slowly.

“Master.. Thank you for training this slave to serve” I say weakly, as he cups my cheek with his tender hand, I roll over and fish out his throbbing cock and begin sucking, after all that pain and denial i need something I love, i need Masters cum in my mouth to savour the taste then swallow like the Good Slave I am. Eventually im rewarded with a mouthful as i drink every drop im given and swallow, it really is delicious to me now, I cant go back to a normal life, I belong to my Master.

Taking me to the loungeroom Master instructs me to edge for my lunch. A simple task but as he turns to leave he gives me the number. 30 edges.. My pussy pulses again and the flood gates reopen, I still havnt had that orgasm my body just remembered it was desperate for. oh god could I really do 30 in a row without stopping or spilling over? My Master seems to think so. Already days into my denial and with drugs wracking my brain I begin my edges. It only took a hour but I finally got them all. Another dose of drugged lunch and Im back to normal, if horny out of my mind is normal. The rest of my day is fairly standard compared to my morning training, part of me wants to do it again but not any time soon.

Pleasuring my Masters cock I polish his shoes after that in my favourite maid outfit, remembering to always bend at the waist, never the knees, my Master loves a good show. My daily chores complete Im taken to the shower and cleaned by my Master, taking great care not to rub over my pussy too hard. A lovely steak for dinner with some wine, I could hardly taste the drug in that wine, but my pussy sure felt it. My Master, eager to set me to bed attaches a chastity belt tightly to my pussy. I dont see the point as I would never touch without permission.. right?