#just... sticking... them... here... for the off chance someone might want them... *coughs blood*

[simayeeet]

these are terrible im sorry

[whaleofatjme1920]

Coughing in the Bathroom (Eyeless Jack X F!Reader)

🌸 Coughing in the Bathroom

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: Slight blood, slight language, slight alcohol, emotional cheating]

Part 2

        In the world you live in, there’s a terrible thing called ‘Hanahaki Disease,’ and while it is ultimately rare, it is still feared widely throughout the globe. Love is an emotional virtually everyone feels, and it is through that monetary softness that the disease may take root. It affects those whose love is unrequited. 

        Five years ago, you never thought you would be under its spell. 

        The first time you met Eyeless Jack was a mess of combined hot headedness and a ‘my horse is bigger than yours’ type of deal. He was so brash and such a know it all! How could you NOT butt heads with him? The two of you spawned a little rivalry, and that rivalry grew to love. 

        How could you not fall in love with him? He’d been everything you’d ever wanted, and in your line of work, that’s hard to find. You’re what’s known as an ‘independent,’ someone who does not work directly under the Slender Man, but often crosses paths with him due to common goals and your abilities. While there is nothing inherently supernatural or otherworldly about you, you do have the gift of clairvoyance. Your clairvoyance isn’t super special, as you’re only prone to glimpses of the future based on current actions and what might (you are the world’s greatest predictor). 

        Jack IS supernatural. He’s not human, calls himself ‘a demon of some sorts.

         The Slender Man saw potential in the two of you from your rivalry and decided to put the two of you together. It was that proximity that led him to falling helplessly, hopelessly, and ardently in love with you. 

        You never saw that coming. 

        Jack had told you he loved you when the two of you had just finished some of the grossest work you’ve done to date. He didn’t want to go back to the safe house the two of you had been holed up in with various other independents and instead urged you to hang out on the roof with him. 

        “Why are you rummaging through their fridge?” You asked, hands resting on your hips with a smile on your lips. 

        “Beer?” He finally asked as he poked his head out from the door. 

        You suppressed a chuckle and threw caution for the night to the wind. “Yeah, sounds good.” 

        With that, Jack tossed you a bottle, before snatching one for himself. Normally, he doesn’t drink, but he felt as if he needed the liquid courage to face you. He felt like he was being obvious with his intentions, but you’d managed to miss every gesture and hint he threw up to this point. If you’re anything like he is, you’re dense. 

        The two of you walked upwards and opened the door to the roof and were greeted by the lights of the city. The two of you don’t spend much time in people cluttered areas, but when you do, you always spend a moment together. He took a seat next to you on one of the lawn chairs hanging around and cracked the drink open, practically gulping it down. 

        “Are you thirsty?” You chuckled before opening your own. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you down one like that before,” you noted before taking a much smaller sip yourself. 

        Jack shifted uncomfortably for a moment as he took the bottle from his lips. It’s not that he was uncomfortable with you, but he was uncomfortable with the possibility that if you didn’t feel the same way, he could be subjected to the disease that’s claimed the lives of some damn good proxies and independents who fell in love with humans they never had a chance with. He hates getting sick, but he doesn’t think he can handle a broken heart and lungs full of flowers. 

        “No I-,” he took a deep breath. “Reader, I think you’re great.”

        You laughed slightly. “I think you’re great too.”

        Jack shook his head and took another swig before he attempted to speak again. “Not like that, it’s… I’m bad with words,” he sighed, feeling overwhelmed. The man isn’t used to speaking about his feelings. 

        You raised a brow. You know Jack, your Jack, to be someone concise, clear and to the point. He’s not one to fumble over his words. He’s not one to get bashful. You know where this is going, you can see it in your mind’s eye, but you won’t say it because a part of you enjoyed his aversion. “Right now you totally suck at speaking,” you lightly joked, which made him crack the tiniest smile. 

        That’s when he shot you a look. “You already know what I’m trying to say, don’t you?” He deadpanned, eyes narrowed at you slightly in accusation. 

        You let out a laugh and nodded, hand up in submission, “I did,” you giggled. 

        “I swear,” Jack breathed out as he tossed his bottle to the stone floor before he snatched yours and repeated the action. Before you could be surprised, he took you in his arms, his lips pressed to yours in a kiss full of everything he just couldn’t say. 

        Your arms wrapped around him, pleased that he had gotten to the point. 

        Jack has always made your heart flutter. He’s charming, but in his own way. Even though you have future vision to some varying degree, he has never failed to surprise you. For your first anniversary, he had brought you to the most beautiful flower field you’d ever seen. 

        “Have you always known that this was here?” You asked, eyes shining over the field full of lavender, sunflowers, poppies and other wildflowers. The scent rivaled that of the Slender Man’s garden. 

        “I spent the past year cultivating it,” he said as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, his head resting on top of yours. “Thought you’d appreciate it.” 

        “And I’m guessing you built the gazebo too?”

        “Had some help from the proxies. Hoodie is surprisingly good at craftsmanship,” he said with a small chuckle. Jack pressed kisses to the crown of your head. 

        You allow him to sway you as you listen to the birds sing from the surrounding trees. “Is this what you were up to?” You asked. 

        Jack breathed out and shrugged. “A magician never reveals his secrets,” he teased.

        You turned around in his grasp and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hands loosely connected ‘round the back of his neck. “You suck,” you teased, sticking your tongue out before you pressed a kiss to his nose. 

        Jack laughed, his smile rivaling the warmth of the sun. “Thought that was your job,” he mused, making you gasp and smack his chest. He laughed again before you dropped the feigned annoyed attitude and joined him. 

        The rest of your anniversary was held under that gazebo, talking well into the night. 

        When the nights were hard and you were bruised from jobs that were rough, he was always there to pick you back up. You’d come back to the Slender Man’s mansion in need of minor medical attention and had only come to his home because it was close to where you’d gotten banged up. 

        “You can just wait in the waiting room,” a female proxy said as her green eyes scanned you over with little concern. She gestured for you to head down the hall to your left. “You won’t miss it.” It seemed your injuries paled in comparison to the gunshots, knife wounds, musical instruments to the skull and other more hefty injuries. 

        You thanked her with a small smile and then walked down the hall. You’d never really spent extended time in the Slender Man’s mansion; you had no reason to. You didn’t serve directly under him. Still, it was nice to be in something regal looking rather than a dirty field house wondering if the first aid kid was even usable or not. 

        You took a seat once you finally reached the waiting room, displeased to see that there were so many other people - mostly proxies - waiting for service. Some of them looked on the verge of passing out due to blood loss. How had no one attended to them yet? You waited and waited, watching as the more in danger patients were taken in before you finally nodded off. Your dreams were for the most part, empty, but your vision showed you that Jack was here, working. That thought alone was enough to wake you back up. 

        When your eyes reopened, you were overcome with emotions to see Jack in the doorway waiting for you to get up and follow him to the back. You scrambled up from your seat, mindful of not outwardly showing you were in a relationship (the Slender Man detested such bonds) and tried your best to remain cool and level headed. 

        Jack, who wore his mask, showed no signs he had any business with you until he brought you into a secluded room where he could attend to your injuries. The moment the door closed, he took off his mask and looked you over, worry lined on his face. “What’s wrong? Is it serious? O should have seen you sooner. Are you hurt-”

        “Woah, woah,” you tiredly chuckled as you took his rapidly moving hands into yours. “It’s just minor bruises and cuts. Just wanna get them disinfected. I might’ve also sprained my wrist,” you sheepishly admitted. 

        Jack’s face fell again. “Jeeze, I should have seen you earlier,” he muttered to himself, moving around the room to get the supplies he needed. He slapped on his medical gloves again, and then got to work, leaving no part of you untouched. When it stung, he hushed you with words of love. “How did this happen?” He asked quietly. 

        “Alcoholic guy had way more power than I originally expected,” you winced. “I saw the possibility of him throwing me, but not him almost tearing off my wrist by slamming it in a door.” 

        “He what?” Jack growled. 

        “He’s dead now, don’t worry,” you said before you flashed Jack a reassuring look. 

        Jack seemed barely placated by your words and continued working. 

        When he finished working, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and gave you a look that told you he didn’t want you to leave. 

        “I have to,” you said as you allowed him to snake his arms around you. “I’ll be seeing you soon though, right?” 

        “I’m gonna be stuck in this area for a while,” he mumbled into your shoulder. “And you? You’re leaving Alabama right?” 

        You hesitantly nodded and sighed into him before you took in his scent that instantly calmed you. “Yeah, unfortunately. I have some work calling me out east,” you continued as he tensed in your arms. “Besides, I’m getting the vibe that if I stay much longer, the Slender Man is gonna be pissed at us.” 

        If Jack had eyes, he’d roll them. “I don’t care what he wants or likes,” he replied. That’s not entirely true, but love does weird things to people. “Stay a moment longer.” 

        You did. 

        There were times in your five year relationship that the two of you were split up for extended periods of time mostly on the whims and requests of the Slender Man. Those times you were apart were hard. And unfortunately, the two of you couldn’t actually text or call. Phones, electronics in general, were considered liabilities for people like you due to tracking and everything else. It just wasn’t safe, and BEN can only do so much. 

        Instead, the two of you would write letters to each other and enlist the help of Jeffery’s dog, Smile. Of course, the dog doesn’t always enjoy playing mail-dog, but he does enjoy the treats and favors he gets from the two of you. 

        The fifth year of your relationship with him had been a particularly long, hard separation due to distance. The two of you traded letters weekly via Smile. Everything from little anecdotes to how much you missed each other was shared between them until you got a letter that was calm before the storm. 

        ‘Dear Reader, how have you been? I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write back to you, but Slender has put me on a really weird task. It’s time consuming as all hell and I kinda hate it. I’ve been placed with the proxies for a little while, and they all say ‘hi’ and hope you’re well as much as I do. … I love you, J.’ Of course, interspersed in the letter was a whole treasure trove of everything Jack had been up to. 

        ‘Dear Jack, I’m glad to hear you’re doing alright. I’ve been lighting up the Midwest's farm fields - I don’t know why (I do have my inklings), but the proxies I’m currently with get it. They’re a nice bunch, but the one with a pig mask is kinda mean? Maybe you’ll have to fight him or something. There’s also talk of us converting some people to the proxy side, which is weird because it’s not my territory, but I’ll do what’s asked of me. What’s the task you’re currently up to? I love you, R.’ 

        It had been a few weeks since you got the next letter, and that letter was the beginning of your end. You just didn’t know it yet, and you purposely blinded your future vision to it. 

        ‘Dear Reader, I’m so sorry it took so long to get this letter back to you! I hope I didn’t worry you, but things have once again been really, really busy. In truth, I’m not supposed to tell you about this, but as long as he doesn’t find out… I can trust you with this, but you need to promise you won’t tell anyone else? I suppose it doesn’t matter because the whole of our society is going to be talking about it regardless. We’ve never seen something like this before. Zalgo (may his name burn for all eternity) had a kid, right? They call her Leia and she’s been causing a storm of issues for the tall man. We got a hold of her and she’s been under our watch since. She’s powerful, I’ll give her that. In a way, it’s admirable, but she’s also Slender’s biggest threat. The weirdest thing? She willingly gave herself up to us because she’s got daddy issues. Can you believe that? Zalgo’s favorite kid has daddy issues. She’s naturally murderous towards proxies so Masky, Toby, Hoodie and Kate have to be extra mindful of her. For the most part, she’s with me. We talk a lot, but I have no idea if I can trust her. She’s a great conversationalist though - nothing like her father. She doesn’t look anything like him either (you have seen his human form, right?) In fact, nothing about her screams spawn of Zalgo. She looks… normal, if that’s the right word. Other than that, her attitude reminds me of you. Funny, right? She asks about you every now and then, which is odd because I try not to mention you unless it’s with Hoodie. Hoodie says hi, by extension. She seems to not like you despite having never met you, which is also incredibly strange as she’s been nothing but kind to me and the proxies (despite her trying to kill them when her instincts take over). I digress, and I miss you. I love you, J.’ 

        You’d read that letter over so many times poking and prodding it. The energy didn’t feel right, and your mind had shown you glimpses of what was to come. But of course, still in love with him, you acted like nothing was wrong and the future you had seen wasn’t absolute. 

        The first time you met Leia was largely an accident. A short while after you’d gotten that letter from Jack, you ‘swung by’ the area he was in and decided on a surprise visit. You knew Masky well enough, and the proxy had never been angry with you for visiting prior to. What difference would this one have been?

        You knocked on the door in a way that only Masky would recognize to be greeted by the unmasked proxy. 

        “You’re here for him, aren’t you?” He asked, a tired smile coming onto his lips. 

        You nodded excitedly. “Where is he?” 

        “Back room, with uh-”

        “She already knows,” both Hoodie and Kate said in unison as they barely spared a glance over their shoulders from the terrible movie playing on Lifetime. 

        Masky shot a slight glare towards his teammates but relented and moved aside in the doorway. “Have fun,” he said as you stepped inside. “Don’t do anything stupid and if you do, do so quietly?” 

        You slapped Masky’s shoulder and walked down the hall. You took a brief moment to wave to Toby who was reading something in one of the rooms before you reached the end where you heard laughter. To be polite, you knocked on the door, and to your surprise, it was not Jack who answered the door. 

        There she stood with long silver hair and the most alluring blue eyes you’d ever seen, her skin as warm as the cinnamon that floated on top of hot chocolate in the winter. She gave you a sickly saccharine smile before she turned her head over her shoulder to address Jack, “Reader is here,” she giggled. 

        You bit back a grimace but smiled when Jack got up and gently moved Leia aside in the doorframe to greet you. 

        “It’s so good to see you,” he said as he took you into his arms before he crushed you in his grip. “How have you been?” He whispered in your ear before he peppered your face with kisses. 

        You wished you could have enjoyed the moment as you laughed in his arms, but your eyes fluttered open for just a moment to see Leia’s unamused expression. “I’m okay,” you replied in a tone lacking the enthusiasm Jack expected to hear. 

        “Are you sure?” He asked as he checked you over to ensure you physical self was safe. His hands cupped your cheeks as you were forced to look up at him. 

        “Of course,” you replied in an attempt to play it cool. 

        “If you say so,” he trailed off before taking your hand in his and leading you to sit next to him on the bed. 

        From there, the world’s most awkward conversation took place between Jack and Leia with you attempting to cut in every once and a while. You saw it in little glimpses. 

        Her eyes never left his sockets, and he allowed it. 

        When her hand touched his knee, he made no motion to move it. 

        When she laughed, he smiled in a way that only you had been used to seeing. 

        He talked with her with so many inside jokes, you felt as if you were just peeking in on someone else’s conversation, not one you were invited to.

        Gradually, through the hour, he’d moved closer to her than he had you. While his arm remained loosely wrapped around your waist, he’d leaned forward to hear her better. He watched her interaction first after he shared a story. His focus was on her. You’d left his field of vision. 

        A few weeks into your fifth year was all it took. 

        Things did not get any easier from there. Eventually, you were moved to helping the group in regards to Leia. According to Slender, it was to ‘protect her’ from her father and her now murderous siblings. That’s when the rift grew wider, and the roots took hold. 

        See, after that first in person interaction with Leia, you’d felt a scratchiness in your lungs. At first, you chalked it up to being under the weather, but after being moved to Masky’s group, you knew nothing would ever be the same. Your worst fear had come true, and all it took was a pair of blue eyes. 

        Physically, Jack was still yours. He’d hold you, kiss you and touch you like you were still his. He never physically left your side, nor did his flesh betray your relationship. No, it was something much deeper than that that brought about the sprouts that took hold in your lungs. 

        Emotionally, he’d left you the moment he laid sockets on her. Why did he give in so easily? Who knows - boredom? A premature seven year itch? You’re not sure. But you saw it - you saw his heart leave the space it once shared with you and take up residence with hers, and it was painful. So, so painful. 

        He looked at her like she owned the moon and commanded the tides. 

        He smiled at her in a way he used to smile with you. 

        He spoke to her in a tone so gentle, you assumed he’d only used it for you. 

        He spoke with you less frequently, and when he did, it was much shorter and to the point. Whenever you prodded him, he had chalked it up to being stressed and that of course, he still loved you. 

        “You’re just being paranoid.” 

        He told her things you’d never even scratched the surface of. 

        She viewed him as hers. 

        And he allowed it without leaving the safety net that was you. 

        Of course, this did not go unnoticed by the proxies. None of them wanted to get directly involved though. 

        Hoodie was amongst the most disturbed as he was usually the first to call out Jack’s bullshit and the first proxy to inquire about you and your wellbeing. Despite not spending any time with you, Hoodie viewed you as a good friend. 

        "You realize what you're doing isn't cool, right?" Hoodie said as he walked back to the temp house with Jack. 

        "I'm not doing anything," Jack replied. "This about Leia?"

        "No, it's about Pennywise we met last year - of course it's about Leia," Hoodie hissed as he rolled his eyes. "You're digging a hole you won't be able to get back out of. You know that, right?"

        Jack lightly shoved Hoodie's shoulder in response. He was uncomfortable with what Hoodie had insinuated, mostly because Hoodie's BS meter is never far off the mark and normally strikes true. But when he entered that house and saw Leia sitting at the table, he couldn't help but take his place at her side. 

        Perhaps Kate just believes in girl code, but as a fellow being under the Slender Man’s control, she’s got her eye out for you. She believed wholeheartedly that what Jack was doing was scummy, but of course, her focus is on you. It came in mugs of hot chocolate and late night living room talks. She cares, just quietly. 

        "Don't overwork yourself, okay?" She said softly as she draped a blanket around your shoulders. 

        You'd been nodding off much more in the living room than in the room you shared with Jack. "What?" You said sleepily. 

        Kate chuckled softly and let you rest your head on her lap. "Turn your brain off for a while with me and let's watch this gods awful movie." Anything to get your mind off of what's going on and if this movie does it for you, that's good enough for the moment. 

        "Yes, ma'am," you tiredly rib, a smile on your lips. 

        Toby is inexperienced when it comes to these things. He was the first person to find you hacking up forget-me-nots. That was a scary experience as he’s never seen the Hanahaki before. He’s too young and too inexperienced, where would he have seen it? 

        He can distinctly remember walking with you, patrolling the area for threats when you suddenly stopped. It’d been a few months of you in his group's care, and he’d seen you retreat into yourself the longer Jack spent time with Leia. He knew it, just didn’t know how to go about it. 

        “What’s w-w-wrong?” He asked. 

        You waved for him to go on. “I’m fine-” you tried to wheeze out before you began violently coughing. 

        Toby initially thought you were going through what Masky did. He’s handled that before and naively thought he could help you until he rushed to your side to see the small forming pile of blue flowers covered sparsely in drops of blood. “Oh n-n-no,” he whispered as he knelt at your side. He held you like you were glass. “R-Reader-”

        “I said I’m fine!” You tried to reason before coughing once more, this time more blood than cursed flower. 

        “Does t-t-this look f-f-fine to you?” He asked in stress and worry. “We n-need to t-t-tell M-Masky or J-Ja-”

        “No,” you coldly cut off as you wiped your mouth of the blood that dribbled down your chin. 

        Toby wanted to fight that notion badly, but instead focused on getting you back safe. “I-I’ll tell M-Masky we s-saw some n-n-not deer on t-the p-property,” he murmured as he carefully picked you back up. 

        You allowed him. 

        Masky knew the moment you walked back into the temp house with Toby holding you as inconspicuous as he could. It’s unfortunate, he thinks, because he knows what that’s like - to love someone and physically suffer because of it. 

        One day, he’d sent everyone out of the house except for you and urged you to sit down and have some apple cider with him to ‘celebrate’ his favorite season, fall. 

        “Let’s not beat around the bush,” he began. “You’ve got it.”

        You shifted uncomfortably and averted your gaze from his and chose to look into your apple cider than his eyes. “What?”

        “Reader,” Masky sighed as he sat up in his seat. “Please…”

        “It’s not that serious,” you attempted to retort. “It’s not… It’s not that bad.”

        “You’re delusional,” Masky said. “I saw the flowers in the trash bin.”

        You rolled your eyes but crossed your arms over your chest anyways in an attempt to soothe yourself. 

        “You know what happens, right?” He continued, leaning forward. “It either takes you or you get the surgery done.” 

        A pregnant pause passes before you reluctantly speak. 

        “Is… Is it really that bad?” 

        Masky nodded, “From experience? Yeah,” he mumbled. 

        You gave him a look of both sympathy and intrigue. 

        “The Operator forced me to get the surgery,” he admitted. 

        You look into his eyes and see for the first time that he’s empty. His dark brown eyes, that are full of amiability, protective nature, it’s all a front. He doesn’t actually feel that way - it is what is expected of him, but he is hollow. 

        “What happened?” You asked shyly, unsure if that’s too sensitive or not. 

        “I don’t quite remember as that’s an outcome of having the surgery,” Masky hummed. “But I remember that I loved him- I don’t feel it, obviously - but I remember that I loved him more than anything, would’ve moved mountains for him, and then he died,” he sounded vaguely perturbed by the words, but they did not reach his heart. “I think his name was Jay.” 

        You felt something pierce your heart, but it was interrupted by the flowers in your lungs blooming through your mouth. 

        Masky held you as you coughed petals and blood in the bathtub. 

        You promised Masky you were going to speak things over with Jack. You promised you were going to solve this. But when he spoke to you with his empty words coated in honey, the pain became too much to bear. It hurt. Seeing him hurt. Hearing him hurt.

        “Jack?” You ask quietly, slowly sitting up in the bed you shared with him, much too used to his arms not being slinked around your form by this point. 

        He roused slightly in the bed before he opened his eyes. “Yeah? What’s up?” He asks, a slight bite in his voice from being woken up. 

        “Can we talk about something?” 

        “Can’t it wait?” He sighs in a slightly exasperated tone. 

        You shake your head, and through the darkness, Jack’s form sloughs in defeat. 

        “What is it?” He asks. 

        “Are we okay?”

        “Of course we’re okay.”

        “Are you sure?”

        “Yes.”

        “Do you love me?” 

        “I love you more than anything,” he replies, hand gripping yours. 

        He feels like ice. 

        “And what about Leia?”

        “She’s a really good friend of mine.”

        He suddenly feels warm. 

        “I’m sorry for waking you.” 

        “It’s nothing, now go to sleep, baby. We can talk about this in the morning,” he says with a small yawn before falling back into the comfort of slumber. 

        Your other hand at this point, has wrapped over your mouth to stifle the sounds of silence and the threat of flowers crawling up from your esophagus. You suffer in silence for a few minutes until you’re certain he’s asleep, then quietly excuse yourself to the bathroom. 

        You begin to cough as softly as you can, not wanting to be a burden to anyone in the house as forget-me-nots begin to fill up the sink. Blood splatters on the porcelain as well as the mirror. Your eyes are full of tears. You feel cold, much too cold. 

        As you continue to empty your lungs in vain, the light flicks on. You’re in too much pain and absorbed in velvety petals to realize it at first. 

        “I thought I told you to handle this,” Masky’s exhausted voice chides gently, his eyes dipping to the mess you’ve left in the basin of the sink. 

        You grip the edge of the sink before hacking up the rest of what the garden in your lungs has to offer before slinking down to the tile floor, utterly exhausted. “Turn the light off,” you whisper. Your back rests against the tub. 

        Masky does as you ask, allowing the moonlight to overtake as the main source of light in the small bathroom. His shoulders sag slightly as he joins you on this floor, his arm around your shoulders. “Get some sleep,” he says softly, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. 

        You smile softly as the flowers continue to clog up your lungs. It looks like another fit is coming. 

        “Just let it pass,” he murmurs softly into your ear, his head resting loosely on top of yours as you attempt to suppress the flowers from reemerging. “It’ll be over soon.” 

        You move your eyes to look at his profile before you take in the scent of cigarettes. You continue to feel your lungs grow heavy with blossoms when you hear Leia’s door open. Her steps pad quietly along the wooden floor as she crosses the hall to the room you used to share with Jack. “You promise?” You manage to choke out before stifling your coughs as quietly as you can. Your eyelids are growing heavier. You can hear your heartbeat through your chest to the hallways of your ears. Leia has slipped into bed with Jack. You hear him shift. He’s holding her now. 

        “I promise,” he says gently, holding you just a little tighter. 

        You close your eyes and listen to Masky hum, hoping sleep washes over you soon.

[kohanayaki]

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 6

You continue the tale of how you, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter became known as The Marauders.

LINKS:   CH 1   CH 2    CH 3   CH 4   CH 5   CH 6   CH 7   CH 8

___________________________________________________________

Ch 6 .:The Making of the Marauders:.

~Previously~

“That was when they were first starting to put the map together,” you continued, “but that wasn't even the biggest secret they had. Of course, I wouldn't find out about that for another year. . .”

“So at this point I knew that they were hiding something else, but not what it was,” you told Harry, continuing on with your story, “But one night we had planned to meet up and use the invisibility cloak to map out the underground tunnels that ran through the storage cellars, and they never showed up. So I snuck into the Gryffindor common room through the secret passage and found their dorm completely empty. But what was there was our work in progress map. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1975  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This isn't going to work,” Peter said flatly, watching James and Sirius draw a large circle in chalk on the floor of the Shrieking Shack.

“Not with that attitude it's not,” James said, “if there's a way we can speed up this process I'm willing to give it a go. I don't know how long I can go on with this bloody leaf in my mouth.”

“Is this even real?” Peter sighed, “it looks like what muggles think magic is.”

“It's real all right,” Sirius said, “old, but real. I mean, Transfiguration was founded on the principles of magic circles! I'm not really sure what these runes on the side mean, but it's probably not important.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Peter retorted, “Remus, back me up here.”

He turned towards Lupin, but he had long since dozed off, arms crossed as he leaned against one of the nearly decaying walls in the corner. Peter sighed, taking a piece of paper from the ground and crumpling it into a ball before promptly throwing it in the sleeping boy's face. Lupin jolted awake, realizing what had happened and chucking the paper back at Peter in annoyance.

“Not a moment of peace,” he huffed under his breath.

“Sounds awfully boring,” James said over his shoulder.

“Blimey, what time is it?” Remus said, panicked as he noticed the light had completely gone from the sky, “It's long past sundown.”

“So?” Sirius shrugged.

“So, we told (Y/n) we'd meet them to work on the map at dusk,” Remus said, “They're probably looking for us right now!”

“Oh, they are,” you announced your presence, an unimpressed look on your face as they jumped, whipping around to look at you.

“(Y-Y/n)!” Sirius stuttered, “how did you—”

You held up the map, raising a brow at the four guilty looking boys.

“Right. . .”

“You snuck into our rooms?!” James said incredulously as he saw the map, which he was sure he had left on his bedside table, in your hands.

“You've snuck into my shower before, Potter,” you glared lightly at him.

“Point taken.”

“Okay, look, I'm sorry we didn't show tonight, and I know we've been acting weird,” Sirius sighed, “the truth is—”

“Lupin's a werewolf.” 

The color drained from Remus' face, slightly mortified that you already knew.

“Come on, guys,” you said, “the claw marks and you lot disappearing whenever there's a full moon kind of gave it away. You aren't exactly subtle about it.”

You could sense the intense nervousness in the room, especially from Remus. Ok, so maybe coming right out with it wasn't the best course of action.

“Look,” you said, “if you're worried about anyone else finding out, they won't. I mean, the only reason I even knew you were here is because I'm literally helping you make a magical map that details all the secret passages and shows where everyone is. I won't tell anyone, I swear.”

They still seemed a little unsure, and you bit the inside of your lip slightly.

“If it'll make us even, I'll let you know a secret of my own,” you said, “it can even be future blackmail me if you really don't trust me.”

“No, it's not that, (Y/n),” Remus said as he stepped forward, his throat feeling dry, “it's just, well, I've never really told anyone except the people in this room. Having someone else know. . . it's just a lot to process, but if had to be anyone I'm glad it's you.” He paused for a moment, feeling oddly self-conscious as he regarded you. “When I turn into a werewolf I can't recognize any human as someone I know. I have no control over myself in that state. In the worst case scenario, I could injure or even kill someone I didn't mean to. We originally started taking note of the secret passages and rooms to find a place where I could turn safely and not hurt anyone, and we settled on here. I don't remember much when I come out of it, but. . . I do feel this painful sense of separation each time. Werewolves are pack creatures by nature, so being isolated in that state is. . . agony, if I must be honest. They all figured, I can't recognize humans, but perhaps I could recognize other animals, so. . .”

“They're trying to become animagi,” you finished, “so you won't have to be alone. That's. . . that's actually really sweet,” you said, a breathy laugh escaping you.

Remus thanked Merlin the Shrieking Shack was as dimly lit as it was so his beet red face was at least somewhat less noticeable.

“I agree,” Remus said, turning to his friends and sharing a rare, genuine moment with them. “And, you don't have to tell us your secret,” he said, turning back to you, “it's okay.”

“Hey, I wanted to know,” Sirius said, Peter swiftly elbowing him in the ribs.

“I was actually planning on telling you anyways,” you said, “If you guys are trying to become animagi, I can help you.”

You took a few steps back, bracing yourself against the wall.

“Promise me you won't freak out.”

After receiving a few quick nods, you kicked off the wall. Your body seemed to morph in mid-air, shrinking and re-configuring so fast that by the time you landed on the floor you had been entirely replaced by a large, (e/c)-eyed wolf with fur reminiscent of your hair.

Peter yelped, instinctively putting Sirius in front of him who was gawking at the sight. Remus was in complete shock and you could have sworn you saw James' glasses slip down his face.

In your animal form your heightened senses could sense their fear, and you tried your best to assuage it. You padded around in a circle, sitting down and blinking up at them to try and show them you were in control of your actions. After you figured they'd seen enough, you crawled back into your robes, which had pooled on the floor when you'd transfigured, and willed your body to turn back.

James, Sirius, and Peter looked somewhere in the intersection of shocked and terrified, but Remus looked nothing less than impressed.

“That's amazing, (Y/n),” he said breathlessly, “your transformation was seamless, how long have you had this ability?”

“My aunt had me go through the process when I was nine,” you said, a bitter edge to your voice as you fastened your clothes back around you, “it's not fun, but obviously useful. And thank you, but trust me, it didn't come at all naturally to me. I spent a good part of my winter break stuck with a wolf's hind legs, which is just as inconvenient as it sounds.”

“But this proves that it's possible!” James said, a new rush of energy invigorating him, “we can actually pull this off.”

“If I can manage to keep this sodding leaf from choking me every ten minutes,” Peter grumbled.

“Here, this should help with that,” you said, drawing your wand and pointing it at Peter's mouth. With a simple sticking charm, he suddenly felt the odd sensation of the leaf in his mouth disappearing, only to find it had melded with the flesh on the underside of his tongue.

“It's a long process, but yes, it's possible,” you said to James. Your eyes drifted to the floor where the magic circle and pages of runes were still scattered about, “if you were thinking of taking shortcuts, you might have wanted to read the warning about this spell requiring a blood sacrifice.”

The quartet paled and you laughed at their dumbstruck expressions.

“Kidding,” you grinned, “but seriously, there's no shortcuts. Now look alive, boys. We have a lot of work to do.”

_________________________________________________________

From then on, you helped the four wizards along on their quest to become fully fledged shifters.

“In order to become an animagus, a wizard must keep a Mandrake leaf in their mouth for an entire month, even when eating and sleeping,” Peter read aloud from the book they'd snatched from the restricted section, “Next, under a full moon, the wizard must place the leaf in a vial full of dew that has neither been stepped on nor exposed to the sun. The resulting potion must be stored in a dark place, and the following incantation: Amato Animo Animato Animagus, must be recited every morning until an electrical storm arrives, at which point the potion can be taken.”

“Blimey, all that to turn into a bloody cat?” Sirius said, exasperated.

“Well we have the first part almost done,” James said, feeling the faintest outline of the leaf still under his tongue, “Next full moon we'll have to go dew-hunting, I suppose. Looks like you'll have to stick it out for a few more cycles, Moony,” he said to Remus.

“That's alright,” he said, “I've made it this far.”

“He won't be alone for those,” you said, “I'll spend the full moons with him until you guys are ready.”

“What?” James said, looking at you like you'd just told him you were off to join Voldemort, “not a chance, that's way too dangerous.”

“Aw, don't act like you're all concerned about me all of a sudden, Potter,” you smirked. When his expression didn't change it took you aback slightly. He was actually worried about you. “Look, I'm probably the best suited for it anyways,” you said, coughing a bit to coast through the awkward tension, “Remus and I are both wolves, or at least partly. If one of you end up turning into a sheep or something you might be dead meat, not to freak you out or anything.”

“That's reassuring,” Sirius said under his breath.

____________________________________________________________

“You really don't have to do this,” Lupin insisted as you sat on the floor together in the Shrieking Shack later that month.

“I want to,” you assured him, “take it as a thanks for helping me pass Arithmancy. Besides, it's a perfectly fine excuse for me to practice interacting with other animals in my animagus form.”

The boy beside you was quiet for a moment, shoulders tense and jaw set tight. It wasn't that he wasn't happy you were here, he was more grateful than you could know, but he was terrified that he was going to end up hurting you. On top of that was the fact that he didn't want you to see him as he transformed. It wasn't pretty, and it was visibly painful. He didn't want you to think any lower of him, though he knew that fear was irrational.

The calming jazz record that spun on the other side of the room was the only noise between you two for quite some time, but you understood that he needed time to gather his thoughts. This was something so deeply personal you were surprised and a bit honored he allowed you to be here at all. You noticed the photograph that he held in his hands; it was of Hogwarts, taken from the very edge of the forest. The sun was peeking over the horizon, spilling out between the complexly constructed towers that made up the castle's exterior, and casting a warm, golden hue over the landscape.

“It's beautiful,” you said, “the picture.”

“It is,” Remus smiled to himself and nodded, “James gave it to me, as a reminder. He said that matter what happens during the full moon, the sun will always rise on us again.”

“Huh,” you mused softly, “perhaps he isn't such an insufferable jerk after all.”

“Oh, no, he is,” Lupin chuckled, “but he is also a very good friend, and endlessly thoughtful even if he denies it.”

You let that sink in for a moment. You supposed he was.

“Well,” you said, laughing a bit as you shifted in your seat, “this isn't as deep and meaningful as the photo, but I brought something for you.” You reached into your bag, retrieving something that made Remus' eyes widen.

“Where did you get that?” he said, elated as you held out his favorite chocolate bar which had been out of stock at Hogsmeade for weeks now.

“You guys have a secret tunnel that goes right to the Honeydukes cellar and you've never taken advantage of their storage?” you grinned.

Lupin hesitated as he held the bar in his hands.

“So you stole it?”

“I left five dracma in the tip jar,” you rolled your eyes, “I'm not a death eater.”

His smiled returned at that, and he ripped open the familiar foil gratefully.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“It's the least I could do,” you said.

“It's really not,” he said, turning to face you fully. You were left a bit breathless as the unexpected intensity of his eyes. “None of this is the least you could do, because the least you could do is nothing,” he continued, rambling, “we were so horrible to someone you consider a dear friend, and you were willing to look past that. You're risking your life by even being with me right now, (Y/n).”

“You don't—”

“I do know that,” Remus said sharply, “I've never been in contact with anyone as a werewolf. The one time I was, I. . .” he trailed off, and it hurt you to see his pained expression, “I just don't know how I'll react.”

“You're saying that as if something bad's already happened,” you said gently, “it'll be okay.”

“How can you be so sure?” he asked quietly, equally full of frustration and admiration.

“I'm willing to put my trust in you, Remus. I think it's time you put some trust in yourself.”

Lupin's heart pounded a little harder in his chest. Had you ever called him by his first name before? You looked at him so reassuringly, so confidently. He couldn't understand it, but your words reached him to his core.

“(Y/n). . .” he trailed off, blinking rapidly. A shaky breath escaped him, and your stomach dropped.

“Remus?”

Suddenly you saw something shift in him. His breathing became heavy and his pupils dilated, completely filling his irises in a matter of seconds. He braced himself against the wall as he stumbled to his feet, his skin slowly taking on a gray hue.

“It's happening,” he said, voice deeper and strained, his neck convulsing, “you have to transform, now!”

You didn't waste any time, taking the shape of your wolf form and padding away a cautionary distance. Your stomach churned as you watched Remus yell out, his expression full of pain as his body grew in size, his cries slowly becoming reminiscent of howls. His face contorted in agony as his head morphed into a more animalistic shape, ears growing from his scalp and fur appearing as if his werewolf was fully formed inside him, physically escaping through his skin. You've seen werewolves before, but seeing someone you know actually turn into one, it was completely different. Nothing could have prepared you for this. Seeing anyone in this much pain made your chest tighten harshly.

At last it seemed the transformation was complete. Remus Lupin was gone, and in front of you stood a creature of at least eight feet, perched on his hind legs and towering over you especially in your animal form. You could hear how ragged his breathing had become, his body convulsing with the motion; growing and retracting like a beating heart. You heard a whimper escape his throat, and you could tell he was still recovering from the pain.

You steeled yourself, making the decision to alert him to your presence subtly. You tilted your head upwards, releasing a similar sounding whimper to his. Immediately the werewolf across from you was on high alert, his head snapping towards you and his lips pulling back into a snarl as his ears lowered. You took an instinctive step back, lowering your head slowly. He seemed puzzled by your behavior, which made sense seeing as Lupin told you he never interacted with any other animals during the full moon. His head tilted inquisitively and he took a heavy step forward. You forced yourself to not back away, testing the waters. His eyes narrowed again as he saw you standing your ground, but you quickly sat down, your head tilting to expose your neck slightly. You made doubly sure not to show any signs of aggression; you knew you had no chance against a werewolf at full strength.

However, he seemed to take your queues well. His tail seemed to relax a bit, his eyes returning to their full, round shape as he looked at you with curiosity. You sniffed up at him and he hesitated, but eventually circled around you and did the same. You could almost see the turmoil in him, as a werewolf you doubted anyone he came across treated him with anything less than terror in their eyes, but you were completely relaxed.

He whimpered again, and you were shocked at the sign of submission. You rose to your feet, and he didn't back away. You let out a friendly yip, which he returned, and you felt the weight lift off your chest. You leaped to the side, and he followed you, running alongside you as you bounded across the room, practically leaping off the walls. You jumped at each other playfully, rolling across the floor in a mess of fur. You smiled inwardly as this continued throughout the night, no longer seeing fear or pain or aggression in his eyes when you looked into them. Even if he wouldn't remember most of this, you hoped he would at least feel better in the morning than all the times he had to go through it alone.

Exhausted from all the playing around, you padded softly back to your robes, crawling inside yours and and gesturing over to him with your head. He followed you, coming down to all fours before laying beside you. You weren't sure when sleep came over you, but it was like the world's most comfortable blanket had been thrown over your shoulders, and your eyes drifted closed of their own volition. . .

“Merlin's beard, just what were you two doing last night?!”

You and Remus both jolted awake at the sound of James Potter's aggravatingly loud voice but quickly came to your senses. Remus' arms were wrapped around you, your back facing him. You were just barely covered by your robes with nothing underneath as a result of your transformation. As you scrambled to get decent your face heated even more as you saw Remus was currently without a shirt, his pants ripped considerably. You scrambled away from each other, trying to make yourselves decent.

Peter was howling with laughter, James looking smug as ever. Sirius was oddly quiet, but you were too wrapped up in the embarrassment to notice his behavior.

“What was that about being 'endlessly thoughtful'?” you grumbled to Remus.

“Right, I completely take back what I said,” he scoffed, “ 'insufferable jerk' is much more accurate.”

“Close your eyes, you perverted git!” you yelled at James, who was blatantly staring at you, “toss me my clothes at least, would you?”

James bit back a smirk as he grabbed your bag that was sitting in the corner of the room— clothes you had brought with the intention of changing into after returning to your human form when Lupin fell asleep. He tossed it over to you and you began to change under your robes. As his back was turned to you his mind began to wander. You'd always been attractive, sure, but since you'd always been his rival he hadn't really given you a second thought, especially when he'd been trying to get Lily's attention for ages. But just now, thinking about how downright adorable you looked when you'd yelled at him, something in him shifted. He shook it off quickly, turning to Lupin with a grin he'd managed to put on concernedly fast.

“You cheeky bastard,” he said to Remus, who was furiously changing into a new shirt, “you just wanted her alone, didn't you? Do you really need us to become animagi after all?”

“You're the worst, Potter,” the werewolf glared at him.

“Don't listen to him, Remus,” you grumbled, straightening out your tie as you slipped it on over your shirt, “he's an even bigger idiot than he looks.”

“Are you implying I look stupid?”

“Implying may not be a strong enough word.”

__________________________________________________________

It had taken months of brewing the potion and getting all the necessary preparations in order, but they were finally ready. Remus sat with you in the grass, wand at the ready to undo any untoward transfiguration that happened on accident. Peter, Sirius, and James stood across from you, standing at the edge of a stone ledge about five feet off the ground. You'd said that a leap of faith is what would best trigger their first transformation. They looked nervous, but they were prepared as they'd ever be. Over the last year you had grown considerably closer to the four boys you had miraculously come to know as friends.

“Remember, focus on your emotions,” you said, “you need to pick a strong one, let it fill your body and flow through you. If you block the magic off from any part of your body, it's not going to be pretty.”

“Right, but how do I—”

“James, I swear, I'm really rooting for you to be a mute animal.”

“But how do you choose-”

“Just do it already!”

“Oh, sod it,” James squeezed his eyes shut, not giving himself time to second guess before jumping off the ledge. For a moment he was certain he was about to land face first in the dirt, but then it happened— a moment where time seemed to freeze and his body felt completely weightless. He felt this sensation where his arms and legs vibrated with an intense, foreign energy. Images flashed through his mind in that brief moment in the air; Sirius manically laughing as they ran away from Filch, Remus snapping off a piece of chocolate to offer him after he'd lost Gryffindor a Quidditch match, and, unexpectedly, you. A feeling of warmth spread through his chest, and he grasped onto it, letting it flow through his body like you said. In an instant he felt torso shift, his shoulders narrow, his neck elongate; and when he landed on the ground he still landed face-first as he predicted, but in a completely different form.

He could see you and Lupin in front of him, mouths agape. He was about to say something when he found his vocal chords only allowed him a gruff whine. Shocked, he lifted his head, which felt much heavier than he'd last recalled, and as he looked down at himself he was taken aback to be met with a pair of hooves right beneath him. He staggered to his feet on wobbly legs, of which he now had four. As he tilted his head he could see the shadow of a pair of antlers twisting into brilliant shadows on the grass.

“Potter, you did it!” you exclaimed, “you actually did it!”

“Well how about that,” Remus chuckled, “a stag.”

“It fits him, I think,” you grinned, looking over at Sirius and Peter who looked determined and terrified respectively. “Well go on, it's your turn now!”

Sirius braced himself for the jump, but somehow he found no fear in his system. After seeing James shift in the air right before his eyes, he knew he could do it. He looked over at Peter who was nearly shaking.

“Come on, Peter,” he said, “we'll go together.”

“I-I don't know about this, Sirius,” Peter said, “I'm not ready, I don't think I can do this.”

“It's just a little jump,” Sirius said encouragingly, “you can do this.”

After a few nerve wracking deep breaths Peter gave him the smallest nod one could manage.

“We'll go on three,” Sirius said, “Ready? One—”

“AaHH!”

Sirius shoved Peter off the ledge, knowing he wouldn't jump on his own, before taking the plunge himself. Peter's screams became higher and higher pitched as he shrank at an alarming speed, almost an undetectable size by the time he hit the grass. A small brown rat scurried across the field towards you and Lupin.

The stag in front of you made a sound, dragging his hooves across the grass in what you could imagine as James' unadulterated laughter at his friend.

Sirius began to morph almost as soon as he left the ground, something you were surprised by. He landed on his hind legs, landing gracefully as his front two followed, and a shaggy black dog looked back at you with mischief in its eyes.

You couldn't help but go over and pet him. You laughed as he nudged you with his nose, a resistance that was quickly halted as soon as you started scratching him behind the ears.

“I have to say, I didn't think you would actually manage that on your first try,” you said, secretly prouder than they could have known, “but if anyone could have done it, it's you three stubborn goons.”

James huffed as he saw you continue to pet Sirius, using his antlers to prod the dog out of the way. Sirius barked, lunging at him playfully. It was quite a scene to see the two interact.

“Honestly, this is a pretty solid group,” you said, “you've got James who blends perfectly with the surrounding wildlife so he wouldn't be suspicions, Sirius who could probably do a fair bit of damage as a dog if he needed, and Peter who can fit through small spaces and snoop around the castle virtually undetected.”

“Quite an odd pack,” Remus chuckled.

“Definitely,” you agreed, “but a pack nonetheless.”

And that very week, Remus Lupin was able to spend his first night as a werewolf with his four friends by his side.

__________________________________________________________

“So, how did we choose which animals we turn into?” James had asked you the next day at breakfast, “I specifically tried for a dragon.”

“You don't get to choose,” you rolled your eyes, “You're a stag, that's the end of it. It's pretty much up to chance.”

“I'm sorry, you're telling me I could have turned into a fish and died right there on the ground?!”

“If only,” you sighed dreamily, earning you a playful shove from James. “Alright, it's not completely random, but you're definitely in the unknown the first time you turn,” you went on to explain, “and once you turn for the first time, that's it. That's your animal. A wizard takes on the animagus form of whatever animal most closely resembles their personality. So, a horny bastard for James, a loyal little puppy for Sirius—”

“A bitch for you,” Sirius quipped.

“Never heard that one before,” you scoffed, purposefully messing up his hair.

“Hey, watch it!” he shoved you off him, twisting each of his curls back into form.

“Well, look who's a high maintenance pup,” you chuckled.

Around the same time that year, you finally completed the map. It came together beautifully, each different way of folding the paper revealing a different level of the castle for easy navigation. You'd included the surrounding forests as well as the parts of Hogsmeade that applied for the secret passageways, all of which were marked with symbols and the unique names you'd all come up with. Every student and staff member at Hogwarts had a tiny scroll with their name that appeared in their location. Remus had added the nice detail of including footprints at the last second, so you could see which way they were facing and walking as well. It was fireproof, rip proof, and prone to insulting anyone else who tried to read it. It was the pinnacle of your magical (and slightly illegal) achievement.

“We should write our names on it,” James said, looking down proudly at the finished map, “it belongs to us, after all. We don't want anyone else taking the credit.”

“Yeah, fantastic way to get caught,” Sirius rolled his eyes, “what if Filch comes across it? That's like leaving your signature at a murder scene.”

“You should use code names, then,” you suggested, “I know you guys call Remus 'Moony' as a joke, but I kind of like it.”

The scarred boy blushed lightly at the compliment, a brow raised to his other three friends.

“Alright then, I guess you should all say hi to Rudolph over here,” Sirius said, jutting his thumb in James' direction. The bespectacled boy narrowed his eyes before shooting back.

“Right! And this is my good friend, Snuffles.”

Sirius lunged at him and James swatted him away in laughter.

“Come on, you two,” Remus said, “or we won't put anything down for you at all.”

“I've got an idea for Peter,” you piped in, “When my mom used to garden she said she didn't mind having rats there because their tails resembled worms, which were an old a sign of healthy soil, I know it's odd, but I think Wormtail sounds pretty cool.”

Peter seemed to perk up at your acknowledgment and nodded. It suited him somehow.

“Should we pick animal features too, then?” James mused, “I guess Antlers doesn't really sound that cool. What's another word? Horns? Give me some analogies, guys. What else do they look like?”

“Yours honestly kind of look like a couple of bent forks,” you snickered.

“Prongs?” Sirius snorted, the laughter that followed nearly splitting his sides.

“Oh, go on, what have you got then?” James scoffed.

“I was thinking Padfoot,” Sirius said, “like a dog's paw prints.”

“You know, for someone who was just making fun of code names a second ago you sure have given a lot of thought to yours,” you teased.

“Shove it,” he smirked, “What about you? Can't very well have a second Moony.”

You stared at him in momentary disbelief.

“Me?”

“Well, yeah,” Sirius chuckled.

“We couldn't have done any of this without you,” Remus reminded you with a smile.

“I think you've more than earned an honorary title as one of us,” James said.

“That is, if you want to,” Peter said timidly.

You looked at the four of them, genuinely touched.

“I. . . I don't know what to say,” you smiled.

“You could say 'yes',” James piped up.

“Alright, you loons,” you laughed, “if you leave Severus alone for good, then yes.”

“Hey, I think we've been pretty good about that lately,” James pouted.

“Yes you have,” you admitted, “It's the only reason I bothered to give you the time of day, but this time it's a promise.”

James rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face was undeniable. He'd never admit it out loud, but being friends with you was more fun than messing with Snape ever was.

“Alright, fine. (Y/n) (L/n), I solemnly swear that I will leave tormenting our dear old friend Snivelus behind us forever,” he said dramatically, putting a hand up at his pledge.

“Oh, bother,” you laughed, “the only thing you'll 'solemnly swear' to is that you're up to no good.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

“Then that's settled,” Remus smiled, “you'll need a code name too.”

“Let's see,” Sirius hummed in thought, “What other defining features do wolves have besides. . . well, their. . . fangs?”

“They're canines, you numbnut,” you huffed.

“Close enough, I'm writing Fangs.”

“Oi, I didn't agree to that!”

“Too bad, I'm already writing it~”

“Okay, well if that's the stupid name I'm getting saddled with them I'm going to write it myself,” you said stubbornly. You actually didn't mind the name at all.

“Well that's it, then,” James said, “Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, and Fangs. We could join the bloody circus.”

“All we need is a group name,” you said, half joking.

“We've already got one,” James said proudly.

“Oh? Let's hear it, then.”

“The Marauders.”

“. . .”

You kept your face straight for exactly three seconds before you burst out laughing. The four boys flushed with embarrassment.

“The Marauders?” you chortled, “what are you, pirates?”

“It's what McGonnagall called us the first time we got ourselves into proper trouble,” James defended himself, his cheeks reddening, “You rowdy mob of marauders, she'd said.”

“Huh,” you chuckled, coming down from your laughing fit, “Well, then I suppose that would make this The Marauders Map. I'll admit, it actually kinda has a ring to it.”

And despite your group's joking quips and bickering, they couldn't agree more.

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

“Wait,” Harry said, eyes wide at your story, “So, my dad was an animagus too?”

“Sure was,” you smiled warmly.

“This whole time I thought 'Prongs' was just because his patronus was a stag.”

“Your animagus form is usually the same animal as your patronus,” you explained, “In some very rare cases they can be different, but they work in the same emotionally driven vein of magical ability, so it would make sense that they'd be linked. Your father was extraordinary at both, because as much as he would deny it, he felt everything very deeply.”

Your eyes drifted to the wall opposite you in the living room, and a small but sad smile graced your features.

“Love is often the most powerful emotion a witch or wizard can draw from,” you said softly, “but you already know that.”

Harry followed your gaze over his shoulder. There, posted on the wall among a collage of photographs from the Order was a picture of his mother and father. It was one he'd seen a hundred times, and one he had his own copy of: them in each others' arms in a London park, autumn leaves swirling around them as they danced without any music. Even from this distance he could see the emotion in their eyes as they looked at one another— like they were the only two people in the world.

“Yeah,” Harry said, wiping a stray tear from his eyes, “I do.”

Read chapter 7 here!

Taglist:  @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy @calaryssia @aleksanderwh0r3 @juggysgirlfriend @beautifulsweetschaos @kattirin @mialupin1

[missymurphy1985]

The Medic (Part 2)

Warning - injury / accident / bit of flirtiness

Authors Note - I'm not medically trained in the slightest - forgive me for any inaccuracies!!

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

You looked round, hoping to see him standing to the side, but no. He must've been under that rubble.. and the rigging...

You shouted for everyone to stay back to reduce the risk of any further collapse and slowly stepped onto the set, checking above you to make sure no more debris was going to drop. Once you were sure it was clear, you slowly edged onto the rubble, stepping where you could see the floor, careful not to dislodge anything.

"Cillian?! Cillian, can you hear me?" You called, hearing no response as your heart skipped a beat. You composed yourself and stood as still as possible, looking through the debris. You spotted his hand, sticking out from between the rigging.

You could just about make out his body, he wasn't moving. You could see his chest rising and falling, but the motion of it massively concerned you.

"Anto, call an ambulance - his breathing isn't right! Someone come help me move this stuff off him, slowly!" You called, not taking your eyes off him. His chest was moving up and down irregularly - all your years in A&E, you recognised a punctured lung when you saw one.

Three of the crew came over and following your strict instructions, they lifted each piece of ceiling off the pile, revealing more of Cillian's body. The movement and noise roused him, you saw his eyes flutter open.

"Cillian, do not move! Stay completely still until I've checked you over, say YES if you understand?"

"Y-yes...." He groaned, clearly in pain. Each item lifted caused him to cry out.

"Do not move..." You warned, making your way to him now a path had been cleared. Anto had brought your bag over and placed it at your side as you moved into Cillian's line of sight.

"An ambulance is on its way - you're fine, okay? I need you to tell me where it hurts."

"Chest... Right side..." He coughed and winced. You knew there was a small piece of rigging resting on his ribs and now you were closer you could see it had clearly broken his lower ribs.

"Breathing?"

"Can't.. get.. air..." He was struggling. Really struggling. You didn't have time to wait for the ambulance, he'd lose too much oxygen. Taking a deep breath, you took out a scalpel and plastic tube, along with bandages, a syringe and antiseptic spray.

"Cillian, I need to reinflate your lung. If I don't do it now, you'll suffocate. Paul, can you hold him still please?" Paul came over and you put his arms across Cillian's upper body.

"The... Fuck?" He gasped, seeing the scalpel in your hand.

"I need to do this. If I don't, you won't be able to breathe in around 2 minutes time... Trust me. I've done thousands of these.." You didn't give him time to argue. You injected a numbing agent into his side, and immediately sliced into the skin. He tried to scream but the sound didn't leave his lips, too breathless to make any noise. He struggled against Paul, and Anto came over to help pin him down. You ignored his whimpers as you inserted the tube, immediately feeling the rush of air escaping it. You inserted a syringe into the top of the tube and slowly pulled to release the air into it, closely monitoring how much came out so as not to pull too much.

Within minutes he took deeper breaths, his skin losing the blue tinge you'd noticed moments after arriving at his side. You removed the syringe but kept the tube in place, bandaging tightly around it. Your fingers moved to the back of his neck as you checked his spine.

"I need you to tell me if you feel any pain, or if you feel nothing. Okay?"

"Okay.."

You fingers moved down his neck, he confirmed he could feel it but no pain. You moved to his legs, the same response. At that moment, paramedics arrived.

You handed over to them, explaining what you'd done, and they took over as you stepped back. Your hands started to shake.

"Drink this..." Kate was next to you suddenly, handing you a cup of sweet tea. She wrapped her arm over you to comfort you as your whole body shook. "You're in shock, drink that. You'll be fine."

"I can't believe I just did that... I've never done one before!"

"I thought you said -"

"I lied, I didn't want to scare him.. I've only seen other doctors do them.. what if I've fucked it up?"

"y/n, he's breathing. You didn't fuck it up, I think you just saved his life! Shit me, y/n, have you seen your leg?" You looked down and saw blood - you must've caught your shin on a stray piece of rigging, a huge gash ran across it. Kate got to work checking it out, confirming you definitely needed stitches and let the paramedics know. They said you could jump in Cillian's ambulance.

Once you'd been stitched up, you asked the nurse about Cillian. She had left around ten minutes ago, promising to find out for you. Instead of the nurse coming back, it was a doctor. A doctor you knew from medical school, he'd been your teacher.

"Dr. Taylor?"

"I knew it was you when the paramedics told me! Y/n, you saved that man's life - he would have suffocated if you hadn't intervened when you did!" The relief flooded through you.

"I was so scared I'd done more damage... Is he going to be okay?"

"He's discharged himself - he just needs monitoring in fairness. Broken rib that will heal in time is the worst of it. He said you were the onset medic - can you take it from here?"

"Yes of course. I'll make sure he heals properly. Do you have any supplies?" He nodded and handed you a bag containing antibiotics, bandages and antiseptic lotions and creams.

"He's waiting outside for you. As soon as he found out you were here he refused to leave until you did." You smiled at his gesture. He must've been dying to get back to his hotel.

Heading into the family room, he was waiting. He looked exhausted, blood on his white shirt. Standing gently, he pulled you into a hug.

"Thank you. For what you did. Wouldn't be standing here with you now if you hadn't."

"Just doing my job."

"Don't be so modest. I owe you.."

"Well you can pay me back by taking this medication, resting for a few days and let me take care of you without giving me another death stare?" You smirked.

"Yeah.. it's not every day someone stabs you in the ribs!"

"All in the name of saving your ass Murphy!"

You got back to the hotel and followed Cillian to his room. He had to pause every so often to catch his breath and wince from the pain of his broken rib, to the point where you eased yourself under his arm and helped him across the hallway.

"Are you sure you should have left the hospital?"

"I hate hospitals, and I kinda hoped you'd take the reins."

"That's what I'm here for. Give me your room key." You took the key from him and opened the door, easing him through gently and sitting him slowly on the sofa.

"When can I get back to work?"

"You'll need a couple of days before your lung inflates back to full capacity, and your rib won't heal fully for weeks yet. I know you're on a tight schedule but I won't clear you for work for three days minimum Cillian." He rolled his eyes on frustration, slowly lying down on the sofa.

"Fuck..."

"I know, I'm sorry.. listen my room is just down the hall. Here's my mobile number. If you need me, just call okay?"

"You're going already?"

"You've taken your meds, all you need to do is rest now. Get some sleep if you can?"

"Fat chance of that, my ribs are on fire. They gave me paracetamol, like that's gonna do anything..."

"You allergic to anything?" He confirmed no, and you promised him you'd be back, quickly running to your room.

"Tramadol," you smiled, handing him one of the pills and a glass of water when you got back. "Only take one - it'll help you sleep. Come on, you need to be in bed."

He took the pill, and once it had kicked in a few minutes later he let you pull him up and lead him to his bed. His feet unsteady underneath him as the drug entered his system, you had to help him undress, chuckling slightly watching him attempt it himself.

"You look like a drunk old man!" You laughed, taking over from him and unbuttoning his trousers. Pushing them to the floor, his crotch in your immediate eyeline, you tried to remain professional - the temptation to look was too much though and you couldn't stop yourself stealing a small glance.

"Like what you see y/n?" He smirked, noticing your eyes widen and your cheeks flush. He wasn't even hard, but the outline was clear as day through his boxers - if he was that big soft, Jesus...

"What? Oh no, I uh..."

"No? Hmm. Might wanna tell your face." You looked away quickly, standing up to unbutton his shirt. Slowly easing it over his bruised shoulder, you couldn't help looking at his toned, hairless chest, the ripped muscles in his arms. You cleared your throat, and involuntarily bit your lip, you could feel your core throbbing and mentally scolded yourself.

"Look at me," he lifted your chin and your eyes met his.

"Once I'm healed, and able to move - I'll make it up to you my own way. Deal?"

"Your own way?" His hand caressed your cheek softly, eyes never leaving yours, as he gently leaned in to kiss you. As much as you tried to fight it, you couldn't, and you returned his kiss. You could tell he wanted to ignite things further, but the tramadol you'd given him was coursing through him, making his legs unsteady. You pulled away, easing him down into bed and pulled the covers over him. Quickly grabbing his mobile phone and putting it on his bedside table, along with the note with your phone number, you noticed he was out cold. You pressed your finger to your lips, a slight jump in your heartbeat at what had just happened, but remembering quickly that he was high as a kite on painkillers and wouldn't remember a thing come morning.

"But I'll remember, and that's enough for me," you thought out loud, smiled and headed out into the lounge area. You called Anto and updated him on what had happened.

"I'm gonna stay until he wakes up - Tramadol can have weird side effects, I'm going to keep my eye on him, if that's okay?" You asked, not wanting to annoy your boss on your first day.

"Y/n please - you're needed there more than here right now. Stay with him until he's healed up, we can film everything else while he's resting. Three days you say?"

"At least. I need to know his lung is back to normal before I can clear him for work again."

"Not a problem. His health comes first. Thank you for taking care of him y/n."

"Anytime. I'll keep you in the loop."

You hung up, and immediately heard him groaning. Knowing what was coming, you grabbed the washing up bowl and ran into his room just in time for him to throw up into it.

"Looks like I'm staying here until the Tramadol wears off at least..."

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Among Us: Crewmate Impulse getting an imposter voted out on a hunch, except this time the "hunch" is actually just Ghost Tango somehow yelling at him from the dead loud enough to influence his subconscious/code (this idea brought to you by: rewatching vods from before Tango got his compressor lol)

yeaaaa so this one is gonna have a LOT of caps in it lol i hope that’s okay. i’ll put a cw in the tags as well just in case

also i want to share the fact that this google doc is labelled “Tangy yell” lmfao

…

Impulse is standing at the upload panel when Tango enters admin to do his card swipe. The two exchange “hey”s at the entrance, before Tango heads over to stand at the admin table.

The last thing he sees before his vision goes black is the image of a figure popping out of the vent in the corner.

Tango sits bolt upright with a gasp. “Gaah! Skizz, what the hell?! That was the stupidest thing ever! Impulse is-!”

He breaks off as he spots Impulse turning away and leaving the upload panel without even turning to check the rest of the room.

“Hey,” says Joker, floating through the wall to join Tango in admin. “How’s it-.”

“Are you KIDDING me, Impulse?!”

Joker winces and covers his ears. “God, man… You need a compressor.”

“Impulse was RIGHT there!” Tango bellows, flinging his arms out towards his dead body over and over again. “He was standing FIVE FEET away from me! How did he not even notice I DIED?!”

“Tango!” Astro, who has just entered the room through the wall, yelps. “Inside voices, please!”

Crossing his arms, Tango floats furiously in the middle of the room, his upper half sticking out of the admin table, steaming so hard that he can almost feel actual steam rising off his transparent ghosty body.

“And I thought I was bad at noticing bodies,” grumbles Tango. “‘Least I’ve never had someone die five feet behind me and just left without checking if the person behind me two seconds ago is still alive. Stupid Impulse and stupid Skizz with his stupid face. I hate ‘em. I hate their stupid faces.”

“You might feel a bit better if you decided to do some tasks,” Astro says pointedly, finishing his upload. “So, you know, we have a chance of winning?”

“Don’t patronise me, Zoan.”

Just as Tango turns away, his dead body is finally reported. At the meeting, Tango has to just sit silently and watch as everyone discusses where they saw him last.

“I saw him in admin a minute or so ago,” Impulse reports. “But he was alive when I left.”

Astro winces, already knowing what’s coming.

“ARE YOU MOTHERFRICKING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW, IMPULSE?!”

Sure enough, Tango’s subsequent roar shatters the ghosts’ eardrums.

“YOU ONLY THINK I WAS ALIVE WHEN YOU LEFT BECAUSE YOU WERE- YOU DIDN’T- OH MY GOD, IMPULSE!” Tango face is as red as a tomato, the blood vessels sticking out of his neck despite being dead. “HOW CAN ONE PERSON BE SO UNOBSERVANT?! SKIZZ LITERALLY VENTED! INTO THE ROOM! AND KILLED ME! THEN VENTED OUT AGAIN! UNDER YOUR MOTHERFRICKING NOSE! AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN CHECK ON ME BEFORE YOU LEF-!”

Tango’s voice cracks and he breaks into a fit of coughing.

“Oh my GOD, Tango, you need to take it down like a billion notches!” Joker rubs his ears in pain. “Or get a compressor or something, dude! You’re giving me a headache and I’m DEAD.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” Tango lets out a prolonged funny noise, unable to do much else with his now sore throat. “Hate. Hate you all.”

“Stop talking before you lose your voice completely,” Astro says in a dad-like way. “You can get some water when we’re back in the lobby. Just take a moment to-.”

“Oh my god, guys, listen to the meeting,” interrupts Joker suddenly. “Listen!”

“-can’t explain why,” Impulse is saying. “I just think it’s Skizz. I mean, not only does he not have an alibi but also he says he just went into navigation, which has a vent leading from admin outside it.”

“Oh c’mon, that’s circumstantial,” retorts Skizz.

“I feel it in my bones, dude. I just have a hunch that it’s you.”

Astro turns to Tango with an impressed expression. “Dude, I think you yelled at him so loudly that your voice crossed the border between life and death.”

“Good,” croaks Tango hoarsely. “I hate him.”

“You know what, I’ll buy that,” Brody says in response to Impulse’s accusations. “I haven’t seen Skizz all game and he hasn’t really tried to be helpful at all lately, so I’ll vote him off, sure.”

“Oh come on!” Skizz snaps. “Really?”

Impulse nods. “Yup, cuz I know you’re the imposter.”

“As Tango would say: negative!”

“You said he only says that when he’s imposter.”

Skizz opens his mouth but apparently can’t find anything to say back to that.

Tango watches with a certain amount of satisfaction as Skizz is voted off the ship. With the sheriffing of Endless earlier in the game, the round ends and everyone is sent back to the lobby.

Tango immediately storms up to Skizz and glares at him. Skizz gives a chuckle as he gets up off the seat. “Hey, buddy. That was a really good kill, you gotta admit.”

All Tango can do in reply is glare at him.

“Tango lost his voice from screaming at you guys,” Astro explains with a grin.

“Wait, he can’t talk?” Skizz snorts. “That’s hilarious.”

His face twisted in a furious expression, Tango makes a wringing-neck hand movement at Skizz, who laughs and takes a step back. “Oh man, you’re REALLY mad.”

Nodding firmly, Tango turns to Impulse. He jabs his finger at his best friend, then draws it across his neck.

“Why’s he mad at ME?!” yelps Impulse.

“Because I vented into admin, killed him, and vented out again right under your nose,”Skizz snickers.

Impulse’s eyes widen. “No way…!”

“And you left the room without checking on him so you thought he was still alive when you left,” adds Astro. “As he kept saying. Or yelling, rather. Many times.”

“Ohhhhhhh noooooooo…!” Impulse gives his best friend an apologetic grimace. “I’m so sorry, Tango! I had no idea, man.”

Clearly still furious, Tango jabs his finger at him, then makes the same neck-wringing gesture at Impulse, before finally throwing his hands up in frustration.

“I, uh… I think we might need to take a break and get Tango some water,” Impulse says sheepishly.

Tango opens his mouth and dissolves into another fit of coughing.

“...and some cough drops.”

“I’m gonna have permanent hearing loss after that,” grumbles Joker, still rubbing his ears. “I swear to god, I’m not playing with you again until you get a compressor.”

Tango gives him an apologetic and slightly sheepish look.

“So wait, what exactly happened there?” asks Etho suddenly. “Impulse, you had no information and then suddenly you were saying it was Skizz. What happened there?”

“I literally heard Tango’s voice in my ear,” Impulse explains. “It sounded like he was yelling and I didn’t hear full sentences, only bits and pieces. I heard “Skizz”, “kill”, and “vent”. So I put two and two together.”

“Your voice was so strong that it broke through the beyond and reached the realm of the living,” Skizz snickers. “I can’t even be mad about that; that’s pretty awesome. But bro. Joker’s right; you desperately need a compressor.”

Tango rolls his eyes, wishing his friends would stop saying that.

“Anyway, let’s take five and meet back here after,” says Impulse. “Tango, let’s get you some water.”

Etho watches the two of them leave the lobby together, before sitting down on the floor and leaning his head back against the wall. He doesn’t know how it’s possible that Tango managed to get through to Impulse despite being separated by death, but he does know that this can’t be good. There’s a reason the living can’t hear the dead.

Or maybe he’s just thinking too hard about it. If there’s anyone out there who can yell loud enough to make someone who shouldn’t be able to hear him hear him, it’s TangoTek.

Maybe they really do need to get him that compressor.

[justnerdthings]

Frigid Heart Ch. 2

F!Reader x Bi-Han

Seems Bi-Han may be a rule breaker.

@miss-nori85 @whitelotusfighter @icy-spicy @crazytxgradstudent @d-taslim @bihansthot @legends-of-apex @lillikue @missroro

idk if I tagged everyone who wanted to be tagged, let me know if I missed you! And thanks for liking my awful writing. >w<

You had always been an early riser. And given how stressful yesterday had been, you were surprised you’d managed to get up so early. The sun hadn’t even come up yet. You imagined no one was awake at this hour… But that was foolish thinking. Of course someone was up. The Lin Kuei village had to be guarded against enemy attack, ready at a moment’s notice.

Sub-Zero was still asleep as you moved around his home quietly. You could hear his light snoring even from the kitchen. As long as you could hear that, you knew you were being silent enough. The stew from last night had been left on the hearth, steeping over night. You gave it a good stir and added some water before helping yourself to a small bowl of it. Once your bowl was empty, you promptly washed it out and put it away. Another pot, full with tea was in the hearth. You helped yourself to some of that as well. You cleaned the cup. After a quick trip to the outhouse it was time to start your day.

You’d learned where most things were the day before, but everything looked different in the dark. You carried a lantern with you as you moved about outside. The idea of running away still fluttered through your head, but Lily’s words followed close behind. There was nothing close by. You’d freeze out there. As much as your old masters would have preferred that you’d run, or simply kill yourself instead of being captured by the Lin Kuei, you didn’t much feel like freezing to death. Besides, so far, the Lin Kuei weren’t so bad. None of the other servants up at this hour seemed to notice you as you collected water from a nearby well. Assassins assigned night watch had, though. You could feel their eyes on you as you carried the bucket of water back to Sub-Zero’s house. You dumped the water into a large pot and went back to the well for more water. Once the pot was full, you used a small stick to catch the flame from your lantern and light the fire pit under the pot.

Sub-Zero had a lot of laundry. You wondered when he’d last had his clothing cleaned. Who had done it? You doubted he would have as you scrubbed at stubborn blood stains. You’d piled the clean clothes up in a basket before taking them inside to hang by the hearth. The heat would dry them faster. And they wouldn’t freeze. Eventually you’d run out of room to hang clothing and opted to stop for now. There were plenty of other things to do.

“You.”

You blinked and looked up from scrubbing the floor to see Sub-Zero looking down at you. You straighten up on your knees. “Yes, Master?”

“Where did you learn to fight?” He asked you. He’d been wondering ever since he’d saw you fend off some assassins.

You bowed your head, looking down at the floor. “Servants are taught to defend their masters in my clan— You stopped yourself. That was not your clan anymore. “In the Snow Ninja clan,” you corrected.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched you. They taught their servants to fight? That was either foolish, or genius. He wasn’t sure which just yet. He supposed if the servant was undoubtedly loyal, it was smart… And you had been. You might still be. No matter, he had beaten you before with little effort, he would have no trouble doing it again. “Get up. Follow me,” he ordered and turned to walk away.

You rose and dusted your hanfu off before hurrying after him. The sun was high. He led you outside, close to the treeline, still very much out in the open. “Take your stance,” he ordered. Your brows bunched as you looked at him, your hands neatly folded into the flowing sleeves of your hanfu. But seeing his eyes take a sharp look, you slowly took your stance, a basic Mantis stance.

Sub-Zero took his own stance, much more confidently, an aggressive energy emanating from him. Fighting him last time didn’t go so well. You knew this one wasn’t going to end up much better.

He came at you first. You backed up, not bothering to hide the fear on your face as you dodged his first strike. Dodging only got you so far. It wasn’t long before his palm slammed into your chest.

The wind was knocked out of you. You backed away against a tree and held your chest as you tried to catch your breath. He was grinning at you. “You should have spent more time cleaning. You’re not going to survive a real fight,” he told you.

Your jaw clenched. You knew that. You knew you weren’t the best fighter. Your eyes shifted to the ground.

“Come on,” he said, taking a stance again. You watched him curiously. What was he doing? Was he trying to humiliate you in front of the entire village? You glanced over to see a few assassins had taken notice. Your face grew hot and you shook your head to Bi-Han.

“Ignore them.”

“It is not my place to fight you, Master,” You said sheepishly, rubbing at the center bone of your chest.

“I’ll let you know where your place is. Now ready yourself,” he told you. He wasn’t taking no for an answer. Why would he? He was your master.

Reluctantly you pushed yourself away from the tree and took your stance again. He came at you. You dodged. Dodged. Dodged. Then you decided to block. You’d managed to catch his fist and shove it away. You backed up. He recovered flawlessly and spun with a kick aimed for your head. You barely had time to react. You instinctively ducked, then striked.

Bi-Han caught your hand before it could reach his throat. His strong grip twisted your arm, causing you to cry out before he tossed you to the ground.

You grunted as you hit the frozen ground.

“Better,” he said. “But where is that furiosity I saw only a few days ago?”

You didn’t have an answer for him as you pushed yourself back up to your feet. The confidence you had before was when you had a chance of getting away alive. Here… There was no hope for escape. Even if you had managed to defeat him, there were at least a hundred more assassins that would come after you. You weren’t that good.

“Again,” Bi-Han said. You huffed in frustration. He was just too fast. He was too good. His brows rose expectantly as you stared at him. Defeated, you readied again. “Come at me,” he ordered, switching it up. Maybe you were better on the offensive.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you watched him, as your eyes scanned over him, looking for any sign of weakness… Nothing jumped out at you. Either he had no weakness, or he was exceptional at hiding them. You shifted into an offensive stance, opposite his defensive one.

What came from you was a flurry of strikes, high and low. Bi-Han was calculating each move you made, dodging and blocking beautifully as you desperately tried to land a hit. Frustration was building within you again. But that was exactly what Bi-Han wanted. He wanted you angry. He wanted your full focus. He wanted you to fight him.

As experienced as Bi-Han was, it was no surprise that he was able to see every strike just before you made it. However, he didn’t expect you to suddenly switch your style. A delightful surprise. He caught your foot as you kicked it straight up for his chin.

Your eyes flinched as he held you like that, leg high in the air. He was mildly surprised at your flexibility and grinned, admiring the view. Seeing his smirk, your face grew hot. It wasn’t exactly new. Your old masters had given you similar looks… But it didn’t mean you liked it. Bi-Han’s brows knotted as he noticed a silent rage come to your face. You let your supporting leg give out from under you. You dropped. The sudden dead weight caused Bi-Han to jerk forward just as you caught yourself. Supporting yourself on your hands, you pushed your lower half up and drove your heel right into his chest.

A grunt escaped him from the impact and he dropped your leg. You then flung yourself up with a backflip. You were back on your feet and in stance again as you watched him.

Bi-Han chuckled as he straightened up and rubbed at his chest. A few strained coughs escaped him. He wasn’t sure what kind of move that was, but he liked it. He was sure you didn’t only fight with what you were taught. You improvised. A sign of a warrior. Perhaps in a past life you’d been just that. He nodded, more to himself. “Interesting,” he said as he stepped away.

You watched him cautiously as he walked to the closest assassin that had been watching. He held his hand out to the man. “Give me your blade.” The assassin looked confused, but obliged in unsheathing his sword and handing it over. Your caution grew as he turned and walked back towards you. Your jaw stiffened as your heart beat faster. He was going to kill you, wasn’t he? This was it. You’d hit him, now you were going to be killed!

You flinched away as he stepped in front of you, awaiting the inevitable…

Which didn’t come.

Confused, you peeked up to see him holding the sword out to you, offering it.

“Hey, don’t give her my sword!” the blade’s owner called over.

“Be quiet!” Bi-Han shouted, not looking back at the man.

“Are you sure that’s wise, Sub-Zero?” Tundra questioned, stepping forward.

“Wise? No. But it should prove interesting,” Bi-Han answered and gave the blade a little shake, as if to tell you to hurry up and take it.

Your hand shook as you reached for it, expecting him to slice your hand off just before your fingers could graze against the handle. But he didn’t. He let you take the blade and stepped back a few paces as a sword of his own grew from his hand. You watched in amazement. Was that… ice? Was that why he was called Sub-Zero?

“Have you ever wielded a blade?” Bi-Han asked.

You nodded, peeling your eyes away from his ice sword and to his face. Your grip tightened on your borrowed sword.

“Good,” was all he said before shifting into a new stance. You followed with your own.

Your swordsmanship paled in comparison to his. But with weapons now involved, you had more motivation to give him everything you had. Your blades clashed together as you two fought. For ice, his sword was incredibly durable. Your steel blade wasn’t leaving any marks on it as they collided over and over.

But you were quickly growing tired. You didn’t have the same level of endurance Bi-Han had. In one last burst of energy, you kicked for his arm. As his focus shifted to your foot and he twisted to catch it in his free hand, you sliced your blade up at his face.

A hiss escaped him as he backed away, free hand moving to cover his cheek. His fingers were painted in blood as he pulled his hand away. You froze, your eyes wide at the sight. You didn't mean to do that… did you?

The assassin known as Tundra had begun to move forward and grow his own blade. You dropped yours and quickly backed away from it in fear.

Bi-Han glanced up to see his brother moving for you. His ice blade crumbled to the ground as he lifted his clean hand up, signalling for Kuai to stop. Tundra obeyed, but his hand held a similar sword of ice as he watched you cautiously. His eyes peeled away from you when he heard his brother begin to laugh.

“You’re full of surprises,” Bi-han said, impressed with you, watching as you cowered. He used his sleeve to wipe the trickling blood from his cheek as a smug grin stayed plastered to his face.

“What is going on out here?!” Lily’s voice shouted over. The older woman stopped in her tracks when she saw Bi-Han’s face, cheek sliced open. Her eyes scanned the assassins and servants that had gathered. One servant pointed. Lily followed the gesture to see you, shaking, sword at your feet. “You!” Lily made to go after you, but was stopped by Bi-Han stepping in the way.

Lily’s brows knotted up at him. “How did she get a sword?!”

“I handed it to her,” Bi-Han simply said. “I wanted to see what she could do.”

“You handed her a weapon?!” Lily said in disbelief.

“I did.” Bi-Han turned and moved towards you. He stopped at the blade and picked it up with a bit of flourish. He smirked and flipped it, catching the blade and holding the handle out to you. He made sure that old nag, Lily, saw it.

Lily’s face grew red. She was absolutely flustered. The idea of you wielding a Lin Kuei sword… You, a regular servant, and not even one proven loyal. “The Grandmaster will hear of this,” she told him before turning to storm off back to the palace.

“Brother—” Kuai began, but was cut off with a glare from Bi-Han.

“Let her tell him. This is my servant, isn’t she? Mine to do with as I please?”

“Yes, but—”

Bi-Han grew his ice blade again and pointed it at you as he stepped back. “Again.”

Kuai sighed as he watched you hesitantly take a stance. What the hell was Bi-Han doing...

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ starting prompt: “the guy who wins your heart will be so lucky.” 

♡ pairing: Tim Drake (Red Robin) & fem reader

♡ lyric inspiration: “I will take your pain and put it on my heart. I won’t hesitate, just tell me where to start.” / not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes. 

“she’s drunk, isn’t she?” Barbara asked, looking at you empathetically, “again?” Dick replied, shaking his head. you were in the corner of the living room, wine bottle in your hand, and singing to whatever was playing, “she caught her ex cheating on her...again,” Barbara explained.

Dick sighed, seeing the clear pain on your face. you were dancing and singing with a smile plastered on your face but the pain you were trying to hide was still evident in your eyes. this had been the third time someone you were dating had done something to make you break up with them and everyone was being honest, they were ready to find your ex and tell them a thing or two. 

“that’s really upsetting,” Dick mentioned, “she really liked him too. wherever she’s finding these guys to date, she needs to stop, and realize that the one she should be dating is in front of her eyes.”

the two of them looked to Tim, who was off in his was off in his own space, doing work for the Bat. Barbara gave him a hearty laugh, “yeah right!” she exclaimed, “the day Tim tells her how he feels is the day Damian thanks one of us for saving him.” Dick looked at her before hesitantly agreeing. 

you walked towards the two, a drunk smile on your face. Dick grabbed the unopened wine bottle and hid it behind his back, “where’s the red wine I had here?” you asked, a pout on your face. Barbara gave Dick a quick look, “you finished it, sweetheart,” she informed, “the last bottle you bought is on the floor by the couch.” 

you growled, giving a stink face, “this sucks. I’m still not drunk and still have thoughts of that IDIOT in my head...I need to find more alcohol,” you said with sudden determination, “do you think your dad has any?” you asked rhetorically. 

Dick and Barbara went wide eyed as they saw you speeding towards the stairs, “TIM GRAB HER!” Dick screamed. Tim whipped his head up, seeing as you nearly out of the batcave and scrambled to get you. 

you were on the second step when he grabbed you by the waist and hurled you into his arms, “come on ( your name ), you don’t need to be drinking anymore,” he whispered in your ear. you gave your best friend a sad pout, “please?” you you asked with your lip sticking out. Tim shook his head no as you sighed in defeat. 

“it’s like everyone can see they’re in love except for them!” Barbara exclaimed, running her hands through her hair, “when they’re not doing hero work, they collectively share one brain cell,” Damian replied as he and the Kent kid walked into the lair. 

your smile widened, seeing your favorite sidekick walk in, “DAMIAN!” you yelled, running to him with wide arms. he immediately ran away from you but with the speed of your legs, you managed to catch him easily enough, “what is wrong with her?” he yelled, trying to pry himself away from you. 

Tim, Dick, Barbara, and Jon laughed as you continued to hug him while he struggled to get away, “Damian, you know you love it!” you said happily. he gave his brother a look for help, “what is wrong with her!” he yelled again, finally escaping his arms. 

the three adults looked at each other as Tim spoke up, “she’s going through a rough time right now,” was all he managed to say as Damian scoffed, “what? did she go through another break up or something?” he said, not realizing your sudden change of expression. 

you looked at the wall emotionless. Tim and Dick gave their brother a death stare as Jon walked up to you and wrapped his arm around you, “hey, it’s okay! there’s other people out there!” he tried to comfort you. 

hearing Jon’s words, you felt tears brimming your eyes as you gave the Kent a tight hug, “really?” you slurred. Jon gave Tim a desperate look as he grabbed you and pulled your arm around him, “lets get you to bed? even though it’s noon?” he laughed, pulling you and himself to his bedroom. 

“I swear that idiot is never going to confess his feelings for her, is he?” Damian asked his older brother as he agreed. 

+

a few days had passed since you had gotten drunk at the Wayne manor. you were still a bit upset at the break up but more than anything, you were sad about not having anyone to come home and talk to after your work shifts. 

you had never gotten far enough in a relationship where you had to admit what you did on the side but you would still come home beat from your ‘day’ job. you had been living alone the minute you turned eighteen as your parents refused to accept what you did with your free time. 

being a superhero and helping out Batman when you had the chance was something you prided yourself on but your parents found it a waste of time as you had dropped going to college to help the bat out. you didn’t have any special powers, much like the rest of the Wayne family but your skills on the field made up for it regardless. 

you saw your beeper going off indicating that either Dick or Bruce himself wanted to speak to you. you picked it up, showing that you were available to speak when the small screen showed up. 

“afternoon ( your name ), you available to patrol tonight?” Dick asked, showing you the schedule for this weeks patrol. you looked it over, realizing you were able to pick up a few rounds, “yeah, I can do tonight, Wednesday, and Friday night!” you replied. 

Dick smiled, “great to hear that! you’ll be doing rounds with Tim and Garfield,” he informed you. you nodded excitedly, “how you holding up?” he asked, trying to hint at your situation, “fine, I think? still stings but trying to get myself out there again,” you muttered, releasing a heavy sigh, 

he remained silent for a bit but decided to bite back on his words, “ah, I’m sure you’ll find someone who’s worth your time soon enough. we’re here if you need anyone to talk to!” Dick said before departing and ending the call. 

you slumped yourself on the couch and tried to get your mind off your ex boyfriend. this had been your third try at a relationship and every single time, every single one of them had done something to ruin it. the first one had completely ghosted you. the second one had broken up with you after he finally got laid, and the your last relationship ended because he had cheated on you. 

you had mentioned the start of your relationships to the Wayne’s so they knew where you would run off to when you weren’t busy with work or hero work. despite keeping your relationship on the down low, each of them always crawled up to your door, apologizing profusely for what they did and you were able to tell that one of them were the reasons why. 

the crying session you would usually have after a break up had yet to happen but you knew that it was bound to happen eventually. the crying after the break up always felt like the biggest wave of relief and you knew that was the last thing you had to cross off your list before fully moving on. 

you ended up taking a nap on the couch, not realizing you were about to be to patrol as you bolted out of the blanket and ran to put on your uniform. the uniform was a bit tight on your body so it felt like it took your forty years to slip on but soon enough, you made your way to your starting destination. 

Tim was already on the top of the roof, leaning against his bo-staff as you hurled onto the roof. you gave him a smile, standing next to him, “how are you feeling?” he asked, as the two of you sat on the ledge of the building. 

you shrugged, knowing if you spoke, you would end up crying, “fine,” you replied, trying not to speak any farther. Tim could see the hurt in your eyes and remained silent the rest of the time. 

it was almost the end of the patrolling session when you had caught a stupid thug trying to steal the purse off of a man. you immediately swooped down from the building, standing behind the thug and kicking him from behind the leg as Tim escorted the man to his car. 

you stared at the thug with disgust, “you should really learn your lesson to not be stealing from others,” you spat, kicking him in the rib cage again. Tim watched as he saw your eyes light up with pure rage, “maybe the next time you decide to be this much of a low life, you’ll end up in grave,” you continued. 

you had blown a couple of punches to the thug as he was starting to cough up blood. Tim immediately ran to you and held you up as the man scrambled up and tried to run away as fast as possible. “calm down!” Tim yelled, holding you against his chest and restricting your arms. 

the tears had finally came down your face as sobs racked your body as you moved yourself to cry into Tim’s chest. the lucky part in all of that was that you were in a darkened alley so no one was able to tell who was being a hysterical drama queen. 

“it’s okay, you’re okay,” Tim soothed, rubbing your back softly. you hid your face against his chest, “why is it always me?” you screamed, “I’m a great person and have done nothing to deserve what I’ve gotten!” you managed to say, 

Tim nodded understandingly. 

“I know,” he replied, “but the guy who wins your heart will be so lucky,” he whispered. you looked up to him with teary eyes, “really?” you asked. Tim nodded, “I know it. the next person who ends up with you will be the one. I promise you,” he stated.

you stared at him, confused, “how do you know?” Tim sighed, knowing he might as well rip off his confession like a band-aid, “because I was hoping I could be the next person to take you out on a date,” he finally confessed.

the air was deadly silent as you fixed your eyes on his face. you tried to respond but no words were falling from your lips. Tim felt his heart fall into his stomach as he realized he might’ve ruined your entire friendship with him with his stupid little confession. 

“Tim...Tim, look at me.” you grabbed his chin and made him stare at you, “Tim, do you like me?” you asked, trying to read his expression. 

Tim nodded as you smiled at his sudden flustered look, “listen, I don’t know how to feel about this but I know there’s something there for you. how about in a few weeks, the two of us can go out on a date to a museum or something?” you grabbed his hand softly. 

the two of you looked at each other as Tim wiped the stray tears off your face and nodded, “of course. name a time and day and I’ll be there!” he said. before you respond, you heard both of your beepers going off indicating that your patrol time was over. 

“I’ll definitely let you know.” 

that was all you managed to say before grabbing your grappling hook and swinging away into the night, leaving a shy and flustered Tim in the alleyway. 

[ughseoks]

asterismos ⋆ 4

PAIRING; jungkook x reader

GENRE; angst, fluff, eventual smut / enemies to lovers / fantasy au

RATING; 18+

WORD COUNT; 4k

WARNINGS; swearing, weapons, blood, injury, fighting, ~magic~

SUMMARY; As far as you’re concerned, things like magic, prophecies, and fate are nothing more than fairytales. But when you accidentally bind your soul to a mysterious amulet you found at an antique shop, a group of seven warriors from a magical world inform you that you now hold the key to saving them all. The fate of the realm Elodia now rests in your hands, and you realize that you couldn’t have been more wrong.

「 prev.   |   masterlist   |   next 」

— banner created by the most talented human ever aka @kimtaehyunq​​ 🥺

Author’s note at the end!

“You know she’ll never join you, right?”

The man scoffs at the statement coming from the Elodian collapsed on the ground behind the metal bars of the cell. “You shouldn’t speak of things you know nothing about. I know that she’ll choose the right side; she’s my sister.”

The Elodian in the cell’s returning smile is a broken one. “Your time away from Earth has caused a rift to form between the two of you. She doesn’t even think you’re alive.” He stops to cough, the sound grating against the other man’s ears. “But beyond that, she’s no longer the little girl you once knew. Unlike you, she didn’t grow into a person driven by hatred and revenge. No matter what her relation to you is, she would never turn her back on innocent people. Your father holds no power over her decisions—although I’m afraid I can’t same the same about you.”

“Don’t you dare speak of my father in that way.” A wild look dances in the man’s eyes as he takes a few steps towards the occupied cell. “He was a man with a vision. You and the rest of the world were—and still are—too blinded by your foolish ideas to see it.”

The man behind bars smirks. “Those are bold words coming from someone who’s only half Elodian.”

An angry roar escapes the taller man as he thrusts his fist into the rocky wall beside him, a sickening crunch resounding in the small chamber upon impact. He lets out a small grunt of pain and allows his arm to drop back to his side. A soft blue light begins to emit from the wound, the broken skin and bone expertly weaving itself back together. When the glowing finally stops and all that’s left on his skin is dried blood, a tense sigh escapes the man’s lips, the angry glint in his eye giving away just how unstable he is despite his calm exterior.

“You were a fool for giving her the amulet. I know that she’ll choose my side in the end.” He turns to exit the dark room, only pausing to throw a final comment over his shoulder. “The glamour you placed on her is wearing off. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Which one…” you trail off, your eyes scanning the various weapons laid out before you, “Which one should I, uh, try first?”

Seokjin shrugs. “Whichever you want to, Y/N. You’ll know when you pick the right one.”

You nod slowly and continue to gaze at the various sharp, slicey, and spiky things being presented to you. The boys are peeking over your shoulder, and as much as you need their guidance for this, you also feel a bit overwhelmed with the amount of pressure on you. What if you make a fool of yourself trying to wave around Namjoon’s enormous greatsword? What if you accidentally shoot yourself in the foot with Hoseok’s bow?

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when Taehyung lays a large hand on your shoulder. “I know that this all feels a little overwhelming, but you don’t have to be embarrassed or worried about your lack of training, alright? We’re here to help you.” His voice is soft and soothing, and you find yourself feeling a little  more confident with his gentle encouragement.

You nod and take a deep breath before stepping forward to pick up a small throwing knife. Taehyung grins at your choice, stepping forward to demonstrate how to use them. You attempt to copy his expertly executed movements, but the knives all end up scattered across the ground rather than stuck in a tree.

“At least they didn’t end up stuck in any of us,” Taehyung jokes and ruffles your hair.

Slowly but surely, you make your way through every option until you’re left with Jungkook’s weapon—a broadsword.

None of the weapons have really clicked with you so far. Although you feel a little bit like you’re living out one of your childhood fantasies when you swing the various swords and knives around your body, none of them feel quite right in your gentle hands. The weight of them resting in your palm is foreign, and despite your best efforts, you just can’t seem to find a weapon that works with you.

When you raise the (almost comically) long sword into the air to test it out, you note that you can feel Jungkook’s presence from where he stands only a few feet away. Chancing a glance over at him, you’re surprised to see that instead of the irritated or exasperated expression you were expecting, he’s wearing a look that almost seems interested.

With a determined huff, you attempt to swing the sword in a wide arc, only to fall onto your behind when the unexpected weight knocks you off balance.

“It’s useless,” you sigh and hand the sword over to Jungkook with a downcast gaze, “The human in me just… cancels out the ‘warrior’ part of being Elodian, I guess.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Hoseok interrupts, “That isn’t necessarily true, Y/N. There’s still something we haven’t tried.”

“If it’s another weapon, it probably won’t end well,” you pout. “I think it’s pretty clear that big, sharp, pointy things aren’t really my specialty.”

“They aren’t mine either.”

You turn to look at Jimin. He’s standing a few feet away with his arms crossed against his chest, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. When your brows furrow in confusion, he drops them to his sides with a chuckle, taking a few steps forward to close the distance between the two of you.

“I never had an affinity for ‘big, sharp, pointy things’ when I was training to be a warrior,” he explains. You don’t appreciate his usage of air quotes around the former part of his sentence. “That’s why I turned to magic. It came way more naturally to me than physical weapons ever did. You might be the same way, Y/N.”

“Y-You think I could be a magic user? Even though I’m only half Elodian?”

Jimin shrugs. “We won’t know until we try. Here, give me your hand.”

Jimin’s fingertips are soft against your skin, the palm of his hand pressed to the back of yours. He crouches on the ground and guides your hand so it’s resting on the green grass below. Despite being warmed by the sun, the grass is still slightly damp from the morning dew, the small droplets wetting your fingertips where they press against the soft blades.

“Close your eyes,” Jimin murmurs from beside you, shifting his hand so his fingers are nestled between yours as you follow his instructions. The grass pokes at the palm of your hand from where it sticks out of the cool soil, and if you weren’t holding your breath in anticipation of what Jimin is about to do, you might’ve giggled at the ticklish sensation.

“I want you to picture a flower. It can be any kind you want; just make sure you stick with the one you choose.” He pauses for a moment to let you decide before speaking again. “Have you chosen?” You nod. “Okay. Now, I want you to create a clear picture of that flower in your mind. Be as detailed as possible, like you’re looking at the real thing right in front of you.”

Your eyelids flutter closed as you follow his instructions, your brow knit in concentration. Jimin’s hand is warm on top of yours, and as the image of the flower in your mind grows clearer, the heat from his hand grows warmer along with it. Tingles of warmth climb up your arm all the way to your shoulder, your heart rate increasing as the sensation grows stronger.

After a few seconds, the feeling of the grass on the underside of your palm begins to increase from a light tickle to a steady pressure—it takes you a moment to realize that it feels like something is growing beneath your hand.

When the pressure ceases, Jimin retracts his hand from yours, allowing you to pull your own hand away once your eyes are open again with a gasp.

“Did I…” you trail off as you stare at the beautiful tiger lily sticking out of the ground where your hand once was. The vibrant orange hues of the petals are just as bright as you imagined them—brighter than any tiger lily you’ve ever seen in real life. “Did I do that?”

Jimin nods whilst smiling proudly.

You gulp, “I… but you helped me, didn’t you? When your hand was on top of mine.”

“Here in Elodia, our full powers and connection to the magical realm must be ‘awakened’ by a magic user,” Hoseok speaks up, “Jimin awakened yours.”

“All I did was teach your body how to tap into its magical abilities,” Jimin smiles, “The rest of it was all you.”

“Woah…” You trail off and reach out a hand to touch the flower. The petals are soft against your fingertips—and surprisingly warm, too.

“Jungkook, wasn’t your awakening flower a tiger lily too?” You hear Taehyung speak up from beside you, a knowing smirk lighting up his face.

“Yes.” If the blush on his cheeks means anything, Jungkook seems uncomfortable with Taehyung’s line of questioning.

“You know what they say about matching awakening flowers…” The blue-haired man trails off meaningfully as Jungkook shoots him a glare.

“Shut up, Tae.” Jungkook growls the command, but there’s no real malice behind it, and Taehyung simply snickers in response.

“What are awakening flowers?” You pipe up from your spot on the ground below. In all honesty, you’re starting to feel a little bad about asking so many questions all of the time—but you’re in a totally different realm where magic exists. You’re bound to have at least a few questions.

“They’re the first flower that an Elodian grows during their magical awakening,” Namjoon supplies helpfully. “Taehyung was referring to the popular belief that having identical awakening flowers is a sign of being each other’s Bonded.”

Jungkook is blushing furiously now, his gaze trained on the ground at his feet. You don’t blame him—you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as well.

“It’s just a myth, though,” Seokjin reassures you before placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Lots of people have similar awakening flowers. No need to worry about being Bonded with grumpy over there.”

“Hey! I am not grumpy, hyung—”

“Yes, you are.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Are you two going to keep arguing?” Yoongi interjects with a sigh, “Or can we get on with saving Elodia?” Jin stifles a chuckle at the angry look on Jungkook’s face, only to let out a yelp when the youngest juts out an arm to elbow him in the stomach.

“Anyways,” Jimin smiles at you, “I think that you have a lot of potential. I would love to train you and teach you how to use your magic to its full extent—that is, if you want me to.”

“I…” you trail off, unexpectedly strong emotions bubbling up in your throat.

Maybe it’s because for the first time since you’ve arrived in Elodia, you feel as if you just might belong here.

“I would love to train with you, Jimin.” You get a little choked up at the end of your sentence. Jimin’s gaze softens, and the amount of love that you see sparkling in his deep brown eyes is enough to open the floodgates.

Tears begin to slip down your cheeks, the salty droplets leaving streaks as they fall relentlessly. You do your best to wipe them as they fall, but it’s of no use—they’ve already seen your tears, and you’re too emotional to keep them at bay.

“I just…” you sniffle, “The entire time I’ve been here, I’ve felt like a burden. Like I’ve been holding you back and somehow preventing you from completing the mission. But now—now I feel like… like I can finally do something to help other than just... stay out of the way.”

Jimin nods in understanding. “You’re not useless, Y/N, even though you often believe yourself to be.”

“Thank you.” Your voice is barely a whisper, but you know they hear it anyways.

“So, Jimin will work with you on your magic skills,” Namjoon speaks up after a few moments of silence, “And those will most definitely prove useful in our journey, I have no doubt. However,” he sighs, “I believe that there is still the matter of your lack of hand to hand combat skills—which will inevitably be crucial to your survival at some point in the future.”

You nod. “Can’t Jimin just help me with that as well? Since he’ll already be teaching me magic.”

“I don’t think I’m the best suited to teach you,” Jimin frowns. “Although I can most definitely defend myself, I’m not the person you should be learning from—especially considering that we have such little time to prepare you for what’s to come.”

“Jungkook can teach her.”

You turn to face Seokjin fast enough to feel a twinge of pain in your neck. But before you can say anything, Taehyung is already speaking up.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Seokjin?”

You flinch, expecting Jungkook to scoff. But he never does. Instead, he looks ashamed, gaze downcast as he clears his throat nervously.

“What happened last time… it won’t happen again.” He lifts his head to lock gazes with Seokjin, a hard look of determination set on his face. “I promise.”

“Y-You really don’t have to if you don’t want to—”

“Nobody is forcing him to help, Y/N,” Seokjin cuts you off with a reassuring smile, “He volunteered.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook is looking everywhere except you, the tips of his ears tinged red. You have to fight to keep from staring at him in shock.

“Shouldn’t she have her own blade?”

Your attention is pulled away from Jungkook at Yoongi’s question-comment, a curious look in your eyes. “Am I even allowed to have one? Aren’t they only given to warriors?”

“You are a warrior,” Hoseok smiles, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Sure, you need a little training, but the mentality of a warrior is what’s most important—and you have far more courage than you seem to know.”

What the hell is with these insanely attractive men complimenting you? You swear, you’re going to have a heart attack one of these days.

“It’s not that I disagree,” Namjoon interjects, “But where are we even going to find her a blade? They’re normally gifted during our warrior officiation ceremonies, and

“I have one she can bond with!”

Namjoon turns to Taehyung in shock, his look of disbelief mirrored on the other six Elodians in the group. “Taehyung! That—That’s illegal! Why the hell do you have a spare sacred blade?”

Taehyung shrugs. “Someone dared me to steal it a few years ago, so I did. I’ve been holding onto it since in case of an emergency like this.”

“You stole a sacred blade because of a dare?” Namjoon balks. “You could be stripped of your title as a warrior!”

“It was a triple dog dare! I couldn’t just chicken out!” Taehyung defends, “Plus, it came in handy, didn’t it?”

Namjoon lets out a heavy sigh. “I can’t believe you. We’re going to have a serious talk sometime about who you choose to hang out with.”

“Okay, first of all, you’re not my dad. Second of all, Jungkook was the one who dared me to steal it, so why isn’t he the one getting in trouble?”

Jungkook makes a noise of protest when Namjoon’s sharp eyes land on him. “I was only kidding when I said it! I swear.”

“Liar,” Taehyung pouts, yelping when Jungkook gives him a harsh shove.

“Anyways,” Yoongi interrupts, a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips, “Since Taehyung is conveniently in possession of a highly sacred blade, you can simply bond with it and use it as your own.”

“Bond with it?” You question, “How do I do that?”

“I’ll show you,” Jimin smiles, “Don’t worry; it’s really not that complicated. I’ll explain more tonight when you’re about to bond with it. Okay?”

You nod, and Seokjin reaches out to give your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Half-Elodian or not, you’re going to become a true warrior tonight, Y/N. Be proud.”

“Jimin. Could you be any more vague?” You mutter in frustration, “I know literally nothing about magic and sacred blades and Elodian sparkles and shit. You’re gonna have to be more specific than telling me to ‘let the blade take control’. Like, what does that even mean?”

Jimin raises an eyebrow at you as you continue to speak, mouth quirking up at the corner when you end your small speech with a frustrated huff. “I’m sorry that I can’t give you more concrete instructions, Y/N. But I’m telling the truth when I say that the blade will do most of the work for you, and this experience is different for everyone. It’s deeply intimate; the sacred blade is making a connection with your soul. I can’t tell you how your bond with it will form, only give you what I hope is helpful advice.”

You groan, dragging the palm of your hand across your face tiredly. “Sorry. I’m just… I’m nervous, I guess. What if I do it wrong?”

“It’ll be alright, I promise. Just the blade—and trust yourself. You’re part Elodian; I know you have it in you.” He reaches up to give your cheek a gentle pinch before taking a few steps back. “I’ll leave you to it. You may feel emotional when the bond is formed, and that’s completely normal. Just shout if something goes wrong, alright?”

“O-Okay. Thank you, Jimin,” you smile, eyes never leaving his back until he disappears from your vision altogether behind the trees.

Once you’re alone, the noise of the forest around you is nearly overwhelming. Excited chirping and the rustling of leaves assaults your senses, the subtle sounds mixing together into a cacophony of chaos in your mind.

“Focus,” you whisper to yourself, reaching into the satchel handed to you by Taehyung to pull out the sacred blade.

Your fingers wrap around the hilt of the knife, pulling it out of the satchel so gently that one might think it was made of glass. The blade itself is only a few inches long, the sleek, black material glinting in the moonlight that filters through the tree leaves above.

Allowing your eyes to fall shut, you take a deep breath and try to focus on the way the blade feels in your hand; the grip is surprisingly soft against the skin of your palm, and it almost feels like it’s moulding to fit the shape of your hand.

As the seconds pass by, you begin to feel a tingling in the hand gripping the knife, the feeling growing in intensity until shivers are suddenly wracking your body. You open your eyes at the onslaught of sensations, eyes flying open when what feels like a bolt of electricity shocks you to your core.

When you open your eyes, you aren’t met with an image of the forest bathed in milky moonlight. Instead, you see a beautiful array of bursting colors—some of which you didn’t even know existed. They’re vibrant and filled with every emotion you’ve ever felt to the strongest degree; it feels like you’re tangled in the threads that weave your very soul together, but in the most beautifully inexplicable way.

It feels like years rather than moments before the colors fade and you’re left standing alone in the clearing. When you glance down at the knife in your hand, you’re shocked to see that it’s extended to become the length of your forearm, a swirling magenta pattern snaking around the meat of the blade as opposed to the blue lines in Jimin’s knife.

“Y/N?”

You glance up to see Jimin watching you carefully, a gleeful grin spreading on his face when he notices the glowing blade in your hand.

“You did it!” he cheers, running up to you to wrap you in his tight embrace. He pulls away moments later, hands immediately coming up to wipe away the tears on your cheeks that you didn’t know you’d been shedding. “I’m so proud of you, Y/N. You’ve come so far.”

“I’m a warrior,” you giggle, causing a bubbling laugh to fall from Jimin’s lips in return. “I-It’s so pretty, Jimin. And I feel… I’ve never felt… when it bonded with me…”

Jimin nods in understanding. “Your emotions are probably going to be running a little high until you get some rest. It’s expected after performing such an intimate ceremony.” He reaches out his hand for you to take, squeezing your palm comfortingly when you interlace your fingers with his. “Come on. I know a place where you can be alone with your thoughts for a little while; you probably need it.”

The place that Jimin shows you is beautiful. He parts with a gentle goodbye and a promise of returning within the hour, leaving you to take in the beauty of the scenery in stunned silence.

It’s a scenic overhang that gazes out across the expanse of the hilly forest of Elodia, a sea of glowing flowers illuminating the grass that sways in the gentle breeze. Seeing as the overhang isn’t shielded by any surrounding trees, a blanket of moonlight kisses everything you can see, the sight beautiful enough to nearly bring you to tears again.

You aren’t sure how long you sit out there, feet hanging over the edge of the rocky edge of the overhang when a voice announces its presence from just a few feet behind you.

“Is this seat taken?”

You nearly topple over the ledge at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, clearly not expecting to see him out of all people right now. Too shocked to speak, you simply shake your head no and scoot over a bit, holding your breath when he plants himself just a foot away from you.

“I wanted to say… that I’m sorry.”

That catches your attention, head swiveling to look at him with wide eyes. His gaze is focused on where his feet are swinging back and forth in the open air—a nervous habit that you seem to be mirroring.

“You’re… sorry?” you finally manage, voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook nods. “I’m sorry. For the way I’ve been acting towards you. It’s—It’s unfair to you, and no matter what my personal feelings are regarding the situation, it doesn’t warrant me treating you so terribly. You didn’t ask for this, yet you left your entire life behind to fight for Elodia.”

“It’s not like I had much of a choice,” you mumble humorlessly. Jungkook tenses beside you.

“I know. But you’re still doing your absolute best to help, despite it all. Despite the treatment you’ve received from me.” He exhales slowly. “So I’m sorry. You’re not a burden, and you never were. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Jungkook…” you murmur, trying to find the “I…”

“It’s alright; you don’t have to say anything.” He finally looks up at you. “But I’ll make it up to you. I promise I will. Nothing bad is going to happen to you again; not on my watch. You’re Elodia’s last hope.”

He pulls his feet back up onto the ledge and stands before extending his hand out for you to take. You stare at his outstretched palm for a few moments before acquiescing and allowing him to pull you up from your spot on the ground.

“We should head back so you can get some rest,” he says once he releases your hand, nodding in the direction of the campsite in the woods. “We have a long journey ahead of us.”

a/n; wow. it has been quite a long time since i’ve updated this fic. i’m sorry that this update is so short & for it taking so long :( school has been A Lot & i’ve been working really hard on a big project to post later this month. but! i finally got off my ass and finished writing this chapter. think of it as an early christmas gift.

i apologize for any inconsistencies 🥺 it has been a long while since i dusted off this fic & worked on it, so not all of it is fresh in my brain. i also did not edit this before posting so i’m sorry for that too. i’m also sorry for how utterly horrible the pacing is for all the previous chapters bc i went in and reread them a while ago and... oof. ya girl really rushed that ish. maybe one day i’ll get to rewriting them so they’re better <3

TLDR; thank y’all so much for continuing to support this fic even though it’s been slow going with updates. your encouraging comments keep this fic alive 🥺 i love y’all!!! idk when the next update will be but i’ll do my best to have it out as soon as i can.

「 prev.   |   masterlist   |   next 」

© ughseoks 2020, all rights reserved. do NOT modify, translate, or repost my works. modification, translations, and/or redistribution of my works on any platform is strictly prohibited.

[kayfarafey]

Post a snippet of each of them. Or else.

...ok, fine. here's a snippet of every single WIP from this list. questions commentary and concerns regarding the following can be directed to my ask box.

A Horribly Bitter Malbec

"You," he growled, pointing an accusing finger at a very startled Naruhodou, "are prohibited from defending Herlock Sholmes when he is tried for my murder."

"Lord van Zieks, I do not believe Mr. Sholmes would poison you..." He faltered, and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, on purpose, I suppose."

His lip curled—more of a twitch, in truth, since he was transfixed by the way Naruhodou's coat clung to his body, almost shamefully tight. Though Barok was hardly a fine example to follow, especially now; his clothing was constrictive to a painful degree. "Manslaughter, then," he said, lacking intended bite.

The Absolution of Barok van Zieks - Supplication

So why was he hesitating? Why was the refusal sticking in his throat, unable to be voiced? He couldn’t trust this man with his biggest secret—

Why did he want to trust this man with his biggest secret? What was it about Barok van Zieks that stopped Ryuunosuke from putting up defenses when he so obviously should? From the instant they had met, van Zieks held nothing but barely-veiled contempt for him—or at least had no intention of implying otherwise until today—and yet Ryuunosuke always trusted him to do the right thing, to find the truth with him even when they were meant to oppose each other, and though Ryuunosuke usually had to dig his heels in and drag the prosecutor in the right direction… by foul means or fair, they discovered it together. But that didn’t mean Ryuunosuke should hand the man a loaded pistol and let him do what he would, right? 

Right?

Entropy

"Did you forget?" he asks, a twist to his voice that's unplaceable. The expression on his face is easier to decipher, because his brows are so obviously knotted together with pain, and Ryuunosuke can see the sharp edge of his jaw shifting as he grinds his teeth. He's hurt. Well, he can hurt all he likes, can't he? It's his turn now, isn't it?

"I definitely tried to." A hollow laugh escapes him before Ryuunosuke can tuck it back into his chest. "I was coughing up blood for a while, actually."

"No, you weren't."

"I— what?" Doesn't he remember that? Doesn't he remember the splatter of blood down the front of his only clean shirt from when he woke up screaming, the hole in his throat oozing—no, wait, the wound wasn't real. That was the dream. Where had he been bleeding from? "Ah... I..."

"Why would you lie about that, Counsel?" van Zieks asks, and now he is looking at Ryuunosuke again, but his tone isn't angry and neither is his gaze. "Do you think I don't know?"

Had and Held

When Barok asked this of him, Ryuunosuke thought it might be a joke. Barok was Barok, after all—the intimidating and indomitable Lord van Zieks—and Ryuunosuke was... Ryuunosuke. But the man was different when he shed his cape and persona at the door, when he could exist without his title, without the expectations of others, and Ryuunosuke loved him. Loved him, more than he ever thought he could love someone. He was committed to this, to him; as ridiculous as it made him feel to think so—like he was some blushing maiden daydreaming about it—and as unrealistic as it was for them, if given the chance, Ryuunosuke would marry Barok in a heartbeat. There were very few things he wouldn’t do for Barok, and if this adjustment to the dynamic of their relationship—an incredibly minor adjustment, in retrospect—would make Barok happy, then Ryuunosuke was more than happy to learn how to be dominant.

No Artificial Sweeteners - Aspartame

The man wasn’t a bodice-ripper by any means; there wasn’t anything inherently sensual or seductive about the way Naruhodou walked toward him. He wasn’t putting on airs. There was just something about him that kicked off a reaction in Barok’s brain, some Pavlovian response that made his mouth water and his cock hard. Whatever it was that turned that confident attorney into this lascivious, sleazy creature had infected Barok by this point, but it just turned him stupid and weak, and when Naruhodou climbed onto his lap Barok didn’t wait a second to touch him, his hands finding their place on his hips like they were supposed to be slotted there.

No Thing in the Night

“Discourteous of you,” said the Reaper, “to not offer your companion a seat. Truly appalling manners."

“Are we companions?” Ryuunosuke asked. He might have regarded that assertion with incredulity once. Now it felt almost raw. Abrasive, like grit. “You speak to me as though we are friends, and yet...”

“You don’t consider me a friend?” The Reaper sounded not affronted, but curious.

"Do you consider me a friend?"

"Have I not said as such? Within this very hour, in fact?"

The laugh he offered was no more than a breath. "You've not said many things," he muttered, fiddling with the stoker branch by his knee in absence of his han kote. He felt bare without it, but had no desire to fumble around on the ground to search it out. "I can hardly call a creature my friend when I know nothing of him."

Sotto Voce

Ryuunosuke placed his empty cup on the trunk and tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I’d certainly like to be taller, for one,” he said. “And—”

“We’re speaking of science at the moment, Ryuunosuke. Not magic,” Barok drawled.

“If science could make you taller, I already would have done that,” Iris added wistfully.

The Behavior and Ecology of the Three-Legged Crow

"Hm," Kay says, and hears a much more smug echo from across the table. She does not look up from her cards. "You know… it's not too late to switch games."

"Hm," he says again.

"I'm pretty good at Bullshit."

"You definitely take after me, then. Also, language."

"That's what the game is called," she protests, fidgeting with the edge of her three of hearts where it's worn and bent from use. "Have you ever played Egyptian Rat Screw?" She cannot figure out any way to turn this into a decent hand, and it doesn't help her knowledge of the rules is not even a half hour old. "I'm good at that one."

"But not as good as you are at poker, right, Kay?"

As lazy as his voice sounds, Phoenix Wright is motionless. Kay isn't good like Trucy is—she can't read body language, like, at all, and this man is a professional poker player.

cat fic (untitled)

"Would you like to come sit down?"

"Oh! I… er… no." Immediately, he backpedals, eyes impossibly wider. "That is—! Um. I was sitting all day, and I was just… you know. Going to… take a bath?"

"Forgive me, allow me to rephrase: come in and show me what foolish thing you've done this time."

"You'll be mad."

amnesia fic (untitled)

The memory slips away. When he tries to reach for it, to pull it back to the forefront to complete that unfinished thought, he realizes it’s gone. Gone, like it never existed in the first place, so he retraces his steps—the churning ocean, the dizziness, the hard surface he’s lying on... he was trying to open his eyes, wasn’t he? Yes, of course. He should do that, now that he’s remembered. Good idea.

[13atoms]

Grit (Javier Peña x F!Agent!Reader)

This is my first time writing for Narcos, but I really liked Peña as a character, so here we are. I might do a second part of this, let me know what you think!

Friends-to-lovers, set during s2, no smut but canon-typical nsfw. [4.9k]

*

You sighed, then coughed out a delirious laugh, as the news crackled through Murphy’s radio.

It had been yet another trap, yet another informant you couldn’t trust, yet another victory for Escobar. You, Murphy and Peña were sat in a tense little circle, huddled around Javi’s messy desk. The evening had lasted forever, a whole carton of smokes crumbled into the ash tray, each of you nursing headaches from clenched jaws, palms sweaty, tired of the endless threats from Steve to go and join the agents in the field.

Each stutter of noise on the radio had signalled a new round of tense glances between the three of you, notes scribbled down, short fingernails carving half-moon into palms.

Then, it was over. No fatalities on any side seemed a small miracle, but you knew Javi took no pleasure in hearing that the enemy hadn’t lost anyone either. Shot and bleeding and bruised, every bastard who had walked into that fight managed to scramble away. The transmission from the scene finished curtly, and you felt the three of you deflate.

“Fuck,” Peña muttered.

Murphy slamming his closed fists onto the desk painfully hard.

You exhaled, reeling from the whole evening, stretching back in your chair and wondering what the hell this meant for tomorrow.

“Again,” you sighed, hearing the other agents grunt in shared frustration.

Leaning forward you perched your elbows on the desk, throwing your notes away from you in disgust, letting your head fall into your hands. Your eyes ached, your very bones feeling unimaginably fragile as your muscles untensed and your heart fought to restore calm to your body. It was no good. Adrenaline like this would last hours.

Murphy grabbed his gun from the desk, kicked his chair away as he stood, storming from the room. When you looked up to Javier, worried about what the stupid bastard might do, he just rolled his eyes.

You had a sneaking suspicion that the three of you would be spending your pay checks on whiskey that night.

“Fucking hell,” you declared, more to fill the silence than anything else.

Peña gave a strange little laugh, shaking his head. He copied you, elbows on the table, letting his forehead fall heavily to his palms with the weary exhaustion which had plagued all of you since you first heard the name Escobar.

“What a shit show.”

You nodded in agreement, aching eyes closed. Each blink felt like it would scratch, the darkness of the office only broken by the shitty fluorescent light which created a tiny island of life around Peña’s desk. Everyone else was on the raid, or at home.

Sensible.

“We have to get him. One day. That bastard can’t run forever.”

Peña’s hum of agreement had no conviction, it was as uncertain as you felt, but you liked to imagine he really believed you.

You could feel your body giving up on you, so deprived of everything human for so long in pursuit of a man who always managed to escape back into the shadows. Hunger gnawed at your stomach, the muggy heat parched your lips, your head ached from the smokiness of the room and the sleep which evaded you more and more these days. Your skin felt dirty, no matter how often you washed, stained with guilt and the rivers of blood which ran through Bogotá. It didn’t matter how often Peña told you it wasn’t your fault: you knew your guilt, your sense of inadequacy, would weigh on you for as long as the Cartel was alive and operational.

He felt it too, the hypocrite.

The hunt had drained everything from you. Every ounce of softness and humanity. How long had it been since you were hugged? Since you knew a peaceful night’s sleep or a kind touch? Since you entered a room without imagining the ceiling joists falling under the force of a car bomb? You had slept with a gun nearby since you had joined the DEA here, thinking yourself paranoid. Now, you slept with the damn thing loaded.

“I had such a good feeling about this one,” Peña mused, more to himself than anyone else. You knew he would go home tonight filled with guilt.

Maybe he would take it out on some poor sex worker, fuck away his guilt and fear and frustration.

Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he would call you, pretend the phone lines weren’t monitored as the two of you spoke in vague terms. Unable to discuss work on an unsecured line, desperate to hear something real from another human being, exchanging snippets of your shaking voices until one of you finally managed to find sleep.

With nothing else to discuss, the two of you would talk about yourselves.

You never knew how much was true. How much was omitted. You lied sometimes, out of instinct more than anything, and you knew Javi did too. People like you always did. Beneath it all, though, you got the strange sense that you were really hearing something honest about him.

In the deep grumble of his voice, his landline phone cord stretched to his bed as he took the distraction as a chance to drift off, you would hear something real about him. A story from his youth, some reminder that he was real and mortal, a complaint about an injury that wouldn’t heal, some grievance with a dry cleaner. Even the scratch of his stubble as he ran a hand over it sounded like a confession. A reminder you both had beating hearts.

Every word you exchanged, hitched breaths, waiting for reactions or hums down the phone to tell one another you were smiling.

That felt real.

You blinked, wincing at the horrid overhead lights, which seemed to flicker periodically, only when it would really piss you off. Javi was looking at you with concern, the deep lines of his forehead contorted over a raised eyebrow. His badge was in one hand – he’d been fidgeting with it for hours – but his over hand was extended towards you. Palm up, like he was offering it to you.

When you met his eyes you saw worry, mixed with sheer exhaustion, and tried to offer a weak smile.

Someone was moving in a corridor outside, and he waited for their steps to grow quiet until he spoke.

“Are you okay?”

He didn’t need an answer. The weak smile you offered felt like enough to make you cry, and he closed his open fist, nodded his head in understanding.

“Yeah,” he sighed.

He shared the same burden, the same burnout, pulling him to the ground with ten times the force of gravity, yet refusing to let him take a break in pursuit of these bastards.

“Go home,” he offered sincerely, raising that awkwardly hovering hand to clap onto your shoulder.

You closed your eyes. There was nowhere you wanted to be more than your own bed, but as you devoted a second to thinking about getting home, your body felt impossibly heavy.

“I’m exhausted,” you admitted, hoping Javi didn’t notice the tremble in your voice.

“You look it,” he agreed.

With a raised eyebrow and half-hearted glare you had him scrambling to apologise.

“I- I mean, you look lovely, doll. Always do. Just, shattered. I can barely see it –”

When you laughed, he realised you’d been joking, letting his head fall onto the desk braced by his exposed forearms. You glanced at the clock, realising it was gone midnight. None of you would be in the next day. You’d already gotten the time off, knowing the raid would run late.

They usually did.

Especially lately, everything the DEA did seemed to become an unmitigated disaster.

“Give me a minute, ‘til I can be bothered to walk to my car,” you mumbled, knowing Javi would understand your words.

You admired the mussed up back of his hair, looking worse-for-wear after a day of being tousled and pulled at by his twitchy hands. You wanted to fix the piece which was sticking straight up, but your arms felt too heavy to move.

Adrenaline was a funny thing. It left you jittery, pent-up, and yet completely stationary.

It would be fine once you moved, you knew. You’d forced your body through this gruelling pattern often enough.

You rolled your neck, moaning at the tightness in the muscles, and Javi looked up with that damn cheeky grin. He should be exhausted, but there he was, eyebrows raised, eyes gleaming with mischief. You groaned at him. That man could find an innuendo anywhere.

About to look away, you forced yourself to meet his challenge instead.

“I’m starting to see why you go to those fuckin’ brothels,” you drawled. “You think I could convince them to give me a neck rub?”

“I’m sure they’ll rub anything you want, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as one hand remained on the back of your neck, the muscle rock solid from hours in this stupid metal chair. He stretched out his closed fists and stood wordlessly, taking his place behind your chair like it was the most natural thing in the world. You were about to say something when he commandingly rolled your head forwards, tugging your collar down. When his warm hands found your neck, you gave him a rumbling, contented moan far better than the one which had piqued his interest.

For just a second you felt the slow movements on your neck halt, before he continued to clumsily kneed at the muscle either side of your spine. It hurt, his strong hands against all those tender spots, but it was the best kind of ache.

His hands grew gentler, rubbing softly for a moment, before he spoke.

“Better?” he grunted, and you found yourself scanning the room for something reflective, disappointed that you couldn’t drink in the image of Javier behind you.

“Better,” you choked out, your voice unnatural as you felt the closeness of his touch affecting you.

It had just been too long, you told yourself.

Fuck, you wanted him to do that to the rest of your back. Your limbs. Those strong hands learning your body. And more, if he wanted it.

He cleared his throat and stepped away, and you rolled your shoulders, starting to collect your notes and belongings to leave. Javi slipped his jacket on, adjusting the collar and shaking the arms into place, and you fought not to watch.

“That’ll save you some money from the ladies of the night,” he teased, his tone just a little flatter than it ought to be.

You knew him well enough to sense awkwardness in that rough voice.

“Who said anything about ladies?” you shot back. “Are there male prostitutes? Must be.”

Javi seemed a little shaken, less steady on his feet as he took a second attempt to kick his chair under his desk. He was squaring up papers and stationary as if that was all it would take to tidy the mess around his typewriter, refusing to meet your eyes.

“I haven’t met any,” he ground out, “so I’m not sure I can help you there.”

“And I thought you were a connoisseur.”

You were a little taken aback when he didn’t laugh, and the playful smile fell from your lips. You hadn’t realised how much you were waiting for his deep chuckle, his silence forming a strange missing link in your conversation. Looking up at him, you found him staring at your shoes.

“I’m just teasing, Javi,” you started to apologise.

“No, no. No worries.”

He cleared his throat, playing with the notebook, badge, and keys in his grasp. Passing them from hand to hand. He walked abruptly to the door, toeing it open with his shoe, one hand on the light switch as he waited for you. As you joined him, he looked down, that handsome face distorted with a slight frown.

Frowning seemed to come a little to easily to his features these days.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” he rumbled, and you nodded gratefully.

He locked up behind you, and you felt a pang of guilt for ruining a perfectly good moment. You could still feel the phantom touch of his hands on your neck, the callouses of his fingers, experienced with women and yet inexperienced in such gentle touches.

The two of you strode down the dark corridors, and you wondered if he’d always walked that far away from you. He was walking a few feet ahead, and it felt like miles.

“I really didn’t mean anything by it,” you apologised, mumbling in the hopes he might not reply.

“No, I… I’m not upset. It’s fine. I’m just tired.”

You hummed, knowing he could sense your dissatisfaction with his answer. You were too dazed to find the right words.

As you stepped out into the muggy evening air, blinking against the flood lights, both of you froze. There was some commotion in the parking lot. Someone in plainclothes detained by a guard and another man dead on the ground, riddled with bullet holes. You weren’t sure why, but even after all the violence you saw every day, the puddle of blood around him made you clench your jaw with disgust.

Peña stepped in front of you defensively. He usually treated you as just another officer, but off-duty his protectiveness always seemed to kick in. Tonight, you felt your heart clench in gratefulness, as he approached the scene carefully, fingers on his holster. You were too exhausted to keep up with the rapid conversation between Javier and the guards, only tearing your gaze from the dead stare of the body on the ground when Peña called your name. A third time. He waved a hand in front of your face, and you blinked rapidly, apologising as you focused back in on the moment.

You expected the off-white flash of his teeth, laughing at your slowness, some snarky comment about seeming slow, doll. His solemn frown, his concern, was more startling than the flash of his palm in front of your face.

“That’s it,” he told you gruffly, one hand wrapped lightly around your bicep, “I’m driving you home.”

You laughed, half in surprise, and he smiled wearily.

“You’re exhausted.”

Ignoring his comment, you frowned, words tumbling from your mouth before you could stop them.

“Can you call me? Tonight?”

You knew it was pathetic. You sounded pathetic. You knew that.

He went to reply, and you found yourself unable to stop speaking to hear the answer.

“I just… I don’t know how I’ll sleep. I think… I want to hear your voice,” you stumbled.

Javier sighed, smiled slightly, gave a surprisingly bashful nod of his head.

“I’ll call.”

The two of you climbed into his car in silence, and you kept your focus on the moving dials of the dashboard as Javi crawled past the crime scene, joining traffic. The radio hummed quietly, indistinguishable from the noise outside, and you rest your head on the edge of the seat. As Javier drove you through the city streets you felt your energy return, as you knew it would. It always happened like this. You would be too exhausted to leave, be tempted to make a camp on the cool concrete floor of the office. Then, as soon as you were almost at your own front door, you would have the energy to run laps of the block.

You watched out the window, catching reflected glimpses of the flex of Javier’s forearms as he shifted gear, the columns of his neck as he shouted to other drivers, and deft way he handled the steering wheel.

Flashes of red and pink lights made you smile slightly as the car crawled through traffic. It wasn’t a part of town you’d visited outside of work, but you recognised the streets. Javi rolled down the window as you passed brothels, the darkness punctuated by flashes of beautiful women who cooed at Javi from their doorways. You refused to let yourself wonder how many he knew by name.

Then you wondered why you cared.

“Don’t want me to drop you off?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes.

You wondered if Javi had really taken this longer route on purpose, just to make a joke. From the smile on his face, you would believe it. He looked pleased with himself as you gave a groan, trying to hide your amusement.

“Any of them your type?” he goaded again, gesturing out the window, chewing his words.

You shifted in your seat, sitting up properly, blinking back a headrush as everything suddenly felt real again.

“None of them look much like John Travolta,” you noted, smiling as yet another gaggle of women gave the car flirty waves.

A few called out male names, fakes names you presumed, and you saw the man beside you wince. You waved back, smiling. Javier groaned, thumping his thumb against the leather of the steering wheel.

“Travolta? Really?”

You laughed, the lightest you’d felt all day, at the grimace on Peña’s face.

“Yes, Travolta! I’d totally pay a Travolta look alike. You got a problem with that?”

“He’s too soft. No grit.”

“He seems nice!”

Truthfully, there wasn’t much time for films out here. Even less American celebrity gossip. But you remembered him being very popular before you left.

“You could pick up a Travolta look-alike at any bar in this damn city, they’d be falling over themselves. You certainly wouldn’t need to pay them.”

You gave a private smile at the hypocrisy in his voice, as he scoffed over the idea of paying someone for sex. As if he was short on women who found him attractive.

“Yes, but unlike any old bloke in a bar, if I paid they couldn’t fall asleep on me after two minutes.”

Even as the traffic picked up speed, Javi rubbed a hand over his face in frustration, groaning yet again.

“That’s fuckin’ depressing.”

You could hear the unsaid pet name on his tongue, a strange stutter to the rhythm of his sentences, and you wondered why he held it back. The drawl of doll or sugar when he spoke to you was as natural as breathing at this point.

“Yeah.”

The red lights of brothels were far behind you now, and yet Javi was still driving the wrong way, taking a longer route to your place. You bit your lip, looking straight ahead and wondering why he was stalling taking you home.

Hoping you knew the reason.

Javier suddenly shouted, clutched the steering wheel as a car full of young guys cut him off, one hand reaching out like a safety harness across your chest as he slammed the brakes on. As soon as his arm was there, inches from your chest, it was gone again. He was changing gear and honking his horn and swearing under his breath, and you were trying to process the tight feeling in the pit of your stomach. He apologised as he swung the steering wheel, taking a side street to avoid the car ahead, wary of the guns and middle fingers waved from the windows by young men still convinced they were invincible under the cover of night.

You exhaled shakily, blinking away sleepiness as you tried to process what had happened, frustrated at yourself for your slowness.

He seemed to remember himself as the car crawled past sleeping houses, the headlights sweeping across cobblestone, finally in the direction of your place.

“Sorry, darling,” he muttered, fingers tapping on the wheel irately.

“No problem. Can’t be careful enough, at the moment.”

He hummed and nodded, gave you a quiet sideways glance before training his eyes on the road again. One hand rested on the gear shift, curved around so his wrist brushed your thigh as you uncrossed and crossed your legs. He glanced towards you again, something so inconspicuous you hardly recognised it, and you wondered if he knew you were trying not to stare.

The brakes complained under Peña’s foot as he finally rolled to a stop outside your building, the night as quiet as Bogotá ever got. There were a few lights on in your block, the faint shouts of an arguing couple muffled as they drifted on the late night air, a baby crying, faint sirens. All reminders that you were yet to settle this torn city.

Javier cleared his throat and reached for the handbrake, cutting the engine but leaving one hand on the ignition. No doubt it was one of those habits which had saved his life once, and then he could never drop it. You felt the slight movement of the car as his foot finally left the brake, and you smiled privately at how overly cautious he was, ready for anything to go wrong.

He shook slightly at the gear shift, checking it was in neutral.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow, if you want. To get your car. Or the next time you need to be in the office. Whenever you need me, doll. Just be safe.”

He swiped at his moustache nonchalantly as he spoke then reached for a cigarette, leaving it between his lips unlit. He pulled a lighter from his pocket one handed, poised to light it as you spoke.

“Thanks, Javi. I really appreciate it, you’re too good to me.”

He froze up, before slowly moving the lighter to the centre console of the car, dropping it into the tray there with a clatter.

“Don’t say shit like that,” he grumbled around the cigarette, but you smiled anyway.

Seeing his prickly exterior come out only meant he was protecting himself from being vulnerable. He looked up at your building, ducking to survey the height of it. You knew it was rougher than where he and Murphy had ended up, but you liked the community of it.

“We gotta get you moved closer to us,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head for show, and you huffed out a laugh.

“I’m fine, Javi. Thank you for the lift.”

As you reached for the door handle he seemed to startle, the bubble of calm inside the car burst as a rush of hot air and noise swarmed through the open door.

“I’ll walk you in,” he declared, stashing his gun beneath his jacket and pulling the keys from the ignition.

“It’s fine, please, you can call me tonight,” you insisted, your feet finally hitting the ground as you got out of the passenger seat.

When you looked back into the vehicle for a gentle goodbye, you were surprised to see something sad on his face. Something disappointed, lonely, enough to make your heart clench.

“Unless you want to come in?”

He was beside you in an instant, the car needlessly loud in the click as Javi twisted his keys in the door to lock it.

“You’ve had a long day,” he reminded you, one hand hovering insistently behind your lower back, refusing to touch or grow further from you as you approached the entrance to your building.

It felt like forever ago, the failed raid, the violence at your office, the feeling of being fused to that bruising-hard metal chair as your heart raced in time with the static of the radio. The memory of Javi’s hands on you had finally vanished for just a second, until he brought it right back.

“You have too, Javi,” you muttered, looking away as you found your key.

“I’ll sleep like a baby tonight,” he grumbled, feet heavy on the stairwell as you ascended to the second story of the building.

“No other plans?”

Your question was supposed to be light-hearted, both of you breathing more heavily as you reached the threshold to your apartment. Key in the lock, you turned to see Javi leaning against the wall as casually as if he belonged there.

“None,” he whispered, “I’m here as long as you need me.”

Who said I needed you?

His arms were folded, fists clenched, and you wondered if he was stopping himself from reaching out.

He followed you inside quickly, taking the liberty of sliding over every lock on the door before you had the chance to. You could see him mentally sweeping the room, craning his neck to look for anything which might make his instincts rear up. You crossed to the small kitchen counter, dumping everything you were carrying down, as he gently paced the small space. He stuck his head into the bedroom, the bathroom, just checking.

Somewhere deep down, you knew why.

He would never forgive himself if something happened to you.

“Drink?”

Peña nodded, and you stepped back to let him raid the fridge himself, needing no permission. He’d been here enough times, though you couldn’t remember a time without Murphy. It was a different feeling, just the two of you. Calmer. Safer. You couldn’t meet his eyes as you moved around to switch on a couple of side lights. You knew you should eat, but you couldn’t walk back to the kitchen. Not while Peña was there.

The shouting had stopped, the baby had silenced, and yet you knew you wouldn’t sleep if you went to bed now.

Not a chance in hell.

You wondered if that was what Javier was doing too: distracting himself from the thoughts which would find him in sleep. By eating everything in your kitchen, apparently.

“I should cook for you, sometime,” he called, though his voice was quieter than you’d expected. Closer.

“You any good?” you teased, straightening up a stack of papers which would immediately slump into a mess again.

“Not really.”

You laughed a little, hearing his matching chuckle behind you. As you turned you found yourself suddenly between his arms, so close you could see the irritated red threatening the whites of his eyes. You wanted to stroke a thumb across those lines in the furrow of his brow, force him to relax until he turned back into the bright-eyed man you’d once known, who relished wasting government money on the finer things in life, and cheered like he’d won a star player when you were assigned to his team.

It seemed like a lifetime ago, and yet here he was, still in front of you. The same man, beneath the exhaustion and the things he’d seen since starting this damn job. As you were examining the lines of his face, the dark circles which never quite managed to overshadow the beauty of his dark eyes, he was staring at you.

He gave you warning, time to move away or speak or – something. He told you what he wanted with heavy eyelids and a light grip on your jaw, in the slight shuffle of his body closer to yours. Then he kissed you, like it had always made sense. It didn’t feel like the first time, he felt familiar. The slight tickle of facial hair against your face, the tensing of his fingers, seeming to engulf your whole skull and guiding you to lean into him as he groaned into your mouth.

The sound of your lips separating made your eyes open, staring wide at Javier like he was a new man. His grip on your face slipped to hands resting on your shoulders as he watched you, waiting for a reaction, bottom lip between his teeth as he bit down a grin.

You smiled openly, only able to look at his face, and he matched you with a laugh. He pulled you with him as he walked backwards, dragging you on top of him as he sat on your couch, muffling your apologies with a kiss as you fell heavily onto his lap.

The couch creaked beneath him as your mouths met heavily, but if Peña had even felt the weight of you, he didn’t flinch. He was kissing you like the world was ending, like he had seconds before the two of you would be gone forever, and he was determined not to miss a second against your skin.

It had felt like that, you supposed. That you would be ripped from one another too soon. Countless times together you had been seconds from death, an inch from bleeding out, hours from being blown up. It could all end soon, the two of you swallowed in flames or a shower of bullets. Perhaps he was making up for each and every time you had called for one another across a soon-to-be crime scene, desperately glad to see each other unharmed.

Peña’s hand on your waist grounded you, dragged you back into the moment, and you poured everything you had into kissing him so hard his lips would be reddened for days. You wouldn’t apologise for the roughness of it – he was determined to bruise you in response, sharing the kind of desperation which couldn’t be expressed in any other way.

Finally his second hand found your waist, gently prompting you to sit up in your straddle across his lap, staring at this new glassy-eyed, wild expression he wore.

“I’m no Travolta,” he panted, the words ghosting across you face.

You sighed. No living that one down.

“He’s not got enough grit for me anyway,” you promised, pressing a gentle kiss to the aquiline slope of his nose, before strong hands guided your lips straight back to his.

[thenamesseven]

Pairing: Jongho x reader

Genre: Romance, angst, jail au!

Warnings: Angst, mentions of violence, mentions of an accident.

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG WITH THIS CHAPTER BUT I WAS SO STUCK IN SOME SCENES 😭 Hope that the wait was worth it and that you can forgive me!

<- Previous Chapter           Masterlist              Next Chapter ->

“He’s not alone?” The question echoed in the silence of his office, his heart beating slightly faster in his chest when he received the affirmative answer he was hoping to get.

His eyes met Jaehyun’s, the both of them had been sitting in his office, standing the pressure and waiting for the phone call that would confirm if the first step of their plan was successful or not. Seongwha had been reclining back on his chair, feet on his desk as he moved from side to side, rocking himself in an attempt to release some tension. Jaehyun preferred to stay still and stare at the phone, only raising his eyes when Seonghwa picked it up.

The both of them smiled in unison when they heard their worker’s answer, the objective had been Wooyoung but if luck was on their side tonight and you had been in that car as well then none of them would complain about it. They’ve just killed two birds with one stone, two humans with a car accident to be exact.

All the panick he had felt when he found out Wooyoung had been spying on them vanished quickly, now the only one left to deal with was Jongho and he was locked between the walls of the prison he owned. There was not much he could do from here, Seonghwa’s control was back, the situation had been fixed before it got too out of hand.

“Wait a second, I’ll send you a picture so we’re sure it is her and not somebody else” Seonghwa met Jaehyun’s eyes again before sending a picture he had saved on his phone gallery of you, guiding the phone back to his ear almost instantly after sending it. There was more silence, some arguing from the other side of the line that made him roll his eyes a little and right when he was about to clear his throat and demand an answer, the guys Jaehyun hired gave him the response both of them had been hoping for “Get rid of her” He said smiling, hearing Jaehyun sighed relieved “Make sure both of them are dead, we don’t want any surprises”

Without waiting for any kind of response from Jaehyun’s men, Seonghwa hung up on the call and sighed comfortably, letting his phone fall from his hand to the table before he crossed his arms on his chest, glancing at his friend with a happiness that could only be described as madness. How could they be so happy about killing someone?

“One less problem” He whispered smiling, closing his eyes as if he was about to take a nap. “Life works in such funny ways, doesn’t it?” Seonghwa asked Jaehyun, hearing him hum in agreement.

“Now we just have to deal with Jongho, leave him to me” He said standing up, not interested about spending more time with Seonghwa now that he knew his plan had succeeded it “I’ll make sure to deliver the bad news as softly as possible”

Sarcasm dripped out of his words like amusement flowed through the chuckles he let out while he exited the room

It was the smell of burnt plastic and the overwhelming hot temperatures were what brought you back to consciousness first. A whine escaped your lips when you opened your eyes, vision blurry as you tried to scan your surroundings but unfortunately, you weren’t able to see or at least process, the situation you were in right now.

“Wooyoung”

The memory of your friend on the driver’s side was what made you call out his name, a wave of pain going down your body when you tried to look to the side where he was supposed to be. Even though you couldn’t see clearly, you could distinguish his figure on the driver side, unconscious with his forehead resting on the steering wheel.

“Wooyoung”

This time your voice sounded more urgent, way more scared when Wooyoung didn’t even moved at the sound of your voice and seeing he didn’t even react to being called out a second time, you reached down to take off your seatbelt, giving you more freedom to move even though the pain in your body didn’t allow you to do too many things.

You ignored the sticky feeling of your clothes, how sweat and blood were making them stick to your skin like glue and decided to focus on bringing Wooyoung back to consciousness. You could see your clothes were broken in some places, there were hints of wounds you could feel and see but decided to act as if they weren’t there. You weren’t the most important thing right now, Wooyoung was.

The smoke that was passing through the inside of the car made you cough a couple of times, making your body tense up in pain when you did. You could only hope there was nothing broken and that your wounds were merely superficial.

“Wooyoung, hey”

Reaching out, you gently placed one of your hands on his shoulders and pushed him back slowly, until his back was against his seat and his head far away from the steering wheel. There was blood running down his face, a wound in his head signaling he might have a concussion but his chest was still moving up and down with each breath he took and that slowed down the pounding of your heart.

His entire face scrunched up when you forced him to move and probably your constant calling was also helping, he didn’t seem too happy about your decision to force him back to consciousness, in fact, Wooyoung was probably more comfortable with his eyes closed refusing to acknowledge what was happening, dangerously roaming closer to death instead of life but the adrenaline running through your veins was enough for you to keep pushing him back to life.

You were not one to give up easily.

“(Y/N)?” He asked quietly, still refusing to open his eyes but letting you know he was awakening. You kept your hand on his shoulder, not letting go of his body completely in case he passed out again, the last thing he needed was to get hit on his head another time.

“Yeah! There’s a girl in the car too”

The sound of an unfamiliar voice made you momentarily forget about Wooyoung, it also brought back the faint memories you had from before the accident. The two of you talking comfortably in the car, stopping at a red light, being the only car around since it was really late and then….Then a car crashed into yours. The accident hadn’t been unexpected, the other driver had known what he was doing and he hadn’t had any hesitation before ramming into them from Wooyoung’s side.

This had all been intentional.

Your vision, that now seemed to be a bit more clear, moved to the windshield. There were two males in front of you, standing nearby the car that, by the way it looked, seemed to be the one that caused the crash. The both of them seemed fine, standing perfectly straight as they talked on the phone with someone with their backs to you. They probably thought you were either unconsciously still or dead at this point, there was no reason for them to keep their eyes on you because, even if you tried to run away, you wouldn’t get too far.

“Wooyoung” You called out to him again, voice giving away the amount of tension that overflowed the adrenaline you had been feeling, heart picking up the speed of its beating once again “We need to get out of here” He groaned besides you, telling you that he was listening, that he agreed with you but didn’t have the strength to get moving yet “Now”

“Yes, she’s the girl in the picture”

Those words confirmed there was somebody after you, you didn’t have to think much to get to the conclusion this was either Jaehyun or Seonghwa, probably the two of them were after this, which made the situation even worse at this point.

“Do you have a weapon? Anything we can use to defend ourselves?” You asked tense, looking at Wooyoung for a few seconds before forcing your eyes back to the two figures in front of you, not wanting to let them out of your sight.

“What are you talking about?” Wooyoung asked even more frustrated, finally opening his eyes to look at you.

A wave of dizziness made you close your eyes for a few seconds but instead of panicking even more, you simply pinched the bridge of your nose and took a couple of deep breaths, inhaling as much as you could before exhaling it out slowly. There wasn’t too much time left and someone would call you stupid for doing this but good ideas never come when you’re stressed or under too much pressured, you needed to calm down first.

“(Y/N)?”

Your head turned towards Wooyoung, his eyes on the windshield as he now looked at the two guys that were still talking about something, paying zero attention to the two of you. They weren’t in a rush, nobody was coming to help anyways. Wooyoung brought a finger up to his lips, signaling you to keep your voice low before he dragged his eyes back to your face, the seriousness in his look sending chills down your spine.

“Get your phone, see if it works and call Hongjoong” He whispered, seeing the confusion in your face but interrupting you to keep talking before you even had the chance to ask about it “We need help, just tell him to come and get us out of here”

Nodding, you started patting your bloody clothes, looking around the mess the car had turned into as Wooyoung started looking for something as well, you didn’t know what it was exactly but your best guess was that he had a weapon hidden somewhere, one that he would be using to defend the two of you. You almost cried in relief when you found your phone on the ground, right besides your left feet and crouched down to get it, not even caring about the stinging sensation you felt when some of the glass that belonged to the screen scratched your hand.

It was a miracle the phone was still working, most of the screen had turned black but it was still visible enough for you to dial Hongjoong’s number. It only took him a couple of rings to pick up.

“(Y/N)?” He didn’t sound sleepy, Hongjoong was either up to something or still working on the plan to get Jongho out with the guys “Is everything okay?” Concerned dripped from his voice, this was not an ordinary time to call somebody, bad news were mostly delivered late at night and you both knew this.

“Someone is after Wooyoung and I'' There was no point in beating around the bush, you needed the guys to get the two out of this situation before it was too late.

“Where are you guys?” Hongjoong seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation and decided to ignore all the questions he felt like asking to focus on the most important ones.

“I don’t know” You replied honestly, panicking a little when your eyes landed on the gun that Wooyoung was now holding “We were getting out of work, Wooyoung offered to drive me and we had a car accident...It all happened too fast, I don’t know where we are”

Although that would make things even harder for Hongjoong, he didn’t show it and instead signaled for the guys to start getting ready to leave “We’ll be there in five minutes, hold on there”

“Hey! Who the fuck are you calling!?” Your eyes opened wide when the strangers’ attention were now on you, Wooyoung’s hand keeping his gun hidden when both of them started approaching the car at a speed that was pretty much disliked. Your time had run out, now you could only hope Hongjoong would get there fast.

“Wooyoung?” Your voice, impatient and full of fear, made his body tensed up. He also knew this situation didn’t look good for the two of you but there was not much he could do at the moment “What do we do?”

“There’s two of them” Wooyoung pointed out as his eyes scanned the area trying to see if someone else had come with them, it wouldn’t make sense though, two people should have been enough for taking someone out “(Y/N) listen to me” His eyes never moved away from the two figures approaching, his lips moving as little as possible so they wouldn’t be able to read them and guess what he was planning to do “We’re going to get out of this car and try to buy some time, alright? They’re probably armed, way more than us so we’ll try to keep our distance once their guns are gone” You nodded at his words, legs slightly shaking as you tried to get a grip on yourself “Stay behind me, do not give them a clear shot, you hear me?”

“Hey!” One of them shouted again, a few steps away from the car.

“No matter what, stay behind me” Wooyoung warned one last time before he pulled his gun up, aiming at them through the windshield and making them stop abruptly. “Hands where I can see them, Im not fucking around” His voice had shifted to a dangerous one, a lingering threat in his words that made your friend totally unrecognizable, this was a side of him you’ve never seen before.

The men in front of you looked at each other, their hands midway to the back of their jeans where their weapons were probably being kept. You honestly didn’t know what the plan was or what Wooyoung wanted to do but you stayed quiet and decided to keep an eye on them as well.

“You're outnumbered here buddy, don’t make the situation worse than it is for you guys” One of them warned, eyes following Wooyoung as he pushed the door of his car opened without moving his aim on one of them. “Tell your boyfriend to put that gun down” He said, his cold eyes meeting yours.

You tensed under his gaze, unable to hide it and giving him more confidence than the necessary, he knew you were hesitating about this entire thing “You, eyes on me, forget about her” Wooyoung said coldly, standing outside of the car, behind the door “(Y/N) come here, crawl over the driver seat and stand behind me”

You looked at him for a second but Wooyoung was too focused on keeping his aim on both guys to return it. Careful and wincing at the pain you felt every time you moved, you started leaving the passenger seat to crawl into the driver one, right before managing to get out of the damaged car without stumbling in the process. Wooyoung was quick to hide your body behind his immediately, only letting you look over his shoulder.

“You were sent to get me, not her” Wooyoung broke the silence between the four of you, one of his hands reaching back to grab one of yours, holding it ever so gently that it almost made you broke into a thousand tears right there. “We can negotiate something if you let her go”

One of the guys smirked and shook his head, you could understand his amusement though since the two of you weren’t exactly in the dominating role to ask about a negotiation. You should be the ones listening to them, not ordering them around “Sorry dude but apparently she pissed them off too….You know the consequences of that” He shrugged as if he was actually apologizing, your stomach turned, sending a wave of bilis up your throat. You somehow managed to not throw up.

“She didn’t” Wooyoung insisted, holding the weapon tight, letting your hand go to get a steady aim as he kept switching it between both guys “I won’t resist, just let her get out of this”

Something fired up inside one of the guys, you saw it in his eyes, how he could just not believe the audacity Wooyoung was having “You’re right” He suddenly said, looking at the two of you as he took a step closer to his friend “We’ll kill you first and then, we’ll have her all for ourselves to use and enjoy before-”

He didn’t have time to finish his sentence, Wooyoung’s fingers pulled the trigger.

A quiet yelped exited your body as you unconsciously reached out and gripped the back of his shirt, the man that had been shot fell down onto the floor and by the sounds he was letting out you could tell he was still alive but not for longer. A trail of swearings exited the other guy’s mouth but Wooyoung didn’t even let you catch a glimpse since he pulled the two of you down, letting the car door cover both of your bodies.

“Run when I tell you to” Wooyoung informed, chest moving up and down too fast, in sync with yours as adrenaline kept being pumped through your body. “Don’t look back just keep running until you find somewhere to hide, do not come out until Hongjoong shows up, you hear me?”

You opened your mouth to say something but another shot broke what was left of the driver’s window after the accident, Wooyoung had obviously pissed these guys off way too much to attempt the negotiation strategy one more time.

“But-”

“I’ll cover you just run (Y/N)” He interrupted you, looking over the edge of the door for a few seconds before he shot again. “You need to get out of here, alright? For Jongho?” The name of your soon to be husband squeezed your heart, he would be destroyed if you ended up dying here, you knew he would blame himself and carry the guilt forever.

But were you able to just abandon Wooyoung like that?

“Hongjoong will be here soon” You whispered, refusing to move from where you were, everything in your body screaming to run away like he was telling you except your heart, who refused to leave him alone. “We’ll get out of this one”

“God fucking danmit (Y/N)!” He screamed frustrated, knowing you wouldn’t be going anywhere without him, swearing even more when another bullet almost hit his shoulder, scraping his clothes but miraculously not even touching his skin.

Another bullet created a whole in the metallic barrier the car door had turned into, your cover wouldn’t last much longer and it would leave you and Wooyoung totally defenseless against someone who seemed determined to get rid of the two of you.

“Hide behind the car, crawl your way there, I’ll cover you” Wooyoung instructed and knowing he wouldn’t take a no for an answer, you placed your entire body against the raspy pavement, feeling how it scratched your skin as you kept crawling, hearing the bullets fly above you. Pain was the least of your worries now, getting out of this alive was more important.

The low sound of a car engine approaching made your heart beat faster, it was either Hongjoong or reinforcements to make sure you wouldn’t live to tell someone about this. “Someone’s coming” You told Wooyoung, crouching behind the car, watching him crawl towards you as well.

“Hongjoong?” He asked you breathless, the sweat appearing in his forehead making the dry blood in his skin roll down his face to his neck, an image that was scary and worrying, something you would never be able to forget.

“I don’t know”

“I just have two bullets left” Wooyoung announced, looking down at his gun before he loaded it once again, getting ready to stand up and aim at your opponent.

It was kill or be killed, there was no other choice in this situation.

San, who had been stepping on the gas pedal since they had all gotten in the car, was quick to slow down once they started approaching the location where the GPS that belonged to your phone said you were. A silence that only meant tension and worry filled the car as they all mentally prayed for you to be alright, there was no one moment one of them hadn’t blamed themselves for not seeing something like this coming.

They should have known they would attack as soon as they realized they were going down, they should have known better.

With the lights turned off, San stopped the car somewhere he thought they wouldn’t be seen and quickly got out along with his friends, gun in hand, eyes scanning the area in case there were any surprises left for them. You never know what to expect in this kind of situation, this could either go incredibly well or terribly wrong.

“There they are” Hongjoong whispered, seeing the two of you crouching behind what used to be Wooyoung’s car. His body was still covering yours, protecting you even when he knew he could die anytime.

San had never liked cops but he had to admit Wooyoung’s devotion for your well-being and happiness despite knowing all your feelings belonged to his friend, were truly admirable.

“Can you see where the guy is?” Yunho asked, looking at the rest of them, eyes frantically searching for another person, willing to just get rid of him and get his friend’s girlfriend out of this nightmare alive. He knew Jongho would be totally inconsolable if you died like this, there was no doubt he would blame himself forever.

“He’s covered up as well, we need to be careful, he could be anywhere” Hongjoong warned, dying to get you and Wooyoung out of there but not willing to risk more lives than necessary, they wouldn’t do any good if they ended up getting shot or dying while trying to save the two of you “Wait for him to get out first”

“Hongjoong is here” Hope filled your voice when you saw San’s body running to hide somewhere, probably willing to take some cover and assured their positions so they could get you out of there safely. “Wooyoung, they’re here” You repeated, looking up at your friend’s concerned face.

“I can’t see him, he’s not coming out” He muttered, not really listening to what you were saying as he kept poking his head out of your hiding spot, trying to see where the guy had gone too. “I just need a clear shot and we’ll be out of here in seconds”

You looked back at where the guys should have been, only meeting Yunho’s eyes, finding him hiding behind some dumpsters. It was surely not a pleasant place to hide and you could imagine him whining about it later but he was safe at least. When he saw he got your attention, Yunho started motioning you to call Wooyoung. They had a plan, they were getting the two of you out of here.

“Wooyoung, Yunho wants to tell us something” Crouching back down, Wooyoung turned and followed your gaze until his eyes landed back on Yunho. A frown appeared in his face though when the male only told your friend to stand up. “I think...He wants you to stand up?” You asked hesitant, not knowing if he was seriously messing around the two of you in this kind of situation.

“Do you trust them?” Wooyoung asked quietly, looking at you once he got Yunho’s orders.

“Huh?” You asked confused, not really expecting that question.

“Do you trust them?” He repeated his question, staring right into your eyes.

“I do”

You didn’t even have time to say anything else, you could only reach out and grip the cloth of the ripped jeans he was wearing when he suddenly stood up, aiming with his gun at a random point, risking his life just like Yunho had told him to do. When the sound of a gunshot echoed in the night, you closed your eyes out of instinct, gripping Wooyoung’s clothes even tighter as if that would move him back down fast enough to dodge the bullet.

A few seconds passed in absolute silence before you finally dared to open your eyes and take a peek, determined to know what had happened. The first thing you saw was that Wooyoung was still standing, eyes down on you, looking way less tense than before. Your eyes were quick to scan his body and when you didn’t see any additional blood or wounds, you could only stand up and throw yourself at him, arms quickly engulfing his body in a big hug.

Wooyoung’s body instantly relaxed as soon as you were against him, a quiet groan leaving his lips at the impact of your body but instead of pushing you again, he only hugged you even tighter, instantly digging his face into your neck as relief washed over him. He had truly thought today was the day he would die, he had been ready to put your life before his but fortunately, help got there before something bad could happen.

“Guys!” Hongjoong was the first one that got out of his hiding spot, a concerned look on his eyes as he looked at Wooyoung and then at you, taking his time to scan your body in search of any worrying wounds that should be taken care of immediately. “How many guys were there?” He asked, still scanning the place, not feeling like celebrating their victory yet.

“Two” Wooyoung exclaimed, looking at them.

By the look on his face you knew there was something wrong.

Everything happened too fast. “GET DOWN, GET DOWN, GET DOWN!” San screamed repeatedly. But it was too late.

You first heard the sound of a gunshot, one you had started getting familiar with, then you saw the pain in Wooyoung’s eyes when the bullet went through his body, piercing his skin and finally, you felt the unfamiliar pain of a bullet entering your body.

More shots echoed in the night, you could even hear the faint sound of some police sirens approaching. Somebody had probably realized what was going on and decided to warn the authorities about it.

Wooyoung called your name as you fell onto the floor, feeling a warm liquid soaking your already dirty clothes.

You heard Wooyoung calling your name even louder when your eyes started closing.

“Mingi help me out!” Was the last thing you heard Wooyoung’s shouting before you drifted into unconsciousness once again.

Taglist: @guess--monster​ @cometoceantrenches​ @miatsubaki23​ @lovelyvitamin​ @heroesfan101​ @daintysan​ @t-tbinnie​ @shyshybabyy​ @little-precious-baby​ @bebetiny​ @mirror-juliet​ @btrombley13​ @yukine-smx​ @wavetease @naphthalene-ball​

Sooo....Wooyoung was supposed to die in this chapter but in the last second I regretted it and made him survive 😂 That's why I took so long...Please forgive me T-T

[justauthoring]

stranded.

Request(s): Hello, darling! Could I please request a Finnick Odair imagine where they get separated in the Quarter Quell and the reader ends up with Johana where her and the others get caught in the blood raining from the sky? Maybe reader isn’t too fond of blood and passes out before she reaches the beach so Finnick goes in to get her? She wakes up and literally tackles him because she missed him. Thank you, love, if you write this! I love your writing a lot! It always makes my day and makes me smile.

hi! i love the hunger games so i’m so excited that you’re getting into it! can i request something for finnick where the reader is also reaped for the quarter quell and they’re trying to protect each other throughout the games and are figuring out how they’re gonna make it through together?

hiii, could get a finnick imagine where they’re victors from different districts and go to the quarter quell together and they confess their love for each other or something. thanksss

Could you do a hurt/comfort fic with Finnick please??????? By the way I love you work 🥺

Just... anything Finnick... please ❤️❤️

Requested by: @arcadianmoonlight & @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Word Count: 1,622 Please don’t plagiarize my work!

Finnick was reaped first.

They went in order of the districts. And being from district six, you had to watch Finnick, a dear friend you’d made during your horrifying time in the Capitol, be reaped for those terrible, terrible games once again. When you heard his name be called, the worry of being reaped yourself seemed to no long matter.

You wanted to be reaped. If only to be with Finnick, even if they were your final days.

And when the sweet, old lady who had never been anything but kind to you was called, it wasn’t a matter of thought or hesitation before you volunteered for her. You did it for selfless reasons, even if as you stepped forward and called out the words that by right meant your death you were shaking from fear beyond relief, you knew you were at least saving one woman’s life who’d gone through enough turmoil for a life time.

And... that meant you could be with Finnick. That in itself was enough.

Joining the rebellion was one of the easiest decisions you’d ever made. Half because of what it stood for, and half because Finnick had been there, and being with him always made you feel ten times braver then you actually ever felt. 

The night before the games, you thought you were prepared. It was a numb feeling more than anything. You weren’t scared, weren’t even really angry honestly. You never wanted to go through the games ever again in your life, but you felt as if a change was coming, and even if you never got to see the end of it, you knew your sacrifice was not pointless.

If you were to die in the games, you’d be dying protecting the chance of a new world.

And that’s something you’d always dreamed of.

But nothing could’ve prepared you for the feeling of standing on those pedestals, staring around at the arena like the first time. It was so alike and yet, so different then you remembered. You remember trying to look for Finnick, desperately so, but unable to see him. Your heart was pounding madly against your chest, racing, and it felt as if you might throw up. Your nails were digging into the palms of your hands and you were trying to keep a level head, but ultimately failing.

Then the games started.

You ran fast to the cornucopia, somehow managing to make it there without running into anyone. You made a beeline for the weapons, all while trying to keep out a careful eye for familiar faces, namely Finnick. When your eyes land on a katana, a small bout of hope manages to flood through you, knowing that if you could get your hands on that, you were ten times saver.

Just as you move to reach it, someone jumps in front of you. It’s one of the careers.

In his hand is a staff.

You barely manage to dodge a hit, ducking with stride, nearly tipping into the water beside you. You strike your leg out, managing a hit, but it ultimately not really doing anything. You try to slip past him, get behind him so you can grab your katana, but the second you try, you’re nearly knocked in the shoulder.

Just as the career is about to send a deadly hit to your head, an axe stabs him square in the middle of his back. Your lips part as you watch his eyes widen, then dull, and he tips, falling into the water with a loud splash.

Behind him stands Johanna.

You meet her eyes, and with a nod, you rush forward, grabbing your katana before turning to you. “Have you seen Finnick?”

She shakes her head; “but I found Wiress and Beetee, like I was told. Come on!”

You want to argue. Want to look for Finnick. But you don’t. Instead, you follow her, rushing off with her and her district partner in tow, bringing Wiress and Beetee along, into a section of the jungle. You don’t really stop running until you’re in the depths of the trees, surrounded and hidden from view.

When you slow to a stop, everyone’s exhausted but alert. You grip your katana tightly in your hand, shaking.

“We should be good here.”

“For now.”

You drown out the chatter, glancing around.

“Did...” And you start off slow, breathless, chest rising and falling rapidly. “Did anyone... Did anyone see Finnick? Or-Or Mags? Did anyone--”

You meet their eyes, seeing the pity on their gazes, even Johanna looks at you with sympathy, and you know right then and there, your question is useless. Everything had happened so quickly and suddenly... Finnick could be anywhere.

He could be... he could be dead.

You shake your head free of the thought, knowing nothing good will come from thinking like that.

You keep your mind busy with helping the rest of the group. You all continue to walk, going further and further into the depths of the jungle, keeping your ears on alert for any noise of someone approaching. You help set up camp and volunteer to keep first watch when night falls, knowing that you won’t be able to sleep anyway.

Hours, you’re sure, pass. And it’s reaching sunrise when you’re woken up by a raindrop falling on your forehead. You blink yourself awake as more raindrops fall on your head, groaning lightly in response as you push yourself up, meeting Johanna’s gaze, who’d taken last watch, sharing a similar expression.

Holding your hand out before you, you expect a simply drop of water to fall on your hand.

It’s not water. It’s akin to your worst nightmare.

“I-It’s blood...”

-

“You just left her there!”

“I had to get them out! That’s what you told me!”

Scoffing, Finnick brushes past Johanna without another word, ignoring the calls of his group as he rushes back the way Johanna, Wiress and Beetee had just run from. His lips snarl in disgust and discomfort at the traces of blood left from the blood rain, it coating his shoes, creating a thick and tense turmoil for him to rush through.

He has no sense of which direction to go. You could... You could be anywhere.

But he couldn’t just leave you in here. Not if there was a chance you were still alive. He... He had to find you.

He couldn’t lose you.

He wanders for a while, your name leaving his lips in a desperate shriek, hoping that just once he’ll hear you call back. He never does. Finnick doesn’t hear you respond not once, and his hope starts to dwindle while his desperation becomes tenfold, eyes frantically searching for your figure.

And then... then Finnick sees you.

He’d notice you anywhere. The sight of you brings such a deep, immediate relief to him as he instantly picks up the pace in his step, rushing towards you, and falling to his knees next to your limp body. Pressing his ear against your chest assures him you’re still alive because of your faint breathing. He brushes back the strands of blood-soaked hair that sticks to your face, looking for signs of any life-threatening injuries.

There’s scratches along your cheeks, probably from branches, and you’re covered in blood, but other then that, you look fine.

Slipping his arm under your knees and the other behind your back, Finnick gently pulls you up in his arms bridal style, while making sure to grab your weapon too. You stir gently in response, a moan of discomfort leaving your lips, but you don’t wake up. The trek back to the rest is with a lighter heart, though Finnick doesn’t once slow his step, desperate to get you cleaned up.

The others watch him carefully as he submerges from the jungle, but he doesn’t say anything, bringing you into the water carefully but quickly. You jump in response to the cold water, but Finnick keeps you safely tucked in his arm, using his free hand to wipe away the dried blood off of your skin, suit and hair.

A soft, relieved smile curls onto his lips as your eyes flutter open.

You choke at first, coughing the blood that you’d swallowed involuntarily, and Finnick helps ease you best he can. And at first you jump, confused, the last memory you have being in the depths of the jungle, choking on blood, but then your eyes find Finnick’s and you ease almost immediately.

“You found me...”

“Of course I found you,” Finnick whispers, pulling you up against his chest as you breathe heavily, trying to calm your racing heart. 

“Did the others--Did--”

“They’re safe! They’re safe!” Pulling back, Finnick points behind himself, to the rest of the group that scatters around in the water and on the beach itself. You ease in his grip as you let your eyes flicker across them all, meeting Johanna’s eyes briefly and nodding when you she sends you a look.

Turning to Finnick, you smile gently, bringing your hand up to cup his cheeks. “You went to look for me?”

Finnick shakes his head; “I couldn’t just leave you there.’

Letting your thumb stroke his cheek gently, you nod, voice a light whisper; “thank you...”

“I...” And he hesitates, face twisting for a moment as you watch with a blink, confused. “I have to say this. In case... In case...” You soothe his hesitation, stuttering with a gentle smile, cupping his cheek. “I love you...”

And your heart flutters in response, leaning up in his grasp to press your lips against his own in a quick, but meaningful and heartfelt kiss.

“I love you too, Finnick Odair,” you laugh lightly. “I have for a long time now.”

-

Let me know what you thought?

[jjba-hell]

Repaid

Day 3 and its time for some spaghetti western shenanigans.

Listen... I don’t like Westerns but I did have way too much fun writing this so do with it what you may.

Reader stays gender neutral in this house, no real warnings save for some guns and violence. Enjoy.

The dull ache in your right eye socket is really starting to get you. You’d figured you could sleep it off if not for the scratchy material of the tavern sheets under your skin.

Wait.

How did you get to the tavern again? Last time you checked Miles was a few days behind you and he had the money. The plan was to camp.

Camp... camp... oh right camp! You sat up to look for anyone else awake- someone should be on watch but there’s no dying campfire beside you. There was nothing beside you, not even a horse to say you’d been left behind. All that stretched around you was an infinite amount of desert sand painted pale blue by the full moon above you.

“Shit.” You hiss out between your teeth as you push yourself up on your feet. Not even so much as a sleeping mat was underneath you and god this stupid eye of yours was foggy. Must be some sand caught in your eye- wouldn’t it scratch though?

You didn’t have much time to consider pondering as a shadow- that’s the best you could describe it- pushed its shoulder through you and continued a sluggish walk ahead of you to fuck knows where.

“Where are you going?” You found yourself asking with a voice much too hoarse to be your own. Not only was it hoarse but it brought awareness to just how dry and cracked your mouth and throat were. If you’d been out here since sundown or ever before that your throat was probably bleeding. Might explain the taste.

Without feeling like you had much choice you started walking after the shadow. The longer you walked the worse every annoying itch turned into an ache- the scratchiness in your throat only seemed to get worse the more you huffed a breath to continue walking. If you were following death, honestly you’d just laugh.

After what felt like hours you were no longer alone- a few other figures much like the one you were following seemed to join you in blindly walking after the leader. You couldn’t see much of them either, not that they were close enough to look at anyway. The town’s dull yellow lights seemed to brighten every step you took but it wasn’t enough to convince your body to cooperate. The closer you got, the heavier your limbs, the harder the steps until your knees gave out under you and your face acquainted itself with the dirt.

All you could remember after that was the feeling of hands clasping themselves under your arms and your feet dragging behind you.

“That’s the only memory I have of that night. I had no idea I even spoke to you.” You admitted to the man whose saddle you were slung over. “So unless you plan on selling yourselves out for a little bounty money I don’t see why this is fucking necessary.”

When you’d woken up from that night you found yourself more coddled than you’d ever been in your life- swaddled in soft sheets and even softer pajamas, wrapped up in bandages like you were a porcelain doll.

Didn’t last long and now you owed this gang money for your stay and a doctors visit. You promised you’d pay them back but you didn’t have a fucking penny on you. Their solution? Tying your hands in front of you and slinging you over the saddle of the one with the weird eyes.

“You admitted to being from the McRoys gang- that’s loyalty bonded by blood.” The gruff voice above you commented, not doing anything to qualm the painful pounding your stomach was getting from the horse’s steps.

“My sister married a McRoy for fuck’s sake, those fucks don’t mean shit to me!”

“Swear that on ya daddy’s grave?” Came the question after some audible hooves clambering to get closer to your head.

“I’ll do ya one better- I’ll put ‘em in his grave and THEN swear they ain’t mean shit to me.”

Their boss slowed down to a stop and you’ve never wanted to slide headfirst into the sand more than you did in that moment. “This the place?”

You were hauled off of the horse and onto shakey legs. True as hell you stood at the sign for the McRoy ranch and to even a bigger surprise your goddamn horse stood at the troth drinking water with your saddle on and all.

“Why you fucking- untie me right now.” You held your bound wrists at the giant man that had lifted you off.

He only gave an amused huff of air from his nose as he cut you free so you could stomp through the hot sand on bare feet.

“And you leave me? After hauling you out of your fucking mother all those years ago, I topple off you once and you fucking high-tail it?” You angrily grab the knapsack from its back to rummage through for some clothes- wasting no time to slip over your head and over your ass to replace the pajamas.

“Are you sure you were riding alone?” The brunette with the ponytails asked.

“Yeah. I don’t even remember why I toppled, let alone where or how..” You peered at the team once more. “My boots?”

They all seemed to share a laugh as the blonde coughed it up and you humiliatingly stepped straight in them.

“Right. So now that we’re all on equal footing... what do you really want from me?”

Being an outcast in any group was difficult, LaSquadra was no different. You’d have to risk your skin more than once to finally be able to earn even a bit of trust from their boss specifically and what you’d deem your cut was quickly snatched up by Formaggio for drinks until one day Risotto handed you your cut of coin and instead of quietly handing over the money, pulled a gun at Formaggio’s head- the first right move you’d pulled in weeks.

You’d soon learn each of them held a bounty over their heads- deciding to stick together instead of trying to haul each other’s asses to the nearest sheriff. And with your handiwork all over the McRoy ranch heist (clean as you’d tried to keep it), you’d find yourself with a bounty almost comparable to Risotto’s.

It was only when your place among them was solidified that you found yourself suggesting more and more outlandish schemes for a bigger cash grab.

“But we gotta start thinking logically about this- if we burn down every sheriff’s office there’d be no evidence to incriminate us.” You had jabbed at Illuso as you two ducked under an overturned table. One moment you were offering a stand off in the town square, the next thing you knew the bar was being blown sky high by some awfully desperate lawmen.

Risotto’s bullwhip slid across the shattered glass from the neighboring table and that what all signal you needed. “And all of this because ONE wanted poster showed you having a mole on your upper lip.”

“Did you not see the size of that thing??”

Risotto kicked the overturned table to slide into the crowd- leaving you enough of a gap to between the bullets to crack the whip into a couple hands- those viper venom soaked bone shards woven into the end was doing enough damage to the holder’s hand to knock ‘em out of the game for the count.

You got enough of them down to give Ghiaccio the chance to fire a few shots and Melone to bust open the window where Pesci awaited with your way out.

Risotto slid in behind your table and handed the loaded pistol for your round of shots. Not that you missed half as much as the men your travelled with.

Your right eye never did stop being foggy- Melone suspected cataracts but you saw targets much too easy with your foggy eye to cover it up completely. Maybe you were taking “deadeye” too literally though.

After 5 out of 6 rounds now lodged firmly in some lawmen’s thighs you hopped out the window last and took off after the rest of your team.

“If we have to pay for one more bar’s repairs I swear to god I’ll turn myself in for a hanging.” Formaggio huffed as he dropped onto the dusty floor beside you- fingers outstretched for the bottle of moonshine you were only passing around- that shit was vile.

“They’ve been hot on our trail for a while now- you think the townspeople are sick of us?”

“Somehow I doubt they’re willing to take their chances with Ciocolatta’s cronies, must be something else.” Prosciutto lowered himself to your other side, offering a cigarette which you did accept. “You don’t think it’s the new governor?”

“That little blonde pipsqueak? No, there’s no way- he probably got that job from his daddy and doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, let alone getting lawmen to run us down this consistently. Illuso, you’re the one making people squeal when we stay in town, no rumors that could have sparked this?”

“Carne’s allegedly dead but he’s not big enough for the people to let their guards down now.”

“Well we might be finding out soon.” All your heads spun to Risotto as he walked back into camp from the first watch. “There’s someone coming this way.”

“I’m guessing you think we can take them?”

“Sick of running. Anyone who’d come this far after us at least deserves an audience.”

You’d packed everything up except the fire in the camp- if it was going to be a shootout, at least you’d be ready to leave. You were about to mount your horse when Risotto stopped you. “I’m gonna let you stand up front-“ he handed you his bullwhip and two more casings of ammo. “If anything goes south, you’re our best shot.”

So you nodded and led your horse to the front, the others waiting behind you as the group- matching your own in numbers- came to a stop.

“You calling the shots?” The one with long white hair cascading under the brim of his hat asked.

“Nah- just the front line. What you come out all this way for? The moonshine’s shit unfortunately.”

“Precaution. We’re not here for any arrests, though.” Mr Black Bob came to his partner’s defense- the rest only seemed to wait.

“No arrests? You say that with a lawman right next to you?” You gave a nod to Mr Moonhair.

The click of a pistol had the hairs on the back of your head stand up. You didn’t know from which side it came from but it was like a cascade of 13 other pistols pulling back their hammers.

“Perhaps we should talk before we jump to conclusions. Name’s Bucciarati.”

“Well Bucciarati it sounded like that pistol cock came from your side first. I don’t know if I can trust a bunch of snakes that lie to my face.”

It was surprisingly not Mr Moonhair that removed his revolver from its holster. It was the one with the bandana over his head.

Another cascade of metal slipping from leather as they all pointed at one another, save for you and Bucciarati. “Got some trigger-happy subordinates there, Bucci. Who do you work for?”

“The governor.” All charm had left his voice and now you were left to the stiff formalities of a man serving.

“Ah. So you ARE lawmen.”

“We have no idea what sinister grip you have over the townspeople but it will not continue like this. We’re here for an ultimatum. Disappear from your business and all bounties will drop- no lawman will arrest you and the warrant for your hangings will be dropped.”

“Mhm and if we’re caught doing our usual business?”

“Then all charges are doubled.”

You couldn’t help but give an earnest laugh as you broke the stare off between you and Bucciarati. You leisurely turned around and mounted your horse. Risotto gave you a knowing look as you did, stealing yourself to look into Bucciarati’s ocean blue eyes.

“Do yourselves a favor- go visit Reaverbrooke. Ask some questions... shit if anyone is still there... and get a feel for the service we provide. Make sure you report all of that to the little blonde boy’s boot you’re lickin’ and maybe then we can talk on ultimatums.”

The barrels lowered as you spoke, watching Bucciarati keep up his attempt at a death stare.

“But since you’re lucky, you’re dealing with the bleeding heart of this gang- we’ll lay low until you come back to us. Same time next week?”

Bucciarati wasn’t given much time to answer as you led your squad out of the camp. Once enough distance was put between you, Risotto came up beside you.

“You’re leading us to their base? What are you mad?”

“Someone’s gotta put that pipsqueak back into his place. Who better than us?”

[littlefreya]

The Way to Hell - Part 4

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of the source material and claiming it as your own*

Summary: Post Mi6 - August manages to escape with his face intact and just won himself the title of being the most dangerous man on earth. With every agent in the world on the hunt for him, life became a living hell, but that’s okay because hell is where he reigns.

Too bad for the woman who’ll stand in his way.

Previous Chapters: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10| Part 11 |

Pairing: August Walker x OFC (Ingvild)

Word count: 6K

Warnings: Explicit Smut, dark themes, male/female masturbation, bodily fluids, mentions of sexual encounters, dirty words, sexual threats. It’s August, he’s the baddest of bad boys!

A/N: Soooooo this chapter was fun to write, I hope you guys like it :)! Thanks @agniavateira for being my editor and my emotional support! 

Title: Memento Mori

Funny, he’s never seen someone drown in icy water before. With her injury and massive blood loss, the struggle doesn’t last longer than a minute. This is beyond her natural survival instincts, gradually her muscles give up, running stiff as the blood in her veins chills.

August stares with rapt. Not once did the Valkyrie scream for help, or even begged him to save her.

Truth be told, it kinda pisses him off as much as he finds it admirable.

‘Such a strong-willed girl. Would be a shame to rid the world of her so soon.’

“Whatever,” he mutters and carefully steps toward the crack in the ice. His hands hoist the body up before she sinks below the surface. With water in her lungs and her muscles rigid, she’s impossibly heavier.

A red path of blood tarnishes the ice as he drags her body toward the edge of the lake. There is no urgency in his behaviour, relaxed he kneels to stare at the lifeless woman and wonders if in her hubris this is how she believed this day will end.

Her skin is pale blue, lips dark purple. Drained out of wit and life, those delicate Scandinavian features look like something out of a fairytale and he muses whether a kiss will wake her up.

It won’t make any difference to the world if she’s dead or alive, it certainly won’t make any to August Walker.

His digits stroke her frozen cheek, sensing the skin is stretched over the hardened muscles. He tilts her head up and presses at the hollows of her cheeks to force her lips open. For some reason, he thinks of a different dead girl, though they are nothing alike.

Planting his mouth over hers, he breathes oxygen into her lungs. Her chest rises, filling with the air he breathes into her. He repeats the process four times and then begins compressing her heart, watching her corpse lie peacefully on the snow.

Never in his years of service had he needed to perform CPR on another person. It’s not as melodramatic as shown in the bullshit movies he’s seen; no one’s shouting “C’mon girl! Breathe!!!” and hits her chest in despair. The owls and bats that chant between the large trees and the wolves howling at the moon from a distance couldn’t care less if Ingvild, whatever her-last-name-is lives or dies.

On the contrary, they’ll be thrilled to eat her eyes out.

He pauses on his attempt to resuscitate her and watches as no change appears in her face. His hands rest in the air, hovering above her for less than a second, considering if to give her another chance. He leans to capture her mouth again when Ingvild suddenly twitches, gagging as water seeps through her mouth and nose like some decorative fountain.

August observes quietly. Her eyes are shut, her body is only reacting instinctively, coughing out the water in her lungs. He nudges her to the side, draining the water out until she stops coughing and lays unconscious on the ground.

He moves his ear closer, listening to her soft breaths. He wonders how long will she survive in such a condition, suffering from hypothermia and massive blood loss. Letting her drown might have been a favour, he might have just granted her a cruller death.

Blackness surrounds her, chaining her to the ground. An excruciating pain blossoms in her lungs, as if someone placed a massive weight that smothers her while her throat and her nose sear with pain. The rest of her body feels numb, someone might as well leave her limbless.

The image in front of her appears blurry as she attempts to open her eyes and hang on to the tendrils of reality, uncertain when and where she is and what happened at all. Was life just a dream?

Or was it a nightmare?

‘Liam?’

No voice is produced from her lips, she is not even sure they’re moving.

The face that greets her is certainly not Liam. It’s the man who granted her this agonizing death. He looks at her with silent curiosity, not saying a word as her glassy eyes become more and more vibrant.

Her hands suddenly reach to his throat, clutching him with all the energy left in her traumatized body. As battered as she is, he still has to use force to peel her claws off of him. She struggles, grunting and hissing, her nails leave bleeding scratches over his cheek.

“Remember you are only alive for as long as I permit it.” August speaks to her calmly, impressed by her stubborn will to kill him even when she’s hanging by the last thread of her pathetic life.

The struggle takes no longer than a few seconds as her eyes roll back and she falls to the ground, unconscious again.

August collects her in his arms and rises, carrying her through the woods. “Better this way, princess,” he whispers to the sleeping beauty in his arms. The temperature of the water has slowed the bleeding, causing the blood vessels to clot and reduce the pace of her heartbeat. It benefits in keeping her alive, but it’s also slowly killing her.

He returns to the bed and breakfast to be greeted by the receptionist who stares at him, baffled.

“Too much to drink,” he explains, offering her a charming smile as he continues marching toward his room with the unconscious girl in his arms.

~*~

“Fucking mess,” he mutters as he enters the room and shuts the door behind him with his leg. That stab wound may be bleeding slower now, he hasn’t ruptured any viable organs. However, the gash in her flesh is large and still needs to be dressed.

He drags her to the bath and puts her on her feet, letting her limp body lean onto his while he unzips her suit and boots, stripping her to her undergarments. A crescent-like slit gushes blood at the side of her abdomen.

August places her in the empty bathtub before grabbing the first aid kit he bought at the hunters’ shop. Being a wanted man now, he had to be prepared for everything.

It was nearly him tonight that needed that first aid kit.

The scent of alcohol fills the room as he pours it onto her open wound. He waits for a response from her, maybe a twitch from the excruciating pain, yet Ingvild is so far gone she doesn’t react whatsoever. His finger presses to the tendon in her neck, only to make sure he is not taking care of a dead girl.

A faint pulse is there; her heart still beats. Yet her body is as cold as ice, and he knows that if he won’t take care of her soon her systems will begin to shut down one organ after the other. He sews her wound shut quickly, making unfashionable stitches across the wound.

“Sorry love, no more bikini for you.” he mocks the sleeping girl. “Although porn sites must be filled with scar-porn, so you’re good.”

After stitching her up and dressing the wound, he carries her back to the bedroom and lays her on the bed. Her skin is shivering, frozen and pale as death itself. She has hypothermia and needs to have her body temperature stabilized before every one of her major organs will go into failure.

“Not how I pictured us getting into bed naked,” August jokes without humour while beginning to peel off his clothes until he is completely bare. He towers over her trembling form and watches how helpless she appears. His hands run down her spine, reaching to find the hooks of her bra. It takes no effort to unclasp the flimsy soaked fabric and discard it on the floor. Next, he coldly and methodically slips her underwear off.

He takes no pleasure in stripping an unconscious woman who can’t defend herself or struggle, yet he cannot resist observing what’s laid right in front of his eyes.

The sight is indeed pleasing.

‘Hate me later, princess. I am just a man.’

August climbs onto the bed and lies in front of her. He pulls her toward the warmth of his body until her forehead is pressed against his chest and every inch of her skin is covered by his own. With a clenched jaw, he holds her close.

In his arms she trembles, teeth chattering, while her heartbeat is feeble and can be hardly felt against his chest.

He thinks of nothing while holding the cold, half-dead girl against him.

Nothing at all.

Not the memory of another dead girl.

~*~

Ingvild scratches a scab on her knee, watching the other girls as they play without her. They stick their tongue at her and call her a freak. She doesn’t cry, only sniffles gently while her small fingers pry at the itchy skin.

“Ingvild,” Sister Marja walks toward her, making a sour face as she sees the girl. She never liked her either. “Someone is here to pick you up, finally.”

Little Ingvild jumps from the dirty log she is sitting on, brushing her skirt and arranging her braided pigtails before joining Sister Marja. ‘That uptight crone, all she needs is a good fuck.’

The sister hurries toward the orphanage while Ingvild runs after to keep up. Her heels echo on the floor through the arched hallway of the facility.

A man waits for them in the office of the Mother Superior, Yet another crone who looks like she never had a good fuck. But there is a smile on her face, making her loose skin become all creases and wrinkles like a dried rotten potato.

Ingvild looks at the man who stands with his hands behind his back. His hair is black with few threads of silver. She is uncertain if he is smiling or not; the expression on his face is of a person who’s trying to appear pleasant but in a very contained way.

“Ingvild, this is Liam.” Mother Superior speaks in her terrible heavy smoker voice. “He is your new adoptive father.”

~*~

Warm light strokes her face, forcing her eyes to blink open slowly. A basic function that suddenly feels oddly painful. Her eyelids are too heavy as if she never opened her eyes before in her life. The scenery around her is still too vague; she doesn’t recognize the room at all, wondering if she is in another dream.

A word in her own language blurts out of her mouth as she tries to sit up, accompanied by a small groan. Everything feels out of place as if her limbs have been misplaced and her internal organs exploded inside her body. Pain begins to course through her body, starting with the muscle of her right forearm which now feels extremely strained.

“Ah…” she grunts out, tugging at her arm which is in an odd position.. But for some reason, her arm won’t budge. It’s tied to the bedpost above her head by a tight rope.

‘This is hilarious. Like watching a dog wake up from anaesthesia.’

“Hva?” she asks in her mother’s tongue. “What?”

She gives the bind a few good moments of struggling before giving up. It’s when the heavy blanket that covers her slightly descends from her chest. She realizes she’s been completely stripped of her clothes.

Panicked, she hugs the cover to her chest with her free hand. Her eyes were looking around with slight anxiety while she continues to pull her right hand in an attempt to free herself.

The scent of coffee tickles at her nose, alerting her that she is not alone.

August appears in front of her with a red cup of coffee in his hand. He wears that familiar arrogant look with a hint of a smile, so vicious and cold it makes her feel she wasn’t only stripped off her clothes but of her skin and muscles as well.

Would have been better if I was stripped and bound to the devil’s bed.

He takes the wooden chair, dragging it on the floor which makes her cringe at the screeching sound. Fragments of the night before begin to fill the gaps in her memory. She tied him to this chair.

Placing it in front of her, he sits down, legs spread widely with confidence she can only describe to herself as irritating as fuck.

She hugs the cover tightly to her chest, her legs curling toward her torso to shelter herself which suddenly inflicts an excruciating pain in her lower abdomen making her moan involuntarily . Peeking beneath the thick blanket, she finds the large bandage on her torso, stained with a few drops of brownish-red blood.

“Good morning, love, we’ve had quite the night.”

More shards of memory begin to cut through her mind. Like remembering an event that happened so long ago, it almost feels like a dream. Her mind fights to make sense, to grasp at the fuller image. She recalls gasping through the woods at night with weak limbs and a hand full of blood. Then a shot that ripped through the night. Bats were flying everywhere and then her body was cold for some reason.

No, she was freezing.

Like a videotape that’s cut off and glitches in the middle, her memory stops there. Making her stare at the Scandinavian pattern on the blanket as if she will find any answers there.

“Who is Liam?” August asks, taking a long sip from his coffee. There is much amusement in seeing her cowering before him looking so helpless right now. Stripped, unarmed, and bound to his bed after he took her life and gave it back.

He licks his lips at her which only makes the alarmed look on her face become more distinguished.

“You’ve undressed me?” she asks, finding out her voice is aching and hoarse, as if something seared her throat. “And tied me to the bed?”

August’s teeth are exposed to her as his smile widens. She makes a note of two sharp fangs, it makes him look like a vampire. “Perceptive, aren’t we? Wasn’t for any personal interest, you were in hypothermia.”

He gives a small pause, his eyes travelling across her covered body, unable to deny how nice it was to wake up with a naked woman in his arms. “Not that I didn’t enjoy having your tits pressed to me for an entire night.”

Even as lost as she is, she can’t help but roll her eyes at him and groan with hatred.

‘If anyone in Icarus hears of this, I’m done for.’

Was the stinging pain in her chest failure or sepsis? Either way, it stung. This was far from how she imagined this mission going along. Ending up as a captive of psychotic target, tied to his bed as a future sex slave or heaven knows what.

‘How the fuck did I end up here? Like this? Why?’

August watches as she frowns with deep concentration, forcefully trying to evoke some memory of all the lost hours from last night. He wonders if she knows he killed her. He’d very much like to remind her of that, of how she was at his mercy and the only reason she’s alive right now is because he allowed it.

‘And still she tried to kill me right after I gave her back her life. What a woman.’

“Who is Liam? And please don’t make me ask again, given the poor situation you’re at right now, princess.”

More echoes begin to float in her mind. It’s the look of superiority on his face, the piercing gaze that threatens to cut right through her.

“You tried to kill me!”

“No. I have killed you,” he corrects her.

“You were dead for at least 5 or 7 minutes.”

She stares at him completely bemused, her eyes seeking answers on the lines of his chiselled face. There is no remorse, no care, no mercy in it. She doesn’t even bother to look for affection, whatever that looks like. He is as cold as Helheim.

“But you saved me. Why?”

His jaw clenches, the muscles in his face straining as he remembers that idiotic idea he had last night, that mistake that’s now lying naked on his bed. For a man who plans ahead, he hasn’t thought this one through, not even for a second.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, I only need you for intel. One wrong move and I’d be glad to put you back to the bottom of that lake.”

“You know who sent me, CIA, Erica Sloane.” She shrugs, staring at him oddly.

He leans forward in his chair looking deeper into her eyes, trying to invoke fear in her. Yet she remains stoic, only her eyes glaring at him like two icicles.

“How did you know I was here? Who else knows?”

“I’m a good tracker,” she answers, doing her best attempt to shrug her shoulders with one hand latched above her head. “And you are not as smart as you think you are, August Walker.”

August offers her a dangerous stare, crossing his arms around the wooden backseat while his feet push from the ground to lean closer to her. He doesn’t like to be challenged, especially not by silly little girls.

“Why is that?”

A small smile spreads on her face. “From all the vehicles you could have taken, you stole my bike.”

A hiss of disbelief leaves his nose but the answer doesn’t please him. He leans back on his chair until it lands forcefully on the ground, making a loud thud through the moderate silence in the room. His hand reaches toward her, grabbing her jaw and cupping it crudely.

“No, how did you know I was in Norway?”

She clenches her jaw, trying to escape his touch but his grip becomes firmer, his fingertips painting red marks on her sickly pale skin. “Answer me.”

“I didn’t-”

“Bullshit.” he challenges her, now closer to her face than she would have ever wanted. His hot breath is a breeze on her skin. Her natural instinct to learn details kicks in, forcing her to pay attention to every freckle s on his nose, his bottom lip, and the lines and small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

‘So much anger’, she analyzes. He is not even furious yet it seems he keeps so much bottled up.

‘Does he ever get tired?’

“I didn’t know,” she finally answers, both sincerity and scorn in her voice. Then, a small provoking smirk appears on her lips. “It was destiny that brought you to me.”

He snorts, shaking his head at her with disbelief, recalling their little flirtatious run-in 2 days ago. His eyes observe her while a smug smirk spreads across his face. He allows his gaze to travel further down her neck and her chest, attempting to peer beneath the blanket to get a reminder of what was pressed to his body the night before.

“Telling you the truth, August Walker, would have killed you then in the ladies room,” she provokes, aware of the fact that he’s staring at her chest even though she keeps it covered.

“Oh?” he returns his gaze back to her, a single finger now takes a hold of her chin, tilting her head up violently. “How would you have done that? I’m intrigued.”

Ingvild licks her lips, drawing attention to her mouth. It’s seduction that she offers but with that same cold, now vicious smile.

“Slicing your throat, while you’re were washing your stupid hair below the tap. I’d then shove a tampon up your ass and send a photo to everyone in Icarus and to Sloane so they can have a good laugh.”

‘My phone, shit.’

The mobile device is traceable, if Liam hasn’t heard from her in a few days he could find her. But now August has it, with the rest of the stuff he confiscated from her. She looks around, trying to find where he placed her items.

August interrupts her inspection, his hand wrapping around her sore throat with a menacing gaze. “Don’t give me any ideas, princess. I’m not the one tied up and naked here.”

“I need to go to the girls’ room,”

She ignores his threat, remaining calm despite the hand that can easily snap her neck.

He looks at her dumbfounded, clenching his jaw once more. “What?”

“I need to go…”

“I heard you.” he frowns, letting go of her throat forcefully and then shoving the chair back, making it screech against the wooden floor while pacing the room, irritated.

‘Great, now I’m a fucking babysitter?’

He begins to regret ever saving her pathetic little life. What is there to gain anyway? A guy named Liam? Whoever that is to her. She mumbled that name in her dreams when her body was struggling to fight for survival.

August finds the bathrobe in the shower room and throws it on the bed next to her, before hovering above her chest to cut her bindings with the same knife he used to stab her last night.

She tries to remain as relaxed and brave as she can, wanting him to think she is not intimidated by him and what she believes to be his empty threats. But every time he makes sudden movements. the intimidation shows in her beautiful grey eyes. Her body flinches and squirms helplessly.

If only she knew how aroused it made him, she’d be terrified.

“Try anything and I’ll unstitch you and let you bleed to death.”

Her wrist burns, the narrow rope has chafed her skin so badly there are deep purple marks on her flesh. She rubs it gently, trying to soothe the pain before grabbing the white cotton robe and staring at August with hatred.

He stares back at her while playing with the knife between his large hands. He slides a finger carefully on the edge of the sharp blade, making a harsh statement. No, he is not going to turn around.

Rolling her eyes she hides beneath the cover, pulling the bathrobe beneath and wearing it quickly, the relief of having something other than a blanket covering her feels almost astonishing.

At last, she throws the heavy blanket away and kicks her legs out of bed while wearing his oversized bathrobe. August remains silent, his eyes fixed upon her while the knife is pressed between his teeth.

Trying anything like killing him or escaping is far from realistic as she finds her legs hardly able to hold her own weight. The hardwood floor beneath her feet feels soft and mushy, if someone would have told her she’s stepping onto marshmallows she might have believed them.

She only manages to make two feeble steps before black spots appear in her sight and she falls forward with a pained grunt. She never makes it to the ground. Odd, she hasn’t noticed how big and strong he is when wrestling him on the floor. It seems that August has doubled in size.

“Who was it that didn’t love you, August?” she provokes coldly, grunting as she tries to lift her torso from his elbow. “Was it your mother? Or your dad?”

Silence and indifference is his answer to her query, with only a muscle that twitches in his cheek. He observes quietly as her hands grasp his biceps desperately and pathetically, trying to stabilize herself. It must make her hate him even more right now, to need him as much as she does.

He recalls how much he hated himself when he needed someone.

“Both then…” she answers, slightly panting.

“Did anyone ever loved you at all? Ingvild?” he taunts her back while helping her get to the toilet. He notices how her eyes look around while they move through the room, looking for her things, no doubt. She is smart, he’ll give her that, she is cunning and calculated even in her weakest moment.

But he’ll always be a step ahead.

“More than they loved you, I am sure.”

He lets her into the small room and shuts the door, leaning against it and patiently waits with his arms crossed. The sudden silence and her short absence begin to cloud his thoughts. It’s almost as if he’s dreaming awake, seeing her again, her hair falling from her decaying scalp like leaves falling from a tree.

‘Not more than you.’

The crude vibration of his phone snaps him back into reality. A message from one of the apostles, stating nothing but a location and an hour. He smirks to himself, glad to be soon away from this freezing hell. Now the question left is, what he should do with the little problem he created for himself?

Snap her little neck? Strangle her to death? Make it intimate, she deserves as much. He can already see his body hovering on top of hers, his hands wrapped around her, tight like a lover’s embrace. The robe opens as she struggles, exposing much of her naked flesh.

The thought makes him hum with delight but once again he is interrupted. This time it’s by her face that stares at him, blank of emotion, with eyes like two empty crystals. She leans against the door frame, her face tilted up to meet his gaze. “I need to shower. I smell like you.”

He wonders at all why he should fulfil her request. She’s a prisoner, not a guest, and far from being someone, he’d care for. His eyes run up and down her body and finally at the cold unreadable expression on her face.

“Whatever.”

The bathroom is rather large, surrounded by cream-coloured marble tiles that adorn both the walls and the flooring. There is a large, fancy bathtub in the middle of the room, one that is made to look old and classy with golden taps. An additional shower is placed at the other side of the room, surrounded by a thin wall of glass.

The bath looks so tempting, her eyes fixate upon it, fantasizing about slipping into a warm bubble bath with one of those pink and purple bath bombs.

August notices her fascination and snorts, edging her toward the shower instead. “You should’ve taken my offer back then, princess. Be thankful that I am allowing you the luxury of showering at all.”

For all, he cares she can die of infection, who knows what bacteria these lake water she bled into had.

“I’d take the shower over-sharing anything with you,” she spits back, her hand grasping the golden handle of the glass door. August remains facing, leaning against the marble tile with ease while sucking on his bottom lip with anticipation.

“Aren’t you going to at least turn away?” she asks naively, crooking her eyebrow up, bewildered by the large man who’s standing there with sheer confidence on his face, not bothering to give her an inch of privacy.

“No,” he smirks cockily, licking that small freckle on his lips. “You tried to kill me, I don’t trust you. But don’t worry, won’t be anything I haven’t seen before, princess.” he shrugs and tilts his head. His eyes gesture at the robe as he awaits for her to slip it off her body.

Ingvild chews the inside of her cheek with the fury that courses through her veins. He seeks to humiliate her even more, to show her again how little power she has.

But men are fools, a woman has more power over a man, especially when she is naked. She doesn’t mind what he sees and if he likes it or not anyway. Also, nervousness is not in her spectrum of emotions.

The white cotton robe falls off her body, landing at her feet with a soft thud. There she is standing completely bare before the man who tried to murdered her and who for some sick, twisted, megalomaniac reason nurtured her back to life.

Unlike last night, he has the freedom to linger on what stands in his sight. Milky white skin, stretched taut over an apt figure. Athletic; formed by years of whatever combat training she has endured. There are no scars on her body save for the new one he gave her which is hidden behind gauze. The thought of letting her survive just so she can curse him every time she sees the hideous crescent scar is quite the temptation.

He further inspects her body, imagining cupping her small breasts in his large hands, they will not fill his palms completely, but it will suffice. He was always more into women’s behind and the rounded shape of her tight ass is indeed pleasing.

“As I said, nothing I haven’t seen before,” he speaks out, letting his gaze travel back to meet her face again.

She hisses through her nose, rolling her eyes as she walks inside the translucent room and turns the stream of the water to wash over her body.

The heat of the water immediately makes her groan loudly with pleasure; it echoes through the entire room. Her body is far more battered than she even realized, it feels as almost as if she is being redeemed, baptized, or whatever other religious allegories she could think of.

She leans against the wall for support with both her palms flat against the surface. Her back arches and she lets her head tilt back with her eyes tightly shut. The damp hair sticks to her spine, while she lets the droplets of water slide between her perky breasts and down her torso.

Sweet moans escape between her lips with every second, accompanying the water that soothe her aching muscles.

August can feel the fabric of his trousers tightening as blood stirs through the veins of his cock. She squirms beneath the stream, moving so sensually while making these “fuck me” noises all too clear. It’s meant to tease and provoke him. He is tempted to march in there and fuck the living hell out of her.

Fucking her to death, now that one I haven’t tried before.

“Enjoying the show?” she asks, turning to face him while the water trickles down her back. She can see the hardness in his groin, growing larger and larger with every second she stands there wet and naked.

“I am, actually,” he answers, not bothering to hide his desire.

She turns to face the shower tap, one hand plastered to the wall while the other leisurely runs down her chest. Smooth and slick, she allows it to circle her breast, making sure August can see how her finger brushes the hardening peachy nipple before descending along her flat torso.

His breath becomes rigid, his eyes furiously focusing on how she praises her own body. Her lids are half-hooded, hazy with lust and her mouth is reddening and slight swelling as she bites into her plush lips with delight. He dares, taking a step closer, allowing himself to have a better view of the show.

It is for him after all, is it not?

Tender and slow like honey, she lets her fingers creep between her thighs. In her mind, she fancies larger hands taking control over her body. A man’s hands, hands that are rough and callous, counter to how she is built, yet they caress her gently, working their way up between her inner thighs and spreading her open.

A feverish moan escapes her tightened lips as her fingers rub against her clit. She opens her eyes with her head thrown to the side. Giving August a lustful stare, cruel and full of snide she begins working herself with sensual strokes. She can feel her own wetness, thick and oily against her delicate fingers.

August’s nostrils flare, the bulge in his groin now enormous and aching for release.

Does she think she is torturing him? Does she even know men?

He inches closer toward the shower, close enough until so his hand can touch the glass which is now covered with tiny droplets of water and a thin layer of steam. His hand falls toward the zipper of his trousers, letting it sink before reaching out to pull his erect cock.

There is a smitten look upon her face, and an unpleasant chill runs through her spine as if she is intimidated by the sheer sight of him. Obviously, he is very much aware of how impossibly large he is. She gathers he is used to the look she is giving him, knowing exactly what’s going through her mind.

“Why are you stopping then, princess?” he asks with a cocky smile, his large hand wraps around the base of his hard cock, immediately beginning to stroke while eliciting deep, low groans.

Ingvild finds it surprisingly arousing, unable to help herself but stare at how his fingers engulf the fleshy shaft, feeling herself throb at the sight of the thick bulging veins and the ridges that run across his erection. When she started this little game it was in order to abuse him. But now, there is a certain desperation in her spiteful urge.

Looking at him as if driven to insanity, she lets her fingers massage her mound with increasing force, hard yet slow while her thumb traces the engorged nub. With every intent to let him see what he cannot take, she leans against the wall and parts her legs wide for him, letting him see her pink cunt and how her fingers play and tease while her other hand moves to squeeze her breast.

Her mind escapes into fantasies again, to urge the tingling sensation that burns between her thighs. Betrayed by lust, it’s him that she sees, holding her down as he did the night before, only that instead of trying to kill her he tears off her panties and splits her flesh open with his enormous cock.

The yelp that escapes her mouth is barely human, the image triggering something dark and unfamiliar and despite its wrongness now all she can think of is him.

August, on the other hand, is anything but inclined to indulge this. Pumping his cock urgently, he imagines pounding the little valkyrie against the wall, his grunts so low and loud he is certain the neighbours renting the room nearby can hear.

‘Have you ever fucked an undead girl? Imagine how sweet that wet little cunt must be after coming back to life… milking around you as if you are her saviour, your cock a gift sent from heaven…’

‘Or hell.’

Leaning his forehead against the glass, his breath leaves a veil of steam against the surface while he glances at Ingvild climbing toward her climax.

“Fuck!” She shudders, trying to fight the burning image of him in her mind, but these forbidden fantasies continue to assail her; all the different ways he could take her, exploit and humiliate her. How his body would feel atop of hers while he holds her down and hammer her into the floor.

Her battle wanes, heat spills between her legs as she falls into dark euphoria.

Seeing her arch against the tiles, naked and showered by ecstasy, his control finally snaps. August slams a hand against the glass, spourting white ribbons of cum all over the surface.

‘Oh to see her die and then burst with life…’

They stand in front of one another, both with heaving chests and frowning faces.

Finally, she turns the stream off and opens the glass door while August tucks himself back in. Apparent sweat covers his forehead while his chest is still heaving. She crouches to grab the robe, wearing it again while moving next to him with a teasing look on her face.

Although her legs feel feeble, the adrenaline made the blood kickstart her body again, her heart pumping with excitement as life returned to her system. She pushes past August scornfully, letting him follow her as she walks out of the bathroom.

He grabs her elbow, shooting her a warning glare. “Where do you think you are going?”

She tries to fight him but his grip is fierce and she is too weak.

“You are still a prisoner here,” he warns her and begins to lead her back to the bedroom and toward the bed while grabbing more rope on the way. He notices once again how she desperately seeks her personal belongings, gun, and phone.

“Don’t bother, angel, it’s all in the bottom of the lake.”   

______________________________________________

Disclaimer: I don’t own Mission Impossible or August Walker

[rai-wick]

Gally x Reader Chapter 25: The scorch

Y/N' S P.O.V

"Come on!" We bolted up towards the fences "Come on, go! Go! We'll lose them in the storm!" We slid behind a sandy bank and watched the soldiers ride along on motorcycles.

"Okay, everybody, go go go. Stay low! Stay low!"Thomas whispered as we crouched "Teresa, hang on. Stay together"

"I think we lost them"Minho yelled.

"Keep going guys!"

"Watch out! Where are we even going?"

"Come on, Aris. Let's go. Come on!"

"Over here!" I put my arm to my face to block the winds, spotting a glass building of some sort.

"Come on!"Teresa ran towards it.

"No Teresa don't!" I ran after her. She looked down into a gaping hole and slid down.

"Get down here!"I cautiously followed her with Minho following me.

"Can you hold this?"I nodded as Minho riffled through his bag for a flashlight and turned it on. He shone it around the room, checking for dangers "Where the hell are we?"

"We gotta go"Thomas gestured for us to keep moving "We-ve got-"

"No! Thomas stop!" Teresa shouted making us all turn to her "Tell me what's going on"Thomas sighed as we all huddled.

"It's WICKD. They lied to us. We never escaped. Me and Aris, we found bodies. Too many to count"

"What do you mean? Dead bodies?"Minho whispered in shock.

"No, but they weren't alive either. They had them strung up. With tubes coming out of them"I ran a hand over my face as he continued "They were...They were being drained. There's something inside of us that WICKD wants. Something in our blood. So we have to get as far away from them as possible"

"Okay"Newt sighs"So, what's the plan?"

"You do have a plan right?"I crossed my arms as Thomas shook his head slightly.

"Yeah, I don't know"

"Well, we followed you out here, Thomas, and now you're saying you have no idea where we're going or what we're doing" Newt told him, the shake in his voice evident.

"Wait, Janson said something about people hiding in the mountains"Aris spoke "Some kind of resistance or army"

"The Right Arm"Thomas said. For some reason that name sounded vaguely familiar,  "The Right Arm. If they're really against WICKD, maybe they can help us"

"People" Newt looked from Aris to Thomas"In the mountains? Mountain people? That's your plan?"

"It's the only chance we have" We were interrupted by Winston who called out.

"Hey guys, come check this out"We went over to where we was kneeling "Minho, gimme a light" We saw footprints in the sand "Someone's been down here"We cautiously walked down and peered into a run down shop door. Minho shone his flashlight in before pulling the door open. We carefully explored the area.

"Looks like people lived here"Minho held up a dusty shirt.

"Where are they now?"I wondered aloud, gazing around with a flashlight.

"Let's pack some of this stuff up"Thomas dusted off a hoodie and pulled it on "Anything you think you might need. We'll split up, see what else we can find. Meet back here" Newt threw him a flashlight before Minho, Thomas, Winston and  Aris left. I checked boxes for anything useful but found nada.

"Hey _____"I looked up as Newt approached me "I think you might need this"He handed me a switchblade that was quite similar to the one I lost in the Glade. I wiped the dust off before smiling back at him.

"Thanks Newt"He patted my shoulder as I heard Theresa gasp.

"You alright?"He called out to her.

"I'm fine"We heard her reply. I packed some clothes, a spare flashlight,a few empty water bottles and some sheets that could be used as bandages. I saw Frypan look over to where Teresa was pulling on a shirt.I rolled my eyes as Newt turned Frypan's face back to his bag with a grin.

"What?" We finished packing as the lights flickered on. I slipped the blade into my pocket and we walked out, meeting up with Winston and Aris.

"What's going on?" Winston's question was answered by Thomas and Minho's yelling.

"Run!"We saw them sprinting towards us following by growling creatures.

"Oh shit!"Newt exclaimed and we ran.

"Thomas, Minho, what the hell are those things?"I shouted as we darted up the broken escalators.

"I don't know, just keep going!" We turned onto the floor but halted as one charged towards us. Aris ran at at it with a bat, hitting it in the legs and knocking it over. It leaped at Teresa and Thomas, separating them from us as the others arrived behind us.

"Go around, we'll meet you there!"I nodded and climbed the other escalators. Thomas and Teresa came running down the line of shops as we climbed up.

"Come on!"We looked for an exit. I heard a crash behind me and saw one of them on top of Newt.

"Newt!"I ran to him and kicked the creature through the railing "Are you alright?"I helped him up.

"Yeah, thanks ____"He gasped.

"Through here! Let's go! They're coming!"We turned into a narrow passage way. Thomas pulled at a door to no avail.

"Just keep going!"Frypan yelled as the creatures came through.

"It's a dead end!"Minho groaned as we faced an empty wall. I banged on the chained door.

"Get us out of here Thomas!"Teresa cried out.

"This one!"I yelled, gesturing for help.

"I'll hold them back!"Winston fired at the creatures while we pushed against the door "Get that door open!"He hollered as the creatures came closer.

"Move!"Frypan made a running jump and burst the lock "Come on! It's open!" I grasped Winston's arm, running through before being yanked back as one of them got hold of him.

"Winston!"

"Help me!"We all grabbed him and pulled while Minho and Thomas tried to shut the door. He screamed as the creatures dug their claws into his stomach. We finally got a hold of him and Frypan helped him up.

"Go go!"Thomas shouted and we sprinted with him following moments later.

"Over there!"I pointed to a grove hidden underneath the rubble and we all slid under, switching off our flashlights, hardly daring to breathe.

~THE NEXT MORNING~

"Hey, hey! Get outta here!"I woke up to Thomas yelling. Groaning, I got up from where I was squashed between Minho and Frypan.

"Are they gone?"Newt asked as we got up.

"Yeah, I think we're safe for now" I grimaced and stretched, easing my bones awake.

"We should get moving"Winston let out a deep groan as he tried to move.

"Hey man"Frypan held a hand out to him "You okay?"Nodding, he got up. I handed him his bag with a soft smile.  We climbed up and saw the wasteland ahead of us. There were buildings in ruins, covered in overgrown yet dried out plants and sand. We began making our way through.

"What the hell happened to this place?"Frypan asked as we walked.

"I don't know"Newt replied"It doesn't look like anyone's been here in a long time"

"I hope the whole world's not like this"Aris added. I sighed in agreement.

"Whoa, whoa! Hang on, stop"I looked back to see Thomas at a stand still "Do you hear that?" The wind whistled as we heard the whirring of helicopter blades "Get down! Everybody hide! Hide! Hide!" We scrambled under a fallen block of cement, watching as 2 small planes and a large helicarrier passed by.

"They're never gonna stop looking for us, are they?" Minho said, his tone heavy. We climbed onwards, looking for an exit out of the city.

"A little further guys"We climbed a sand dune, panting as we reached the top. I saw the outline of mountains amongst the ruins of the city.

"Those mountains, that's gotta be it"I told them.

"That's where we're going"Thomas nodded.

"That's a long way off"Newt pointed out.

"Then we better get moving"I concluded. Just as we were about to continue, Winston fell down in a faint.

"Winston!" He was gasping for air as we crowded around him.

"He's hurt pretty bad"

"What do we do?"Teresa asked. Thomas stood up and stared into the distance before grabbing some sticks.

"______, have you got rope?"I dug through my bag and handed him the rope. I helped him make a makeshift bed for Winston, lining it with clothes, using his bag as a pillow. Aris and Teresa layed Winston down inside it.

"We'll take it in turns to bring him, alright?"We all nodded in agreement.

"I'll take the first turn"Frypan picked up one side.

"Me too"Minho grabbed the other handle. I picked Minho's bag up and strapped it to mine. We continued walking on towards the mountains.

"Hang in there Winston" We walked for what seemed hours until the winds began to get harsh, the sand blowing around, making us cough and wince even with our scarfs on.

"We gotta find shelter!"Thomas shouted, carrying Winston with Newt at the front and Minho and Frypan at the back.

"Follow me!"I put my arm in front of my face as we made our way to a pile of rocks and an over turned rusted car. We laid Winston down and got some rest, waiting for the wind to calm down. I gulped down my water, watching Thomas and Teresa talk.

"How's it looking?"Newt asked them.

"It's a little further"Thomas replied.

"That's not very convincing"I looked back at the feverish Winston and sighed deeply.

"It's going to be okay"Frypan's voice making me turn back. I swallowed and nodded. We sat in a comfortable silence until we heard a gunshot. We jumped, turning to see Winston holding a gun to his mouth.

"Hey! Guys, get down here!"I yelled to Teresa and Thomas while running to Winston.

"Winston, what are you doing man?"

"Give me that!"

"What's going on?"Thomas asked, rushing over.

"What happened?"

"I don't know"Frypan replied "He just woke up and grabbed the gun and then he tried to..._"

"Give it back, please"Winston was on all fours, panting and reaching out for the gun in Frypan's hand.

"Winston, are you okay?"I knelt beside him just before he retched onto the ground. He coughed before laying on his back, taking shaky breaths.

"It's growing..."He pulled up his shirt to reveal a blackened stomach covered in claw marks"...inside me" I bit my lip in worry as he shook his head "I'm not gonna make it. Please, please" He reached his arm out "Don't let me turn into one of those things" Frypan turned the gun over in his hand. We all stared at him then Newt took the gun from Frypan.

"Wait, Newt..."Thomas began. Newt walked to Winston, crouched beside him and placed the gun in his hand.

"Thank you"He whispered in a hoarse tone "Now, get out of here"

"Good-bye Winston"He got up and picked up his bag. Frypan patted his best friend's shoulder before turning away. I smiled softly at Winston to which he gave a weak one in return. I hugged Frypan tightly before we walked away. We had travelled a good distance before we heard a ringing gunshot. We stopped in our tracks once again being reminded of what freedom costs.

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

[yn-dreamlife]

Can you hear me?

Bakugo Katsuki x reader (hero name: Elementas)

Quirk: Quantification of Emotions (shorten to QoE), basically whatever emotion your feeling strongest (out of six) will allow you to control that element. Your hair also changes to that color. 

Emotions: 

Anger, vivid red, wind

Sadness, pastel blue, water

Longing/Love, white, light

Happiness, pink, fire

Loneliness, black, darkness

Confusion/Anxiousness, green, earth  

Summary: There was a villain attack and as your about to die you think of your last words to Katsuki.

warings: yelling, swearing, angst, like ANGST, character death, blood, villan attack, blood, depression, fluff?

Song: Train Wreck, James Arthur  (I hope that works, I've never done this before) 

Word count: 3206

Laying in the silence Waiting for the sirens Signs, any signs I'm alive still

Coughing I look around me. “Wha-” I place a hand on my forehead feeling a liquid underneath my palms. “What’s happening?” I speak as my ears ring and I see a red fluid on my hand. 

I look around and see the chaos around me. All around me is ruble, I can't see an inch of sky. I look around seeing the dust flying around the air, the small fire scattered around trying to find anything amongst the concrete to consume and stay alive with. 

At least I can't see any civilians around me, thats a good sign. As I continue to assess my surroundings, even with my blurry vision and ringing ears know that the villain is gone, or at least not near me. 

When I finally look down at my own body I wince. There was a giant metal rod sticking out of my abdomen, I guess the adrenaline must be preventing the full brunt of the pain. As I look at it and see the amount of blood being lost I know I won't be saved. 

I don't wanna lose it I'm not getting through this

Tears well in my eyes as the regret swims into my heart. I don't want to die like this. I don't want to die not knowing if everyone is safe. I don't want to die not knowing if Katsuki is okay. I don't want to die in pain. 

Of course every hero knows the risk, we’ve known since we where in high school. But it doesn't mean anyone actively wants this to be there way out. 

Everyone deep down hopes for a peaceful death. Or at least to die with those we love. 

Hey, should I pray? should I pray To myself? To a God? To a saviour who can Unbreak the broken

What if I could make it? What if I scream loud enough? Can I even scream right now? And even if I can who's to say it'll get to the surface? And I would want them to get the civilians first. “Damnit!” I try to yell but all I can manage is a weak whimper. 

“I should be stronger than this!” I said as my throat constricted. ‘God I sound just like Suki.’ the thought of him makes my heart clench. ‘I shouldn't have said all those things. I shouldn't have-’ I was swept up in the memory of my last conversation with him. 

Unsay these spoken words Find hope in the hopeless

“Jesus y/n what is wrong with you?!” He screamed at me. “Like can you calm the fuck down for once?!” 

I scoffed at him whirling around on him. “I need to calm down?! Don’t you tell me to calm down!”

“You're the one who started all of this!” He screamed at me. 

“And you’re the one who flirts with other people!” I fire back. 

He scoffs again, “I wasn't flirting with her! It’s not my fault you're so insecure that you think that you shitty woman!” 

My face drops slightly more sadness seaping into my heart. “Why do you think im so insecure Kasuki? You call me shitty woman every other sentence! You talk about how great other girls are and how strong they are! You-” 

“You know thats just how I am! And I don't talk about them romantically im taking about them from a hero stand point! Shouldn't you be happy now that I don't look down on every single person!” He screamed his quirk popping off in frustration. 

“Yeah I know thats how you are but it still an hurt me you dick! And it’s different when those girls are clearly in love with you!” he scoffs “If you tell me they aren't I swear to god you must be really blind!” I scream again. 

“Of course I don't notice because why would I when I have a girlfriend!|?!” He screams. 

“Do you?!” I shout the words spilling out of my mouth. “Because it doesn't always feel like you want to!” his next words break my heart. 

“Maybe I don't!” I watch his face drop the second the words leave his mouth. “y/n- wait I didn't-” But I cut him off as my alarm goes off. 

“I have to go to work. At least I know they need me.” I whisper bitterly. 

“Y/n wait! We can't leave it like this!” he calls frantically after me. 

“You never had a problem leaving me heartbroken before. Why care now?” and with that I got in my car driving away as the tears streamed down my face. 

Pull me out of the train wreck Unburn the ashes

When I got to work I quickly dismissed anyone at my hero agency as they asked what was wrong. I even ignored Kirishima, who was one of my best friends. “Go ask you ‘Bakubro’” I muttered bitterly at my fellow hero. 

I looked to my side kick, she was nice. She wasn't a cocky self assured teen like me and my classmates where. Both me and her quickly left to patrol. I was happy when she started rambling about the latest guy she found an interest in instead of asking me what was wrong. 

Not that I didn't appreciate my colleagues concern I just didn't want to think about it. Or I didn't want to talk about it, theres no way im not thinking about it. Even now, I couldn't help but tune out my sidekick/intern as my thoughts where consumed with my final words. 

“You never had a problem leaving me heartbroken before. Why care now?” Damnit I know thats not true and yet I still said it. Katsuki always at least texts me after wards, and he’s never left without muttering some form of I love you. I moved to pull out my phone when I suddenly heard screaming. I look up to see five of our most wanted villians up ahead wreaking havoc. I stop my phone Turing to my intern who looks ready to fight.    

Unchain the reactions, I'm not ready to die, not yet Pull me out of the train wreck Pull me out, pull me out, pull me out

”No.” I said placing a hand on her shoulder. She looks at me shocked as I continue. “I need you to help civilians.” 

She hesitates,”But I can help-” 

“I know but these guys are to strong. Please trust me, I want you making it out of this alive. Go help the civilians. If you have to I give you my permission to use your quirk for defense and defense only. Do you understand?” No response 

“Minako!” she stares at me “Please, you're like my kid, don't make me beg.” Tears well in her eyes and she nods before running off and I run onto the scene.

I should have known the second I asked her not to fight that this wouldn't end well. I should of said something to him before I left. I should have- 

  Pull me out, pull me out Underneath our bad blood We still got a sanctum, home Still a home, still a home here

I was pulled from my thoughts as coughs ripped there way through my throat. the pain in my stomach worsening. Was I really going to die like this? Filled with regrets and what ifs? 

No. I still have people to live for. I still have things I need to do, things to say. A man to kiss and marry and love all I can do know is hope. 

‘Please, damnit if someone is out there please help me. I know I don't pray enough, hell I know I don't deserve this but god damnit Im selfish. Im selfish and I want to live longer. I want to get married and have kids. I want to at least kiss him one last time. I don't even have to live, just let me hear him say I love you one last time. let me hold him again.’ 

As these thoughts consumed me I didn't notice the light blooming around me becoming brighter and brighter. 

It's not too late to build it back 'Cause a one-in-a-million chance Is still a chance, still a chance

“Y/N!!” I heard someone scream. “Y/n baby hold on!” he screamed again. My light glowed brighter. 

“Katsuki!” I cried. 

“Thats right! Im here princess I’m gonna get you out of there okay?!” I dint respond knowing he wasn't really answering. 

“Hurry Deku please!” Deku was here? after a moment he spoke again “Riot! Cellophane! Thank god you are here! Please you have to help me I can't blast through the rubble I might crush her!” He cried frantically. 

I saw some rubble begin falling next to me and screamed on instinct. “Oi be careful!!” He screamed. 

“Ground zero!” I heard a familiar voice. 

“S-sensei?!” 

‘What? Easers here? But- he's retired.’ 

“You need to stop shouting, your friends are here trying to help you. We both know they mean her no harm.” I can only assume he nodded because there was no more shouting, but there was also no more anything. Not a single sound. 

And I would take those odds Unbreak Unsay these spoken words

“H-Hello?” I called 

“Don't worry Y/n-chan we’re still here!” I heard deku yell. I sighed relieved. 

“Y/n!” I heard red riot or as I know him Kirishima call out. “Pop quiz whats Eraser heads child named?!” He yells out, and confusion builds in me. 

‘What? He has a kid? Oh my god is the kid here?!’ I thought anxiously. 

“Now!” I hear cellophane or Sero scream and before I knew it the rubble was being ripped away but I saw some coming towards me before I could think I manipulated the earth around me into a ball. 

“Yes!” I heard them all collectively say, except for katsuki. 

“Y/n! You're okay its okay!” He said as I placed the earth back and he ran over to me. He went to touch me but stopped short. “Oh god, princess!” he exclaimed looking down at my abdomen. 

Find hope in the hopeless Pull me out the train wreck 

“We need some help over here! Anyone who has a strong healing quirk get over here now we have a hero down!” He screamed but I didnt care about the pain, I didnt care about the medic. All I cared about was him. 

“You came.” I whispered he looked to me and cupped my cheek. 

“Im always gonna come for you.” He said softly smiling down at me as tears leaked from both our eyes.  

“Im sorry.” I whimper out and he shakes his head. My eyes begin feeling heavier. 

“no no no!” he says shaking me slightly “Don't apologize just keep your eyes open for me, yeah?” 

“Can you hold me?” I whisper. 

“I can't move you if I do-” 

“Please suki, I want to feel you hold me one last time.” I whimper my eyes getting heavier. 

                                                                                       Unburn the ashes Unchain the reactions, I'm not ready to die, not yet

“Well then I have great news, and that’s the fact that I’ll hold you for the rest of our lives but I can't move you princess.” I shake my head smiling sadly. 

“Katsuki.” I hear a soft voice whisper and look to see a teary eyed Kirishima.

“N-no!” he screams at him. “She’ll be fine!” he looks to me now. “you’ll be fine!” I shake my head my hair turning a murky blue. 

He relents and eventually very quickly pulls me off of the pipe. But I don't make a sound, I don't even wince. I don't feel the pain at all my body to numb.  

Pull me out the train wreck Pull me out, pull me out, pull me out Pull me out, pull me out, pull me out                                                              

I smile as he pulls me into his arms, “Thank you.” I whisper. 

“Anything for you princess.” He cups my cheek and wipes the tears that are still slipping from my eyes. 

“Im sorry.” we say in unison. 

“I shouldn't have been so insecure.” I whisper, and he shakes his head.  

“No baby no. I shouldn't have been so insensitive and I shouldn't have said what I said. I never question my love for you, or me wanting to be with you.” He says placing his forehead on my own. 

“I love you.” I whisper. 

a sob leaves his throat. “I-i love you too.” he sobs holding me to him. I try to lift my hand but I can't. I feel a gentle material curling around my wrist and pulling it around his neck. I look to see Mr. Aizawas capture weapon I smile up at him. 

“Damnit where are they!” Katsuki yells pulling away from me. I see a team frantically running to us but before they get to me I feel my eyes growing to heavy. 

“Be happy...Suki” I whisper as the darkness envelops me. 

You can say what you like 'cause see, I would die for you

I, I'm down on my knees and I need you to be my God Be my help, be a savior who canUnbreak the broken

Katsuki watches as you eyes close, “N-No!” He screams. “Hurry up , please!” He calls out to the people who run impossibly quicker. Once they get there and he has to place you down he automatically wants to hold you again. But he's held back and he sees its Deku who’s holding him back. 

He wants to rip his hand off of him but he can't find the strength in himself so he relents and allows the freckled boy to pull him away. He sees his red haired friend and doesn't hesitate to accept the hug he gives him. 

he balls his hands against the gears of his friends hero costume. “Damnit kiri I can't lose her!” he sobs. No one says anything, theres nothing they can say. No words can comfort the fiery blonde except for your own.  

but he does pull away from his friend as he sees them placing you on a gurney and begin rushing away. 

“Wait!” he calls after them. 

“Sir you can't come with us you have to meet us there its to risky!” A female medic says as sets pumping oxygen into your lungs. 

“I can drive you!” He hears a voice behind him say quickly. He turns to see who only to see your side-kick Minako. He nods and quickly runs to her car. 

The drive there was silent, he isn't even mad at her which shocks both of them. She breaks the silence whispering, “She begged me to help the civilians.” he nods still remaining silent. “I should have- I should have been there.” just then a sob rips through her throat. 

Katsuki looks to her remaining silent for a long moment. “She would have been devistated if you had you gotten hurt.” he whispers. 

“huh?” she glances over to him quickly before looking back to the road. 

“she talks about you all the time, she feels a motherly bond to you.” he whispers. 

“s-she was serious about that?” She asks wiping her cheeks.

“Yeah, maybe because she never had a mother figure or maybe because you remind her so much of herself. But she does, and I know she's tankful for all the civilians you helped save.” The girl nods smiling softly.  

Unsay these reckless words (find hope in the hopeless) Pull me out of the train wreck

When they arrive to the hospital they both quickly run to the front desk. 

“Elementas, I need to know what room elements is in!” Bakugo cries. 

“Mr. Ground zero sir you can't see her yet.” the nurse states standing up and stopping him from running off. 

“Why the hell not?!” He screams fist firing off slightly.

“She had to go straight into surgery.” the woman states calmly. Bakugo grunts as he sits down. 

twenty minutes later the same nurse approaches. “Sir they've already set up her room you tow may wait for her there but when they ask you to leave you-” before she could finish Minako interrupts. 

“Understood.” she says quickly. The nurse nods giving them the number and they make there way there. 

It was another half hour when Kirishima showed up with a spare change of clothes for Bakugo and offered to drive Minako home so she could rest. She only left when he promised to keep her updated. He changed into his civilian clothes before he finally sat down on the chair next to the bed you would soon be in and before he knew it he was asleep. 

Unburn the ashes Unchain the reactions, I'm not ready to die, not yet

When he woke he looked around confused but he perked up when he saw a nurse. “Sir we need to get her settled and then you can come back in.” He nods quickly heading back t the waiting room. The quicker he left meant the sooner he would see you. 

It was fifteen minutes later when a doctor approached him. “How is she? Is she okay?” He asks anxious. 

“she sustained grave injuries. A head wound which concussed her. Five broken ribs, a punctured lung. Not to mention the damage from the pipe in her abdomen. But other than these things she is fine.” The doctor said as he walked away. Katsuki quickly made his way back to your room as he saw your eyes blink open. 

Pull me out of the train wreck Pull me out, pull me out, pull me out Pull me out, pull me out, pull me out

“Y/n!” he called happily. You looked pail, and honestly an inch from death, but never in his life had he been so happy to see you. 

You smiled at your boyfriend as he walked into the room. “Suki.” You whispered holding a hand out to him. He quickly came to your side taking it and covering it in kisses before moving up your arm and kissing your face. He placed a loving kiss on your lips before placing his forehead on your own. 

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again.” He whispered. 

You chuckled but winced. “easy there princess your ribs might not be happy with you for a while.” he says cupping your cheek and you nodded. It was a long day between all the visitors. Wether it was a crying Minako who had heart felt apologies and confessions with you. Or a group of your former classmates coming to make sure you where alright. Or even a soft spoke Mr. Aizawa who came once Katsuki had left to get you and himself some food. 

By the end of the day you where exhausted and you where more than happy to allow your boyfriend to carefully lay next to you only intertwining your legs and holding your one hand with his own while the other rested on your cheek. 

“Hey y/n, what you said about me being happy,” Katsuk whispered and you hummed for him to keep going. “I’m going to be... with you.” with a soft exchange of I love you’s and a sweet kiss after that you where both asleep.