#or that he used to react in action and violence like getting into fights with people instead of being a cowardly observer

[fairystarstorm]

Thinking about what's going wrong with Arcane s2

I have not finished s2 yet (still need to finish act 3 but basically got all the major spoilers). I feel like a big problem with this season and why the Z vs P conflict fizzled out is that so many characters are simply not in the that narrative anymore. Especially since they all had interesting stories to explore in regards to it. And if they are apart of the plot line, the things that would make things more interesting are simply ignored.

Taken from the narrative

Heimdinger: the founder of the city realising that the society he built ain't shit and that he failed Zaun by not helping to uplift and protect them (instead of just picking out a pupil from Zaun and calling it a day). All that Talk about how destructive magic could be in the wrong hands while realising he build a society filled with those exact wrong hands because of his inaction. Him actually putting in the work to change and dismantle those structures and belief systems that he allowed to grow in the first place

Jace: He goes against his own morals once again to build weapons for Caitlyn and her team. But we get none of the introspection or the regret that should have gone with it. Why because he is off in an alternative reality fighting for his life. He finds out that Hextech is poisoning Ekko's tree and there's nothing more to that conversation?? If something had gone wrong with the core it could have destroyed Zaun? Something could have happened that could have disabled or killed many others like it did with Viktor. But let's gloss over it. Him reconciling with his actions as a councilor??? That kid really was just a blip in his life i guess.

Viktor: a big problem I feel with Viktor's character is that he can feel very removed from Zaun at times. Like we never got to see his horror about Hextech being used against his people. We never got to know about any family or how he actually felt about being resurrected. What his plan was for Zaun beyond making a little commune. A huge part of that is also because they barely let this man have meaningful interactions with anyone in s2 besides ghost Sky and Jace. Vi, Jinx, Vander and Isha going to his commune could have been a possibility for that. Because even though I do believe that Vander and him did not know each other personally, I don't think he would not have known of him. Also we barely hear him talk meaningfully about his identity as a Zaunite in Piltover

Ekko (and the firelights in general): In my opinion the biggest snub. The others character arcs were mostly about other things in s1 (piltover politics, hextech etc.) but Ekko's whole motivation was to protect his ppl from both the enforcers and Silco. However we didn't get to see him deal with the rise of enforcers in the undercity or Sevika being the one to try and unite Zaun. We didn't get to see him grapple with the fact that Vi became an enforcer or that he was wrong to place his trust in Caitlyn. And even though I love how ep7 is highlighting his good qualities I wish they were explored in his timeline. Him being there would have also allowed for more spotlights for the firelights and Zaunites in general. None of the other people in the cast (Except for Vander) are as involved with regular people in Zaun then he was. It makes Zaun feel less complex and lived in beyond the visuals.

Mel: Considering that they are setting up her mother as the true big bad (which flattened the Z vs P conflict + general bad writing surrounding ambessa which i won't discuss now), it would have been nice to have her be able to react. Like in the beginning of the season we get it a little bit with Mel using spies to figure out her mother's plans. We could have had her realise that Piltover is not fundamentally different from Noxus because of how easy it was for her mother to take over. Only that the violence they dish out is different between the 2 cities. We could have had her sit that in both cases she is part of the oppressive class and that she was only acting out of self interest rather than actually caring about these issues. Instead of her being Kidnapped to get powers, let her finish the story arch that had been set up for her in s1.

Underexplored

Sevika (And Jinx): her involvement with Silco and how that is seen by Zaunites that are not chembarons. Ppl being unwilling to trust or listen to Sevika pleading for united Zaun when she was apart of Silco's operations make sense. Silco brought shimmer into Zaun. Ekko says that a lot of the firelights joined because of how it ruined their lives. Sevika having to struggle with her role in it and how it ultimately makes it harder for the to reach her goal would have been satisfying! Also her showing up after episode 4 would have been nice in general. Also same with ekko, she was the only one who was reaching out and communicating with different groups of Zaun. She and Ekko were windows into Zaun society that they just kept closed for some reason.

Vi: Just everything man.... her trauma, her choosing to be an enforcer, her alcoholism... her relationship with Jinx/powder, her guilt, her role as protector who seems to be failing no matter what she does. All kinda of flushed through the drains for caitvi to be able to exist (yes i dislike caitvi, no i also don''t really care for jayvik or timebomb and i am also a lesbian).

Jinx: I thinks she has been done quite well so far but I have heard for how her arch ends and it is just bad..... also wished they explored Isha more and what Vander coming back would mean for Jinx

Caitlyn: wish they would actually put the responsibility of her actions onto her instead of Ambessa/Jinx killing her mom. Also the fact it was never addressed that even in s1 she was microagressive as fuck towards Zaunites. Yes she eventually saw the need for independence (after talking to Ekko mind you) but does that mean anything if when she was in power due was actively making things worse for Zaun. She could have started working kn redeeming herself but the fact that the narrative/the writers don't want to put the full blame on her just makes that idea seem laughable

Tbh a lot of it has to do with the fact that the writers didn't let characters interact with each other for long periods of time or deal with the consequences of their actions but hey at least the coplesbians fucked and the scientists had their madoka magica moment

[epiphainie]

i don't know who i will be when my glorified oc tommy kinard – who was an only child who lost his mother before he could even form memories, who grew up lonely and small in a big house with a scary man, who always saw his existence as a poor trade for his mother's, who ran away to the army thinking that could be his solace and companion only to lock himself in an oppressive hell of his own making, who used to play with toy planes and helicopters alone in a shadowy corner of a room, who used to feel indignant and miserable around the neighborhood kids then his army buddies then the boys club in lafd but couldn't do anything but just meekly watch, who on his days off would seek out old movie screenings in dingy theaters and treat the experience like the church and he was confessing his sins, who's well-oiled in keeping to a routine and dedicating himself to a purpose because his self-worth is heavily tied to blood sweat and tears, who spent most of his life filling his calendar with tasks and hobbies but has been aching to change it to the names of people who can one day be near and dear to his heart, who in his silence became keen-eyed and vigilant but does a great job projecting ease in any situation, who talks shortly and bluntly without any fuss or sappiness but always honest because he worked so hard to become someone who speaks up when necessary and means what he says every time, whose gaze always studies buck's face and in the smallest crease of his mouth or the crinkle in his eye he holds his entire fondness and care and fears and anxieties for this guy – gets challenged by canon...

[dceasesd]

why juni ba’s the boy wonder has my favorite jason characterization of any contemporary comic run: a needlessly in-depth analysis (pt.1)

oh boy oh boy am i excited for this one buckle up boys it’s gonna be a long one. analysis under the cut (WITH PICTURES!!)

i, like many others, have many thoughts and opinions about juni ba's the boy wonder that i'd like to express. i was having trouble formatting my rant, though, so i decided that it was easiest to just address some of the common complaints i've seen about the comic and jason's characterization and insert my ramblings throughout it. so far i've seen three main complaints:

the typical boiling down of jason's character to "the angry one"

his lack of strategy going into the fight with the demon is out-of-character

the neighbor's kid interaction

to start with the first one-- when introducing jason's character, in both the second and first issue, ba uses the descriptors "coarse", "bitter", "hardened", "brash" and, of course, "rageful".

so, yes-- i understand where people are having issues with this characterization. however, even if it's overplayed, it's still important to remember that jason is angry, and is driven, in part, by his anger at bruce and the joker. and, as ba highlights, he deserved to be! completely erasing jason's anger is just as bad as defining him with it.

i also don't think it's wholly accurate to say that ba is boiling jason down to just his anger. it might seem like that when only considering the dialogue and narration, but jason's behavior in the comic doesn't perfectly align with how the narrator describes him. while the narration describes him as "rageful" and could be an instance of generalization, jason's actions throughout the comic are more aligned with two other emotions/motivators: fear and despair. we never see jason get actually, properly angry; the closest we get is when he's seemingly annoyed by damian (which i believe could be performative) and when he becomes violent, accidentally hurting damian.

even in this instance, though, he is not driven to this violence by rage, but rather fear. so, while ba states in the narration that jason is driven by his anger, he contradicts himself by highlighting how jason's sadness and terror motivates his character. this could be interpreted as lousy writing on ba's part, but i'm not going to attribute the paradox to that inference. to me, it actually represents a critque of the "jason is the angry robin" generalization, because it calls to attention the discrepancies between how one is described versus reality, an issue that jason both faces in the comics (bruce using him as a cautionary tale when dying WASN'T HIS FAULT) and outside of the comics, as mentioned previously.

furthermore, this highlights the difference between what jason believes about bruce's perspective and bruce's actual perspective (according to damian). jason believes himself to be a "failure", but damian refutes this by describing his conversation with bruce concerning jason, a conversation that does not align with jason's belief. if you couldn't tell by now, perception versus reality is a BIG theme in this comic (and for jason's character in general!)

i was really fascinated by ba's take on jason, because it veered pretty far from a lot of contemporary comics, most of which do, unfortunately, play with the angry robin jason generalization. they've been doing a bit with his fear, too, which has either been pretty fun or the most awful thing ever (i'm looking at you zdarsky. gotham war was fucked up), but what makes ba's jason stand out to me is how he grapples with his grief.

this boy is so sad. ba's jason might actually be the saddest rendition of him i've seen in canon content. we've seen jason grapple a little bit with the despair rooted in his death and resurrection, mainly in lost days, where he cries 3 (?) times, fresh out of the pit and very traumatized.

even in this comic, though, he reacts to his grief with anger more prominently than sadness. that obviously doesn't mean the despair isn't there, though-- anger is just an easier outlet for it (which i could really get into the masculinity aspects of that, but then this would be wayyyyyy too long).

ba's jason, though? that motherfucker is so. sad.

christ he's depressing. AND THAT'S SUCH A FRESH PERSPECTIVE!!!!!!! THANK YOU JUNI BA!!!!!!

now i'm pretty sure some people would argue that this rendition in out of character because he's so sad. to me, though, he's still the same jason; he covers up his sadness with anger and pettiness, redirecting his own insecurities onto those around him to mask his true feelings.

ba quite literally illustrates this in the comic. whenever he is being his snide, normal self, he has his red hood mask on; but when he actually opens up to damian and expresses himself truthfully, the mask is off. ba is highlighting how the classic jason anger and bitterness is, in part, a performance and coping mechanism.

this post is already too long, so i'll go over the two other critques in a different post, which i will link below (eventually). if you guys have any thoughts you'd like to share or discuss, my dms and asks are completely open! if you made it this far, i hope you enjoyed my ranting. look out for another post soon! :))

part 2 / part 3

[dollishbabess]

HOW BATBOYS WOULD REACT WHEN YOU GET CATCALLED (IF YOU FOUGHT BACK OR DIDNT) - dollish

A/n: As someone who got a NAKED GUY chase them in Central Park once,it’s same to say I don’t go out at night and I have my reasons 😭😭 idk if you guys want a story time though (it’s in replies of comments)

Second divider @cafekitsune

Dick grayson:

If you fought back first:

Surprise and Concern Dick would be taken aback by your sudden action. “Whoa! I didn’t expect you to do that!” He’d rush in, concerned about your safety and the potential repercussions of your actions.

Supportive Reaction After the initial surprise, he’d be impressed by your boldness. “I admire the courage, but let me handle this next time. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Talk it Out He’d want to discuss what happened afterward, emphasizing that while he respects your willingness to stand up for yourself, he’d prefer to ensure your safety first. “You didn’t have to take matters into your own hands; I’m here for that.”

If you didn’t fight back:

Protective Instinct Dick’s protective nature would kick in immediately. He’d likely step in without hesitation, using both charm and assertiveness to diffuse the situation. “Hey! Back off!” Which surprisingly he doesn’t do physically fights as dick grayson but used to when he was younger.

Non-Violent Approach While he might be ready to fight if necessary, he’d prefer to use his words first. He’d try to make the perpetrators feel ashamed or embarrassed instead of escalating to violence.

Check-In Afterward, he’d check in with you to ensure you’re okay, offering support and reassurance. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that. Are you alright?” Would check you for any sign of discomfort or emotional distress.

Jason Todd:

If you fought back first:

Immediate Approval (YUHH THATS MY GIRLL) Jason would likely be thrilled by your boldness. “Damn, that was awesome!” He’d appreciate your willingness to fight back against disrespect and might find it incredibly attractive.

Reinforcing Behavior He’d stand beside you, ready to support you in case things escalated further. “I’ve got your back; let’s show them what we can do together.”

Post-Fight Confidence Afterward, he’d be all about boosting your confidence. “You didn’t back down. That’s badass. Just remember, you’re not alone in these situations.”

If you didn’t fight back:

Immediate Rage Jason would likely be furious upon witnessing the situation. His protective instincts would lead him to confront the catcallers aggressively. “You think you can just touch her like that? Get the hell away!” Would be so ready to pop a jaw out of place.

Fight Ready He wouldn’t hesitate to escalate to violence if the catcallers didn’t back off in a nano second, his past experiences fueling his anger towards disrespect since he grew up in the streets he’s seen how violent men are towards woman.

Aftermath Support Once it’s resolved, he’d focus on you, ensuring you feel safe and respected. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. You deserve better, let’s go home.” He’d say a bit annoyed but definitely mood wrecked and definitely made sure you saw stars that night.

Tim Drake:

If you fought back first:

Shock and Support (Like girl, you just did that?) Tim would be shocked at first, watching you throw the punch. “Whoa!” His concern for your safety would come first.

Strategic Thinking After the punch, he’d quickly assess the situation and help you strategize. “That was a bold move! But maybe next time we should come up with a plan together?”

Validation He’d validate your feelings and support your actions, understanding your need to stand up for yourself. “I get why you did that; nobody should have to deal with harassment. Just be careful!”

If you didn’t fight back:

Quick Analysis Tim would assess the situation quickly, evaluating how best to handle it. He might initially react with shock before stepping in.

Calm Confrontation He would confront the catcallers with a calm demeanor, using logic and authority to demand they stop. “That’s not cool; you need to leave her alone.”

Protective Move If the situation escalated, he wouldn’t shy away from physical confrontation, but he’d also prioritize your safety and try to de-escalate things first.

Supportive Afterwards Afterward, he’d want to talk about what happened, ensuring you feel heard and validated. “Are you okay? I can’t believe they thought that was okay.”

Damian Wayne:

If you fought back first:

Impressed but Concerned (BRO’S THROWING HANDS W YOU) Damian would be impressed by your courage but also worried about the consequences. “That was… unexpected. Are you certain you wish to engage in a fight?”

Protective Instinct He’d immediately stand next to you, ready to back you up if needed. “If they retaliate, I will not hesitate to defend you.”

Ownership of the Situation After the incident, he’d likely want to ensure you felt validated. “Your actions were brave, but remember that you must also consider your safety in these situations.”

If you didn’t fight back:

Immediate Intervention Damian would react with a sense of urgency, feeling that your honor was being challenged. He’d step in swiftly, ready to confront the aggressors. “How dare you lay a hand on her!”

Defensive and Fierce His fighting style would be aggressive, and he wouldn’t hesitate to take action if they didn’t back down. He views such disrespect as an affront not only to you but also to himself (he should be on baddies atp)

Possessive Nature After the confrontation, he’d likely be very protective, wanting to ensure you feel safe. “You should not have to endure such disrespect. Stay close to me next time.”

Bruce Wayne:

If you fought back first:

Initial Shock Bruce would be initially shocked by your reaction. “Y/N what are you doing!?!” He’d be concerned about the possible repercussions of such actions in a civilian setting.

Protective Reaction He’d quickly assess the situation, ready to step in if things escalated. “Let’s not make a scene. I’ll handle this.”

Serious Conversation Afterward, he’d want to have a serious conversation about your actions. “While I respect your need to stand up for yourself, it’s important to think about the consequences. Your safety matters most to me.”

If you didn’t fight back:

Calculated Response Bruce would remain calm and collected, assessing the situation before acting. He’d approach the catcallers with an air of authority, making it clear they need to back off.

Verbal Confrontation He might use his intimidating presence and voice to confront them. “You’re making her uncomfortable. Leave now, or you’ll regret it.”

Prepared for Escalation If they didn’t comply, he’d be ready to fight, using his combat skills effectively.

Caring Aftermath Once it’s over, he’d turn his attention to you, offering support and reassurance. “Are you alright? Let’s get you somewhere safe.” And would try to take your mind off it in any way he could.

Tbh all of them would fight for you, just some of them don’t throw hands first especially tim and Bruce.

This is for awareness purposes, thousands of women today around the world have to go through this and worse thousands of women and young girls and minors are being assaulted today, please teach and make a difference for the world today it could be anyone, your mother, sister, daughter, cousin, aunt, grandma etc.

[yandere-sins]

Monstober - Day 4: Harpy

I have a strange relationship with harpies. I really like them, especially since they are the mythical equivalent to my favorite animal—vultures—but also I guess they actually manage to horrify me for some reason... Ah, well, luckily I get a chance to write for them in this challenge :D

Prompt: Day 4: Harpy | Cliff // Flying // Illusion Warnings: Yandere, Fem!Reader, Implied Sexual Actions, Violence (Swearing, Implied Murder, Implied Death, Implied Animal Cruelty, Hunting, Animal/Monster Fighting), Monsters + Descriptions of Monsters, Long Post

"Be careful now, young'un. There's harpies roaming these fields."

Resting your head back, you let the hood of your cape free up some of your sight heavenwards. You watched the clamor of harpies flying high above the field you and the mercenary were crossing through. They were so far away they looked like little specks of feathers against the grey skies.

"Fuckin' breeding season. Every year it's the same shit. They just wait for some poor farmer's son to come out and whisk him away, fuck him till he's sucked dry, and eat him afterward."

Your lips curled into a small smile at the sound of the mercenary's foul choice of words. Although you didn't hire him for his raggedness or the threat of some usually easily slain harpies, you began to appreciate his no-shit attitude the longer you traveled together.

"By that logic, wouldn't you be more in danger?" you asked, referring to the difference in gender you two had. If the harpies were lusting after young men, then you, as a woman, had less to fear, you figured. But at the same time, with his grey hair and long beard, he probably wasn't on the dinner schedule either.

"Don't be so sure about that, young'un. I've seen beasts that were clearly lasses but had pricks closer to that of giants than any man has. Likewise, male monsters tend to prefer to hunt scarier prey than frail women like those from the villages where everyone is skin and bones except the workers. And they keep them as trophies and pets, doing unspeakable things to the men—and have the man do things to them. Monsters are not always what they seem."

"Why would they need a human then?" you questioned his words, but the mercenary only shrugged.

"Maybe they find their own as ugly as we think 'em to be."

You grimaced, unsure how to react to that information. You had always been sheltered by your family, not quite royalty, but wealthy enough that you'd be married off against your will unless you escaped far out of their reach. Luckily, your jewels and gold chains had managed to buy you a decent mercenary to help with your plans of running, finding a new home, and a new life far away from the expectancies.

"Why aren't they attacking us then? Surely, they see us."

"My, you have lotsa questions, young'un. You can't rationalize those monsters. Maybe they like other prey. Maybe they are just waiting for the right moment. Don't worry your pretty head off about why or why not, just enjoy not being eaten."

He clicked his tongue, spurning his horse forward, and you followed, worry tensing your back as you looked up again, noticing how the clamor now seemed much closer. You could even see individual feathers in the mass now. It was questionable whether drawing more attention with faster movement was a good idea. Still, you wanted to trust the mercenary and his years of experience.

"We're close now!" he yelled back to you. "Into the forest, and we'll be out of their sight!"

Pushing your heels into the side of your steed, you two fell into a speedy gallop. The hood of your coat kept falling over your eyes, but you tried your best to stay focused and keep up with your guide and protector. All you had to do to overcome this first hurdle was reach the forest, and you were so close to it, you could already smell the wood.

That was until the sudden sound of screams ahead of you made you push your hood off completely, just in time to see the silver of the mercenary's breastplate sparkling in the light as he wildly squirmed in the grasp of an enormous monster. He was yelling loudly, only drowned out by shrieking and cackling. Another feathery creature swooped down, and it was his horse next that was carried off, neighing and crying out helplessly, your breath hitching with panic as you rammed your heels into your own stead.

You were so close to the woods when a massive bird passed by just in front of your horse, the animal rearing upwards. You tried desperately to hold on, but when something gripped the horse by the neck, a sharp claw grazing your face, you lost your hold out of surprise, your body falling freely to the ground while your poor stead was carried off mercilessly.

Your head pounded with pain as it hit the dirty field, your bones aching as they tried to feather your fall. But luckily, you were pumped with adrenaline, sitting up before you even realized how much it hurt, blood dripping from your cheek.

"Hi."

The woman standing before you smiled, her eyes unblinking as her lips curled upwards. Your whole body halted in its tracks, your breath stopping. You felt yourself relax at the sight of her and then stiffen up completely, goosebumps pebbling your skin as you forced yourself to realize this couldn't be. Whatever she was, she wasn't human, appearing so suddenly. Instead, she must have been an illusion of the harpies—one of them.

She was, at best, a few steps away from you, at worse, too close to be able to escape. Her head cocked to the side just a little too far to be natural as she regarded you on the ground with unbreakable calm. The peace of a predator, someone who wasn't worried about getting hurt. Silently, you cursed your family for denying you to learn how to wield a sword or dagger. Any kind of self-defense, really. "It wouldn't be necessary," well, now it was. There were no signs of the chaos that had just unfolded, the sounds reduced to the wind softly swaying through the early sprigs of oats growing on the fields.

Don't answer, you cautioned yourself, knowing the best survival tactics when dealing with monsters was not dealing with monsters. You were already pretty vulnerable to the creature as it was; you didn't need to agitate her.

"Clever, are we?" she said, her lips splitting to reveal the teeth of the creatures you were most afraid of all of a sudden. Apparently, the harpies were not disinterested in you, something the mercenary probably hadn't thought about as he led you directly through their flock.

"And so pretty," the harpy chirped, her eyes raking over you as she cocked her head to the other side in a snap. "Want to go to the forest? You can."

Suspicion raised inside of you at her offer. Letting you go so easily? Even if she didn't want to take you away for mating, shouldn't her kind be interested in eating you?

"You'll let me go?" you asked, only realizing your mistake when it was too late, and you slammed your hand over your mouth. The harpies grin only widened, her mouth tearing open unnaturally wide.

"Yes, you can go. A darling girl like you shouldn't be around my sisters. They'd love to taste you."

Your chest was heaving heavily with panic as she spoke. You heard her coo sweetly as she watched you, her gaze dropping from your face all the way to your legs as if she were trying to rip you open and spill your guts with just her eyes. Delighted by the sight, hungry. And you felt so vulnerable under the scrutiny, her eyes on you beyond any look anyone had ever given you, dripping with her full attention and desire.

"Come back sometimes, okay? Let's play together? You're so pretty..."

You gulped. Never before had you heard the tale of a harpy letting someone go because they thought they were pretty. You dared to glance by her, looking at the woods that waited for you behind her form. It was so close, perhaps ten footsteps away, before you breached the edge of the forest.

With your breath escaping you, you staggered to your feet, trying to always keep your eyes on her. You stopped mid-movement as you heard the shuffling of her clothes. Clothes that you realized weren't from fabric at all. Just her convincingly placed feathers. It was scary how well she could imitate an ordinary woman if not for her sharp mannerisms and the way she fixated on you strangely. However, someone less aware and less familiar with the threat of harpies could have easily overlooked these features. Fallen for her illusion that only now started to dissolve as she began reacting to you.

Her wings appeared like a brown dress on her, with a mantle over her shoulders to cover up her lack of arms. Her legs were hidden well beneath the "skirt," and her brown locks perfectly framed what could pass as a pretty face in the city you were from. That was until she opened her mouth to shatter that facade.

"What?" she asked. "Do you think I'm pretty, too?"

It felt wrong to agree and give her more of your time than necessary. If she was well-disposed now, you didn't want to draw her ire. But at the same time, not answering seemed like it would cause her mood to sour, too. This time, instead of speaking, you nodded hesitantly, then firmly.

"Ah, I'm glad!" she hooted, and her "clothes" fluttered with excitement, feathers spreading outwards and destroying the illusion of her wings being garments. Something changed right before your eyes, but you couldn't pinpoint it. Even so, you were no longer fooled by her looks. She really was a monster before all else.

"Go," she cooed, leaning forward and hovering above you, her body now appearing much taller than before. "Before I keep you all to myself, you sweet, sweet thing."

Slowly, avoiding harsh movements, you finally came to a complete stand, realizing you were still at least three heads smaller than the harpy. You wouldn't let her out of your sight, and neither did she, you, as you began rounding her at a respectable distance. It wasn't enough distance to make you feel comfortable, as she could probably close it faster than anything else you knew. But it was your best bet.

She lets me go, just like that? you thought, still in disbelief. Feels like a trap.

But soon enough, your back was turned to the forest. A forest that, presumably, would keep you safe from the harpies if the words of the dead mercenary could still be trusted. He misjudged the situation once, but what were you supposed to do? Between the trees, you at least had the size advantage. Her wings fluttered again as she watched, cocking her head, hooting softly. Not moving from her spot.

Five more steps.

Four.

Three—

Your attention snapped away from her the second you heard the shriek of another monster approaching you from the side. You tumbled to the ground, feeling the force of the gust of wind its wings produced as you were thrown further away from the forest and onto the field, claws scratching you, ripping wounds into your sides. There was a match of voices as even more shrieking and hissing erupted, and you buried face down into the mud, shielding your head with your arms as movement and sounds accumulated right above you.

There must have been more than two harpies fighting above you, but you couldn't determine how many there were from your position. All you knew was that their claws sliced through the air just above your back, every one of them trying to get to you. Every one so close to hurting you—or worse.

"MINE!" one of them roared, and more shrieking occurred as a heavy, clawed foot landed on top of your back, pinning you to the dirty ground and pushing the air out of your lungs. "SHE'S MINE!"

The protest was apparent in the cacophony of sounds directed at the harpy above you, but the tumultuous movements slowly disappeared, only one body remaining. And suddenly, everything went dark, the foot on top of you slipping off until two feet were stomped into the ground on each of your sides.

You dared open your eyes again, trying to see what had happened and gauge how dead you were, but it was way too dark to see. A shudder went through what was blocking out the light, feathers fluttering aside just enough to let a spot of light in and show you were still on the dirty field. It made you realize that something was above you, shielding and enveloping you with its body.

"MINE!" the harpy shrieked again, the sound not directed at you, but it still shook your bones. "Mine," she repeated, this time calmer. You couldn't see, couldn't hear what was going on outside. But when her voice calmed, you could finally recognize it as that of the harpy you had spoken to. Even if her shrieks and caws were barely discernable to you, her voice remained the same.

She squawked a few more times into the direction of who knows where, your nerves completely blank as they couldn't get accustomed to the sounds, but now that the situation was calming down, the pain set in again, and you cursed it, willing it away only for it to blow up again inside of you.

Groaning, you braced yourself onto your arms, trying to lift from the ground, only to be met with the sharp sting of your sliced-up side. The wound was deeper than it had felt at first, and you let out a pitiful howl as you agitated it accidentally. You reckoned that your body was not okay after that attack, and you couldn't fathom how anyone could survive and mate these creatures when their claws did so much damage easily.

Turning onto your healthy side was the only thing you could think of to alleviate the pain temporarily, although the movement hurt so much more than if you had remained on your stomach.

"Oh no," the harpy cooed from above, and you spared her a glance from the one eye that was turned upwards. Her wings unfolded from each other, opening enough for her twisted neck to see through the gap, letting in some light and exposing her grotesque but real form. The legs of a bird, feathery and gnarly, the torso of a woman, and the face was a mix of both. No arms, just wings sprouting from her shoulders, and her hair a mess of feathers and twigs, nothing like the beautiful illusion she had shown you before.

"Poor, poor girl," she hooted, her expression ever so slightly drawing together in a meager display of unhappiness. "My sisters are so mean, aren't they? You were just trying to go to the forest."

You didn't acknowledge her with words as you bit your lip to stifle another sorrowful moan. Still, your body contorted, causing you to cry out in pain.

The harpy moved around you, circling you as she watched you restlessly, sweat and tears falling from your face as you couldn't even stop the bleeding with your hands full of grime and dirt. She danced around you awkwardly, keeping her wings up like a shield but letting in enough light to watch.

"You can't go like this now, can you? Can you? Poor, poor, pretty thing."

You heard her sigh, sounding oddly human, then she leaned down, poking you with the top of her wing where the bone spread to form the limb. Shockwaves of pain went through you as she agitated the wound by moving you, and you sobbed into the dirt, not knowing what to do. You couldn't communicate with her, couldn't tell her to fetch you a doctor. But if you stayed here like this, you'd probably be eaten sooner rather than later, and not unlikely by her.

Even as you cried, you used what little strength you had to sit up. The pain was unbearable, even as you clenched your jaws together tightly. But you were grateful when you felt one of her wings sweep beneath your back, helping you up even if it hurt.

"I need to stand up," you explained through sobs and cries of pain, and she hooted in understanding, lending you the firm part of her wings again to hold onto. She wasn't very deft in how much strength of hers you needed to be supported, but she tried to help—she, a monster. The situation was beyond strange and unimaginable, yet you almost felt some gratitude towards her.

"I need..." you gasped as you finally got to your legs. Pain was stealing your air, your mind twirling, and every thought getting more challenging to form. You stumbled backward, but her body caught you, steadied yours with hers. Dizziness raked at your conscience, the blood loss taking its toll. "A doctor. I need... a doctor..."

"Doctor?" she hooted questioningly. "What's a doctor?"

"A human who helps... injured humans. Medizin..."

"Huh?" With her elongated neck, she could easily look at your face even from behind you, but you didn't dare to look up to see how unnaturally she twisted her head back and forth, as she didn't understand. It wasn't that far off that harpies probably didn't help each other heal. They seemed more of the... cannibalistic type when one of them was weak.

"I need... help. I'm sick."

"Oh."

Finally, she seemed to understand, but unfortunately, instead of helping, she seemed deep in thought when the ground suddenly shook, and you had to grasp her wing tightly to keep your balance.

"Not fair!" another creature squawked, the sound almost shattering your eardrums coming from right in front of you. The ground shook even more as more of them landed, confronting their sister and you.

"Not fair! We want the human, too!"

"No!" the harpy at your back barked at them. "She's mine."

"She's not your mate!" they complained. "She's weak and bleeding! As good as dead!"

The harpies fell into a cacophony of chants, some saying "Dead Human!" in unison while the others shrieked, "Eat! Eat! Eat!"

"NO!" the harpy bellowed, shutting the others up fast. You were shocked by the vibrations of her body at your back, but it almost made you smile a little. What a stupid monster without a reason to be this protective. And yet she kept fighting for you.

"Then... she's a mate?" one of the harpies asked, sounding at her wit's end. The other hooted along to the statement, questioning your protector.

"Yes," she announced firmly, and this time, you did wrench your head upwards. She met your gaze with resolution, adding, "She's my mate. I have decided."

"Wha—?" you managed to wring out when one of her feet suddenly dug beneath your arms, clawed toes wrapping around your upper torso. You groaned in pain even though they didn't touch the wound directly as she placed them with intentions, but before you could complain, your feet lifted up from the ground, and you were just beneath the clouds faster than you could speak.

"Wait!" you screamed, struggling only to be hit with more pain.

"Where are you bringing me?" you asked, much quieter now that the situation finally dawned on you. The harpy tugged her legs in, supporting you with the free one beneath your thighs and giving you a place to sit on while also smushing you lightly against her feathery bottoms.

"To the nest. You said you are hurt, so I must clean your wounds, mate. Need to find herbs and food for you. Maybe there's some left from the hunt earlier. Flesh. You are too skinny."

"But... I'm not even your mate! We're both girls!" you complained heavenward, and she clucked, almost as if she was laughing.

"That makes no difference. You are my mate, I have decided."

"Do I get a chance to decide?" you whined, and for a moment, her wings stopped beating, the flight turning into a glide.

Her neck twisted, face turning back to look at you, and your wounds pounded angrily as her grip tightened.

"You are wounded. Do you want to be eaten?"

You gulped. That sounded much like your previous assumptions that harpies were not usually taken on duties to care for others.

"N-No?" you answered truthfully, but it sounded like a question anyway. Perhaps death was better than whatever "mate" was.

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, she turned forward again, resuming her flight.

"Then you are my mate now. You'll like the nest. We can soften it together, and then we can create young. You'll stay there and heal, and I'll bring you food and gather pretty things for my pretty mate."

She looked down again, and her lips split in an upside-down grin, so very similar to that of her human form. She seemed almost... happy. You swallowed hard as she revealed her plans, unable to come up with anything that would change her mind and not drop you from this height. What else was there but to comply with her—for now? Maybe once you were healed and back on steady ground, you could escape her and still make the run you had planned to make anyway. Just now, you had your own family and a monster gnawing at your heels. At least you'd be safe for now, you hoped.

Hearing no complaints from you, her grin widened even more, feathers puffing as if she was proud of her accomplishments.

"My mate," she cooed, and the clouds cleared up, revealing the sundown over the ocean, a couple hundred more harpies squealing and screeching beneath you as you two made your way towards the cliffside. It was too close to the city you used to live in. Back to point zero, now with an additional struggle to manage. But at least here, they'd have a hard time finding you and perhaps an even harder time retrieving you while you could plan your next moves.

It wasn't what you had imagined when you ran away, but you'd have to do with it for now.

Your new home.

[theshinazugawaslut]

In my opinion, I don’t understand Sanemi haters. Especially if they use the excuse “He tried to blind Genya!” Like, okay, I get it, but I’m waiting for someone more reasonable. Something more..problematic. Y’know?

I hope I ain’t alone in this 😕 Anyhow, have a good day, Esha! Mwah

For me, both Sanemi defenders and haters are not the brightest :(

Sanemi is an incredibly complex character and it definitely confuses a lot of people, rightfully so, but a lot of people either excuse his actions or misinterpret his emotions.

Sanemi carries an incredible amount of self-hatred and absolutely abandoned his true self to form himself into the perfect killing machine to protect Genya.

What Sanemi haters get wrong is that Sanemi is just violent and doesn't love Genya, often thinking that Sanemi went to poke out Genya's eyes because he truly despises his little brother and wanted to hurt him.

They forget that Sanemi is incredibly traumatised; he watched his siblings die at his mother's hand, he killed his own mother, destroyed his own body to fight demons without a technique, ect. He doesn't have any emotional regulation anymore; the only way he knows how to react is with violence and anger since in his worst moments, that's the only way he was able to protect anything.

What Sanemi defenders get wrong is that Sanemi's violence towards Genya is still wrong, no matter what reasons or emotions he had. It's undoubtedly unjustifiable. You can explain his actions, but you cannot excuse them.

I think it's part of Sanemi's charm, he's such a tragic character.

As an eldest sibling myself, when I imagine myself in that horrible position, I almost understand. When rage is how you protect, any violence becomes justifiable in colourless eyes.

Though at the end, it's all for nothing.

[johnkahner]

Can I request the Lin Kuei trio reacting to seeing their partner being slapped? I want to see bLOOD

AN: My brain was trying to get this done, but I wanted to get this done before I went to sleep tonight. Also, my laptop's spacebar started to act up a little when writing this rip. I hope you guys enjoy it! Not proof read.

Notes: Gender-Neutral! Reader, Pissed off! Lin Kuei Trio

Bi-Han

Bi-Han is having a conversation with Sektor about Lin Kuei stuff while walking around performing checkups to things around the clan to make sure that they are up to date and whatnot. Boring stuff really. 

They hear some pottery break, and they go to investigate. Bi-Han sees a girl that is the daughter of another clan hoping to form an alliance with the Lin Kuei, and you. You had your head lowered. That infuriated Bi-Han because the two of you were lovers, well secret lovers. 

“Don’t you know that I’ll most likely be your Grandmaster’s wife? You should beg and grovel at my feet.”

The arrogant girl laughs in your face. She grabs your face to look you in the eyes. When you look her in the eyes you roll your eyes, and this pisses her off. She slaps you in the face. However, as soon as she did that her days were now numbered. 

Bi-Han rushes over to you. He grabs the woman’s wrist to only snap it with a single squeeze. He makes his hand cold to gently cup your swollen cheek. 

“Are you alright my heart?”

“Of course, my Grandmaster.”

“Drag that woman away to the dungeon to be tortured.”

That’s how everyone found out about your relationship with the cryomancer. 

—

Kuai Liang

Kuai Liang, Tomas, and you were at Madam Bo’s to have a nice dinner after a long day of training. You were extremely tired. You had your chin on the table, arms stretched out. The two men laughed at your actions. While yes they were tired, they were used to this training, but you however weren’t. 

You slowly get up to have your bones cracking, and you sigh at the feeling. 

“I’ll be right back.”

They continue a conversation they were having as you leave your little group. However, there was a commotion. When they get up to see what was happening, Kuai Liang sees you getting slapped in the face by some random man. He sees fire.

“That’s what you get bitch. I was trying to be nice asking if you wanted to go on a date sometime.” 

Holding onto your face you glare at your assailant, and then you feel heat. Not any normal heat either. This was from Kuai Liang. He was furious that a random man would dare to lay his hands on you. 

He makes sure you are okay before he beats the bastard to a bloody pulp. 

—

Tomas Vrbada

You were in an argument with Bi-Han for what seems like the hundredth time. The two of you never got along, and what adds more fuel to your hatred for each other was one man. Tomas Vrbada is his name. Said man is your boyfriend and that gives Bi-Han another reason to hate you because he loathes Tomas. 

As your argument gets more heated than usual, Bi-Han takes things too far by slapping you in the face. Palm of ice style. It hurt like a sonofabitch.  Blood trickling down your face, you hold your cheek as both Kuai Liang and Tomas watch, unsure what to do now. 

Tomas is pissed. It’s one thing to belittle him and insult him and his partner, but to result to physical violence is another thing. He rushes to Bi-Han to fight him for hurting you. At the end of the day both of you are bruised and covered in a little blood, but the two of you take care of each other. 

“Are you alright, Tomas?”

“Yea, how are you doing?”

“I could be doing better, but hey what do you expect.”

The two of you cuddle and laugh with each other.

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 12: Into The Depths

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: If you aren't cut out to be part of the group, then you’ll just have to go it alone.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 7.7k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, also physical violence, swearing, guilt, arguing, self-doubt, blood, injury, near-drowning

a/n: the warnings on this chapter may tell you that there's quite a lot in store... and after you all loved last week's found family wholesomeness last week, I really hope you're not mad😅

You were beginning to think Kuyang had had it very lucky. The current ‘lab’ you occupied looked more like a bunker to you.

No windows in sight, you instead had to stare at an array of screens displaying the outside world. Waiting.

You moved your fingers idly, blue static crackling between each one. Though you trained your eyes attentively on the ‘view’ beyond the heavy concrete wall, you couldn’t suppress the itch. You knew you weren’t the only one. You had trained, you could fight, but still all you were able to do was react to Bolt’s every whim with no way to anticipate him.

That was Namjoon’s department, though.

Only a tap of your toes belied your otherwise calm, level gaze as you scanned the images.

At the very least, you were here in advance this time. No rushing halfway across the city on an emergency call. This lab housed some kind of weapon, the ‘shield rifle’, and though you had seen it only in pictures, you had to admit it looked a useful piece of kit. The forcefield spheres it fired could be used both for attack and defence. Something you wanted kept on your side. So, for whatever connection had tipped you off this time, you tried to be grateful.

That is, if the threat turned out to be real after all.

A dart of movement made you blink not a second later, half convinced it had been a figment of your restless mind. But no. It was like they had been waiting for your doubt to begin so they could laugh at you.

Hastily regathering your focus, more figures crept into the frame, confirming what you had first seen. A hungry smirk quirked your mouth as you lifted your receiver to your lips.

“I can see four people outside exit C,” you told them, “don’t think they’ve spotted us, though.”

“Copy that. Anyone else got movement?” Jin asked swiftly after.

“Nothing yet.” Jimin.

“Hm, Yoongi, can you get around to Y/N?” Namjoon instructed, “I’m not seeing any other action yet. But stay alert.”

“On the way,” Yoongi said simply.

Beside the screens was a thick door, barely distinguishable from the blank wall. Eager eyes glancing towards it, your feet couldn’t resist a step closer to where action soon promised to bloom.

Were they really that clueless? You almost felt sorry for Bolt’s warriors as you saw them sneak closer, oblivious to the fact they were already unders surveillance, directly in your line of sight. One of them crouched, producing some kind of tool.

You rolled your neck. So they were going to break down the door? They sure were making it simple for you; maybe you could be persuaded to go easy on them.

“You seeing this?” you asked the receiver.

“You ready?” was Namjoon’s response.

Before you could respond, the screens went dark. Smart move – or it would be, if you hadn’t already clocked them.

Yoongi couldn’t be far away. Another confident step took you towards the door, your powers now thrumming in your veins.

Sure enough, the door juddered, before rising from the ground. A bracing breath and you were ready, on your toes. The intruders didn’t fire yet, though. You would have to let them come for you.

“Wait!” a cry crackled through the radio on your hip. Cursing, you snatched at it, hoping your position hadn’t been given away.

“There’s someone else-”

No sooner had you time to frown than a cacophonous crash sounded, somewhere distantly on your left. Even through all the layers of concrete, it rumbled, stirring horror low in your chest.

Backing away several paces, your eyes darted urgently between the slowly raising doorway and the far end of the corridor, beyond which something bigger had just happened.

What was that? The question was on your lips without you thinking it, the only clear thing among a rush of panic that brought your friends’ faces spinning through your mind. Your hallway suddenly felt so isolated, its darkness stretching out either side of you.

But the words never passed your lips.

The moment your receiver was at your mouth, it exploded with noise again.

“Shit-” you had never heard Hope curse before, “Monsoon’s here.”

Your eyes widened. That was a name you had yet to make an acquaintance with. But you knew it alright. Monsoon was a title you had only ever read side-by-side with Bolt in the papers.

“Y/N,” Namjoon’s decisive tone cut through your reeling thoughts, “deal with the first lot. Everyone else, get to exit A and get this fucker out.”

So you stalked forwards, impatiently lifting one arm to finish the door’s ascent. As your powers met the resistance of the concrete, you gritted your teeth and pushed through, lightning gushing from your palm to haul the door aside, leaving you framed in the doorway.

The people from earlier backed away from the door as you finally faced them.

They clutched familiar weapons. The one closest to your shifted their gun defensively, drawing your attention.

“Please, let’s not,” you said flatly, “I have better things to be doing. Though I’m sure you know that.”

It crossed your mind that this lot had likely been a purposeful distraction. Yet more of Bolt’s fodder.

One of them shot a nervous glance to their neighbour. That was the only movement, making you scowl, eyes rolling.

“That yours?” you asked blithely, tilting your head to a van a short way to the right.

You watched with dark amusement as their heads followed your direction. And then your patience snapped. Letting loose a burst of blue power, an extension of you, it closed like a fist around the van and tossed it skywards with an ease that made you smile.

It arced over the group, suspended, for a moment.

Then you brought it slamming back to earth, right at their feet. Close enough to force them scrambling back, away from you. The force cracked the road, blue sparks skittering through trenches carved from impact.

You glared at them through the blue trails of light leaping and sparking from the wrecked vehicle.

They ran.

Feet still planted in the same spot, you waited just long enough to be sure they were really going for good, before you caved to what you had been itching for this whole time.

Turning on your heel, you raced back inside. Yoongi had probably already passed you by, hidden safely until he needed to be. A restless force took you tearing through the place alone towards the main entrance, where Monsoon must have attacked. Looked like they weren’t going for subtlety with this one.

Another abandoned doorway was a blur as you raced on. Another corner and noise reached your ears. Another step, and you were forced to a skidding halt.

Up ahead, a door slammed shut.

Hurriedly shooting a lightning blast at the solid surface, you were poised to run straight through – but nothing moved.

Behind it, you could hear crashes, a brief roar like flames, a rush like waves. When something collided directly with the other side of the door, you slammed your palms against it in frustration. You needed to get in there, help your team!

The communications had dissolved, an incomprehensible exchange blaring back and forth through your radio. Some instructions from Jin, cut off by a cry by Jimin, before a breathless Hope only got half a sentence out. Clearly called back by the fray. You couldn’t bear to be so close, yet helpless.

Giving it one more try, you watched your powers glide fruitlessly around the doorway’s seams, fizzling out.

Grabbing at the receiver, you called into it.

“I can’t get through! How do I open this thing?!”

Namjoon’s voice of reason never answered you. No-one answered you.

Just the echoing collisions of things you couldn’t see, beyond this unfeeling barrier. You were panting harder than ever despite having stopped running. Were they ok?

You needed to get in there.

Breathing out harshly, you stepped back and squared your shoulders. With the strength of your worry filling you, your impatience to help, you summoned as much as you could muster-

And fired.

Jungkook’s familiar shouts from the training room steeled your mind even more. You had honed this power with him, and now you could use it.

The shock of blue connected this time, illuminated your face and the corridor like welding fire as you concentrated it on your obstacle. You felt the kickback but leaned into it, only digging your heels in harder.

For one moment, the electricity grew taught between you and the door, straining like it was solid-

Then it gave way.

The door smashed inwards. Without a second’s hesitation, you strode forwards into the carnage laid out before you.

The space you had entered earlier was in ruins, chunks of the wall lying on the ground in rippling pools of water, electricals hanging, frayed and sparking, from the ceiling. Daylight was thrown inside from the wide open main door, though the smaller ones around the space still lay shut. Oddly, there was none of the purple fire that your group usually left in your wake.

You were about to find out why.

You had quickly scoped out the figures dotted throughout the space: some running, some firing, some just staggering up from the ground. And only one you didn’t recognise.

The hero wore white, starkly standing out against the battered bunker.

In the opposite corner, a fierce plume of purple flame roared to life, silhouetting the stranger. The next instant, the man struck, a torrent of water following his movements and drenching the fire to ash.

V was leaping out of its path, caught mid-air by the blurred form of Hobi. V was dropped to safety on a pile of rubble in a blink. Then Hope kicked off the wall in a one-eighty, landing with one hand on the ground in front on Monsoon.

Then Hoseok charged. Monsoon staggered and dodged, struggling to track the man who ran circles around him. Suddenly, the hero held his arms out, stumbling even more cluelessly. In your hurry towards the action, you spotted a cloud of shadow hovering at his eyes. Yoongi.

Monsoon stopped.

Then the tsunami hit.

Throwing his arms out, Monsoon summoned a ring of water that frothed with white. It hurtled straight for you – straight for everyone – knocking you back in a winding blow. Hobi was struck from the air, even his lightning pace unable to outrun the wall of waves.

Your back never even hit the ground. Churning water turned you over, and you found yourself stumbling to your feet, running in the total opposite direction.

Gasping from the unexpected impact, you collided with something else.

Someone.

Hands grasped your upper arms firmly, keeping you on your feet as you blinked away the slew of water. You looked up into the face of Jungkook.

Brows drawn, he scanned you swiftly. Then he was pulling you back, both of you retreating from Monsoon, who stood taller in the centre once more. His mask gleamed white again, eyes now rid of darkness.

Misguidedly, your eyes hunted for Yoongi. Of course, you didn’t find him. You hoped him being invisible meant he was still alive in here somewhere.

Jungkook’s hands loosened, making you glance back to him. His eyes had left you, focussed somewhere distant.

“What the…?”

Following his look, words stopped in your throat too.

The small doors, the ones which led inside, to the very lab you were defending… were sliding open.

All of them.

“What… ppening…?” your waterlogged radio spit out panicked fragments of Jin’s voice, “I locked these-”

And as you noticed, Monsoon was not far behind.

Hobi was first off the mark, already in front of the man. He dodged one canon-like column of water, successfully knocking Monsoon to the side, but he wasn’t so lucky the second time. Hurrying to support him, a boulder flew overhead, and you were running.

Jungkook’s hand at your back urged you on before you disconnected, running in step towards the enemy.

Jimin’s projectile found its mark, landing solidly in the doorway Monsoon headed for, but the man simply lifted his palms and a flood carried it away before the next could pile up. And the same flood gathered around the hero, carrying him on faster as he deflected another blow from Hope.

Behind him, you plunged forwards into ankle-high water which only deepened the closer you got to the man himself.

A sharp golden streak caught Monsoon unawares. Falling sideways, off-course, he was slammed against the wall beside the opening. Jungkook leapt into the air a moment later, Monsoon’s next shot falling between the two of you.

While you dived out of its path onto the ground, Jungkook took to the air and fired again, again.

But Monsoon was prepared now he had his assailant in sight. He caught each blow with a splash of water in mid-air. His retaliation avenged him, a cannon-like blast of water sending Jungkook crashing against the wall.

Wincing, you watched him slide to the ground clutching an arm. The way his face twisted, teeth bared with pain, had fire bubbling anew within you.

Something else stole your attention first.

Pushing yourself to sit, your ear came close to your receiver where it had fallen. Almost unheard in the chaos of the fight, Jin was trying to figure out the cause of the error.

“I’ve lost the system… ‘s offline.. disturbance started- section C… one of the door- shorted-”

A door shorted the system? In… section C?

Realisation hit you in slow motion, and it was all too fast. Washing over you, heat prickled menacingly, spreading across your skin. A trapdoor opened up for your stomach to fall through, robbing you of more breath than the impact of Monsoon’s freak wave.

It had been you.

Finally struggling to his feet and unopposed, Monsoon dragged himself through the empty doorway. You should stop him. You should-

Numb, you looked up. It wasn’t the bright white of Monsoon that grabbed your eyes. It was another gaze, looking right back at you through the wall of water.

The wave Monsoon had created to tide him through your attacks sunk slowly, seeping back into shallow puddles around where you lay. As it deflated, Jungkook’s eyes came into sharper focus. His pain forgotten, still slumped against the far wall, he suddenly seemed so much closer than he was. You had seen that glare before; why did it drive such a burning poker through your chest now?

Your own guilt pushed it deeper. His eyes only reflected the piercing regret now surging through you.

The world tilted unnaturally as you forced your legs beneath you. Your own breaths thundered through your skull as you twisted, feet leaden as you tried to catch sight of your friends, counting the shapes of bodies… Losing count…

Then you were at Jungkook’s side. On your knees.

“Jungkook,” you breathed, voice far away, “are you-?”

He didn’t wait for you to finish.

Shoving away your outstretched hand, he was on his feet. You rose too, steps falling away from him with rising dread.

“That was- that was you?! You were watching over section C, right? …Right?”

You flinched at his raised voice, breathing coming faster.

“Hey,” a sharp snap cut him off.

Whipping around, you found Hope standing just a pace away. His eyes fell over both of you. Cold.

They lingered on you for only a second, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you, before they rested on Monsoon’s escape path.

“We should be chasing after him.”

But he got no further.

All the lights shut off at once, plunging the space into near-darkness. Only fading daylight from the entrance behind you maintained your sight. The lot of you jumped.

Head snapping up, you whirled around, searching the space. When you faced the outside doorway, the cause made itself known.

Marching inside was Namjoon. His footsteps echoed like gunshots in the silence after the battle.

You physically felt your heart jolting lower with every step he took. Tension radiated from your leader. Instinct had you stepping back as he passed, fists clenched, and disappeared through the door.

You gulped when a flash of red came from the darkness beyond.

Shame burned your eyes. At least the darkness could hide that.

Again, you turned, slower this time. There was V climbing down from the rubble, Jimin taking his hand to help him. You still didn’t see Yoongi, but perhaps that was by design. His absence would have been noted by now if not one of you could see him.

You swallowed harder, dipping your head. You had thought you could help… Instead, you had caused all this? Swayed an already losing battle in favour of the enemy?

No wonder Yoongi wouldn’t grace your sight right now. And Hobi didn’t even want to look at you. And Jungkook-

Jungkook’s rage screamed loud enough through his eyes. You thought you had been used to this, but all of a sudden you couldn’t stomach the thought of the venom in his gaze.

It reminded you of the time you hadn’t known him. When he had been all brick walls and disdain… and you had just watched those barriers slam back up in real time.

It shouldn’t be the thing that stuck in your throat.

He shouldn’t be the one you desperately wanted to take it back for.

No.

Taking a firm breath in through your nose, you stamped on the feeling. It couldn’t make you feel any shittier, tossing it on the steaming pile of shame and ugly humiliation already festering in your gut.

A new flash made you blink back to the outside world. Namjoon stood in front of you all.

“He’s gone… with the shield rifle. The doors are open all the way to the other side.”

When his eyes landed on you, you wished your powers would burn you up from the inside.

That journey home was probably the most you had ever understood Jungkook’s need to lose himself in the gym in moments of frustration.

The silence of the car locked you in, even your halting breaths feeling like too much movement. Your presence felt like a neon sign, advertising your monumental failure to your friends, drawing their eyes without asking for it. If only the seat could swallow you up, render you truly invisible.

And while you sat still, your insides only rioted more.

So the moment you got home, you broke away from the subdued group heading for the living room. And they let you. Even as you walked away, you couldn’t relax, every step controlled. You wished your footsteps would be quiet.

Your footfalls rang out faster and faster on the staircase as you finally began to give in to your bottled-up impatience to move.

Sights set on the entrance to the gym, you already ached for the burn in your muscles. Any hope of dodging the storm of guilt currently bombarding you full-force. By now, your pace was ready to burst into a run, eyes desperately fixed on the approaching door-

A hand caught your arm, roughly wheeling you around.

Before you even noticed it was Jungkook, you had ripped your arm back from his grasp. Trying to reign in your breathing, you shot him a blazing look.

“Jungkook, please leave me alone-”

“You think you can just walk away from this? What was that, back there?”

You breathed in harshly, unprepared for his exclamation. Turning your face to glare hard at the floor, you ground your teeth together.

“I’m not walking away. Just… can it wait?” Your question came out flat.

His brows only drew tighter, disgust rapidly etching into his features.

“Just like you could wait to come barging in to fight Monsoon?” his voice was cutting, “you wanted a piece of the action then! But now you’re the one who gets to decide when we deal with this? It affects all of us.”

Face pinching, you flinched back from his relentless rain of accusations.

With what you told yourself was a steadying breath, in and out, you tried to swallow down your rising irritation.

“I didn’t know it would fry the circuit-”

“What did you think our power does again?!” Jungkook cut you off, incredulous, throwing his arms out.

Shutting your mouth with a snap, you breathed through your nose. Maybe both of you needed to cool off. It wasn’t like you had wanted this to happen!

And yet he was back to treating you like a child, like he was above you-

Shaking his head, a scowl took over Jungkook’s mouth. His glare slipped back into angry disdain so easily, and with a scoff he backed away.

“I knew I was right about you.”

For a terrifying second, the space between you teetered in silence so steep you wondered if you could hear the shaking of your tense muscles. And then-

Something within you snapped.

“What exactly is your problem?” you yelled, not allowing him to turn his back on you, eyes snapping up and ready to meet his fire this time. “Tell me! Ever since I got here you’ve hated me, wanted me gone. Even though the others never-”

Jungkook responded in kind without blinking, eyes hardening and foot stepping sharply forwards.

“They are my brothers,” he spat, “but unlike them, I’m not ready to trust just anyone who walks through the door with powers-”

“I had no other choice!” you cried, arms flying out.

“And that’s supposed to make it better?”

Jungkook pressed closer with the force of his shouting.

You gritted your teeth, stood your ground.

“Listen: I am not Bolt. Have I not proved that to you?”

“The only thing you’ve proved is that we can’t rely on you!”

“It was a mistake, Jungkook! People make mistakes!”

“We can’t afford to make mistakes!” his anger slid then into something darker, lowering in volume but losing no ferocity. “They are all I have in this world.”

“And you don’t think that’s the same for me?!”

His anger boiled over again in an instant.

“You haven’t gone through what we have! You don’t know what it’s like out there for people like us!” Now toe-to-toe, he jabbed a finger at your chest. “You were picked up straight away when you got powers, and we all held your hand through it! How can I really know we’re fighting for the same cause?”

“So that’s it, huh? I have to suffer in order for you to trust me?” you scoffed.

A heavier frown flickered along Jungkook’s brow, but when his mouth opened it was only to scowl. Had you finally rendered him speechless?

Eyes locked, barely inches apart, you both breathed heavily. Not one breaking away. Not one backing down. Jungkook’s jaw ticked. A similar spasm struck you, only it was a searing swipe of hurt through your chest.

Stirring up the power that dwelt there.

The crackle of lightning was audible, albeit only a single strand of static that escaped your palm. Reflected back in Jungkook’s eyes, your own bright flash of blue.

As if it had burnt him, he jerked away, severing eye contact.

Hurriedly putting distance between you, he looked back up once more. Gone was the hardened glare. Face slack, his expression was wide open with something so raw…

In one motion, the frown shifted his features once more. With a final, chilling look, he turned stiffly and stalked away. The change had almost been quick enough to convince you you never saw him look so wounded just a moment before.

His steps rang out on the stairs, and were gone.

Like a string had been cut, you deflated, finally allowing yourself a few reeling steps back.

You paused there. Staring hollowly ahead, you never turned back to the gym. All your previous intentions of escape had done just that and fled.

A shaky breath transformed into an embarrassing sniff. Gritting your teeth, you did your best to swallow down the sob that tried to break from your throat.

Breaths coming choppily, your eyes tracked the path Jungkook had just walked away from you. Your lips couldn’t resist the harsh downwards tug as his words fed the storm of your thoughts.

There was no brushing off Jungkook’s comments, like you had often done in spats past. There was no hand on your shoulder telling you not to mind him – no, that would have to come from one of the people you had just put in danger. Whose plans you had ruined…

Jungkook may be the only one up to saying it, but they must all agree with him by now.

His words hadn’t bounced off a shield this time. They had split your flesh and buried deep inside you, writhing in the current of regret dragging you off your feet.

He didn’t think you were on the same side? You had thought you had earned their trust, but now you couldn’t blame them for their doubt in you, after such a monumental fuck-up.

You twisted your fingers into a fist to prevent your hand from clutching your head. This was no time for self-pity. You weren’t the one who deserved comfort here. It was you who should be making things right.

With a shallow breath, you rolled your shoulders. Chose to dig your feet in against the stream of ugly emotions.

Some workout wouldn’t fix this.

You would.

At that promise, the waters settled around you, content with being given direction at last. The resolution may have granted a tenuous peace, the mess of shame still swirling below the surface, but at least you could breathe easier. At least you could move your feet, a new ease to your movements at the prospect of redeeming this catastrophe.

The odd sensation of walking a high wire remained nonetheless. Controlling each breath, aware not to make a sound, you cracked open the door at the head of the stairs.

Silence met you.

If you were lucky, the boys may have dispersed already. If they had, though, you had no guarantee as to how long they would stay away. It wasn’t like them to totally split. Knowing them the way you did, you had seen the way they got through things together, sticking by each other’s side after the hardships just as much as the victories.

A bitter weight settled in your heart. You had hoped to be part of that. Their care as a group was the reason you fought, the very people you had now jeopardised.

Stepping into the hallway, the guilt never left you behind, but you forced it to the back of your mind as you emerged, scanning the place. You heard a shower running on your way down the hall. It made sense that they would be recovering, regrouping.

A quick sweep of the living space showed it bare.

Or so you thought. One more step and your breath caught in your throat, catching the top of a head which had previously been obscured by sofa cushions.

Freezing as if you had been caught in headlights, it took you a moment to realise he was asleep. It was V, a faint line over his brows as he dozed. You glanced once more around you; if V was here, it wasn’t like Jimin to leave him alone, particularly in a vulnerable state like this.

You suddenly had to fight down a lump in your throat at the thought that you could be seen as the threat.

Which was why you had to do this; prove yourself anew.

No one was here. You had to move.

Marching fast as you dared, you made it soundlessly to the stairs. You had seen Jin and Jungkook on separate occasions getting the keys, and swiped one from the inconspicuous row of hooks below the counter.

You had never been the one with the keys, but you found you had watched the others long enough to know by instinct the button to open the front door. The instant you could squeeze through the gap, you closed it right behind you again.

Jogging on light feet, you made it to the smallest car they kept here. Another press of the keys showed you had managed to pick the right key, and you slid into the driver’s seat.

A flex of your fingers on the steering wheel, and you were set. You gave yourself no time to think before pulling away. All you would find was an array of thoughts competing for the best way to torment you.

It had been your short-sightedness, selfish impatience, that had brought Bolt one step closer to what he wanted. You had single-handedly put everyone in danger.

And all you had wanted to do this entire time was help.

Sparse rain greeted you outside, swiping heavy droplets against the windows.

The city passed in a blur, each grey road forgotten the moment you turned to the next. You were too stuck in your own mind. Maybe it should have bothered you how much of Jungkook you found there. But with your memories taking you on a wild goose chase – after some vague hope of seeing where it all went wrong, if he had seen the truth about you from the beginning – questioning why his words suddenly meant so much to you wasn’t something you had room to entertain.

Everything he said replayed as you neared your destination.

You haven’t gone through what we have.

What had he meant by that? The rest was clear enough, unpleasant as it was. But this? A brand new stake of guilt twisted at the dawning realisation. The boys all knew how you had gained your powers; they had all been there. But as for the rest of them…

Had you really been so blind? You hadn’t thought of it as easy, but when you walked into this life it had been laid out for you… Had you been thoughtless? Did you take your new friends for granted?

Of course you had wondered… How they had come to be there, how they had ended up together.

You tried to cling onto some hope in the form of, well, Hope, and of course V, who had each wanted to tell you their stories. But now you hardly felt like you had deserved their candidness. Why had they even told you? Had it been out of pity? That conversation had followed yet another of your fuckups... The thought made you wince, and your doubts were accompanied by a sharp needle of guilt for having them in the first place.

Such warring thoughts about your friends only propeled the spiral further. Perhaps you had assumed you would be let in on other stories when the time came. But now you saw you had never been close enough to know, to be deigned worthy. Your arrogance sickened you.

Tearing yourself forcefully from yet another well of self-depreciation, you blinked through the windscreen.

Hurriedly indicating, you pulled off. This was it. The docks showed themselves at the end of the road, and you pulled over in the shadow of a building.

Though the car stopped, you held onto the wheel for another moment, breathing deeply. If your worries had almost made you miss your turning, you knew you ought to be more careful with what you were about to do. Being off the ball could be disastrous.

Attacking any of the top dogs was off the table for bangtan for obvious reasons. Didn’t stop them having tabs on where they hung out. You had clocked it on a map Jin had shown you when he was explaining the various movements they were planning with their partners.

To be fair, you probably could have guessed by yourself that Monsoon would be by the biggest supply of water in town.

Okay, make this as simple as possible. Worrying about the boys wouldn’t help you make it up to them. Probably the opposite was true, in fact.

Stepping from the car, you shut the door softly. Stuck to the shadows as you moved towards the river, not flinching despite the rain against your face.

The river was high in its banks, a great mass roiling downstream, churned by wind you hadn’t previously noticed. Now that you reached the exposed plain of the docks, it pulled at your hair ferociously.

You didn’t mind. It covered you better, no longer afraid to make a sound as you moved, eyes constantly scanning.

Monsoon’s lair was close.

The light was fading fast, the blue of twilight well-established already. This time of day, it seemed the docks were mostly empty. Darting past a couple of warehouses, you saw no signs to direct you to your target, but were not dissuaded.

You used a stack of shipping containers ahead as your shield to sneak up to the river’s edge. Peering over the railings, you squinted at what little you could see of the concrete bank. Black water crashed at the edges, occasional spray joining the raindrops beating thinly at your skin.

Gripping tighter to the cold metal of the railing, you leaned further out. This time, you were rewarded. A little way up, a blue light glistened just above the waves, out of line with the white ones lining the docks’ edge.

Daring to let a smile lift your mouth, you crept nearer.

When you were almost on top of it, a darker patch of shadow fell away in the path, revealing a stairwell. The unassuming concrete steps would have passed you by at any other time, but it was exactly what you were hunting for now.

You hurried down.

It seemed you had hit the jackpot. What simple workman’s entrance would have such a high-tech control panel to get in?

Stepping up to it, you saw no sign of a camera, but that was no guarantee. Placing your hand over the panel, you covered the blue light glowing from the screen. This shouldn’t be too hard for you… But the similar situation mere hours ago had your heart racing a beat too fast in your chest. Aside from the others, you had to prove to yourself that you had the control needed.

Tentatively engaging your powers, you extended just enough to blow out this lock. The blue of the screen was joined by your own light, seeping between your fingers, and then both died.

You hoped you had been quick enough in your caution, not allowed Monsoon time to be alerted of your intrusion.

With the lock disarmed, the door fell open a crack. Just waiting for you.

It slid seamlessly open at your touch. The hallway beyond was dark, but it was clearly the right direction. While the construction was plain as the docks outside, flat walls leading you on, this was not built with identical concrete.

Summoning a ball of glowing light to guide you on, the brightness reflected startlingly back at you. From walls made of marble.

Dimming the light in your palm, you blinked in surprise for a moment. Eyebrows raised, you shook your head and pressed on. Monsoon was really in the lap of luxury here. What more did he want to achieve by stealing weapons?

If you were in a situation to build an entrance hall out of marble, you reckoned you would be calling it quits on any kind of work.

The impression was only elevated when you reached the end of the corridor. Peering around the next door, you were forced to expand your light source again. The room it lit up was vast and lavish. Set into the far wall was a huge window, giving you a view of the rippling water beyond. So you were below the river level here.

Stepping further inside, your blue light glimmered back at you from the depths.

You barely turned your eye over the living space as you stepped on a plush rug between stately sofas. What you were here for was right in front of you.

Laid out before the window, a clear cabinet sat full of various devices. Monsoon kept these weapons like trophies.

Near the bottom, you spied the shield gun he had secured today. You should have taken it and gone, right then.

But as you cast your eyes upwards, they stuck on the gun that took up pride of place. White casing held a clear, spherical centre. Needles of pale lightning darted inside. It froze you where you stood, a paralysing memory of cold and dread crashing over you for a second too long.

“Who the hell are you?”

You weren’t proud of the way you jumped. You instantly shut off your blue light, a second later being dazzled by white flooding the space as the main light was flicked on.

Your eyes were quick to find him. In the corner near the vast window, emerging from another entrance in this impressive lair, was Monsoon. Presumably, in any case. He had no mask anymore, but who else could it be?

Instinct kicking in, you dived for the thing you had come for. One hand stretched out for the shield gun, the other raising to fire a panicked bolt his way.

It never hit.

Monsoon swept a hand forward. Before you could gasp, a globe of water had engulfed you, taking your feet from under you.

Your reaction never got further than a thought. Trying to lash out, your body didn’t respond. Through your watery prison, you saw Monsoon step forwards, lifting his arm to raise you higher from the ground in the bubble he had created – the bubble trapping your electricity in here with you. The current buzzing in the water was your own, you could feel it. But you couldn’t control it. Couldn’t move at all.

“A Bolt wannabe, are you?” his voice reached you, muffled by the water in your ears.

You could only glare back, terror clenching your muscles almost as much as the electric current. A burning ache crept agonisingly from your lungs.

“Did you forget those powers could hurt you, too?”

Through dark splotches rapidly dimming your vision, all you saw were cold, mirthful eyes. Your entire body screamed for air, but your mind was clouding. Vague images assaulted you, of a storm whirling around you as you fell, of blue cutting through the night. You were trapped in a nightmare, your own powers the ones attacking you again, not the thing you had grown to love, understand and use.

Faux sympathy brought Monsoon’s face into a mocking pout, but even the rage it stirred in you couldn’t hold a flame to the flood pushing you farther from consciousness-

Your bones collided with the floor. You were already coughing and gasping before the pain from your knees and head began to bloom.

Choking in blissful air, you forced your shuddering arms to raise you from the ground.

Glaring up at Monsoon, you brought your arm forward again. Your enraged powers were more than ready to strike him down.

In one step, the man stamped down on the wrist stretched towards him. Pressed down harder as his eyes burned into yours.

“You may have powers,” he spoke, ignoring the way you winced as your bone ground against the floor, “but we can still cook you from the inside if we try for long enough.”

Lunging forwards, he released your arm only to grasp your collar. Dragging you up, he left your weakened legs scrabbling on the ground. Then he sent a fist flying hard into your face.

The impact flung you backwards, the weapons cabinet rattling. One temple connected with a solid shelf, pain biting at your forehead. Hands finding the surface, you clung to it, felt blood slick beneath your fingers at the same moment as the warm liquid dripped into your eye.

Striding to close the distance once more, Monsoon towered over you. He rested one shoulder on the cabinet and gave a cocky tilt of his head.

“What is it you were after, hm?” his eyes dragged teasingly along the shelves, “I rather fancy these myself-”

You could only scramble backwards. It wasn’t enough to escape the blade he flung your way, and another. One struck your cheek, one your collar. Inches higher and it could have slit your throat.

Two metal stars clattered to the ground around you while you panted. How were you going to get out of this? Your powers didn’t mix with Monsoon’s.

Pulling your legs out of the way, you did the first thing you thought of. With your good arm, you fired again. Sending a sharp, but powerful, burst, you hit a different mark. Instead of going for Monsoon, you sent the cabinet crashing down over him.

With a shout, he was pushed to the floor among a rain of metal and glass. Your eyes followed one particular weapon as it rolled away, white light mercifully still contained.

Desperately wobbling to your feet, you fell against an armchair, clinging to it to stay upright while the world swam around you. You pushed off it towards a sofa, hands grabbing the back to support you as you staggered on towards the door you had entered through.

A scraping filled the air. Monsoon, throwing off the shelves that crushed him.

Before you could dive for the exit, a winding impact struck you, sending you headfirst over the couch. The wave dispersed, leaving you gasping again, this time on the sodden rug.

A fearful look over your shoulder showed Monsoon looming behind the sofa.

“Get out of my house,” he spat.

And then, as if in reverse, the water puddled around you was sucked inwards. Collecting into a rippling sphere, it carried you helplessly. This time, you could move your limbs, but the thrashing was useless against the force that sent you flying towards the window.

Screwing your eyes shut, you waited for the impact of shattering glass around you.

It never came.

That was no window. The water hadn’t been held back by glass.

Instead, you were plunged straight into the depths. Bitingly cold torrents enveloped you. The bright light of Monsoon’s abode flew from your sight as the raging river swept you downstream in its currents.

Your flailing arms fought a losing battle. The water consumed every bit of strength you exerted, and pushed back harder, flinging you over until you lost your bearings completely in the blinding darkness.

Raging in your ears, the river stretched out black below you and above you… although you couldn’t tell which was which. You were at the mercy of the current thrusting you further into the numbing depths, the water which battered at you stinging in your wounds.

Sapped of movement, the most you could do was bite down and try not to breathe. Your lungs burned; it was only a matter of time until involuntary instinct would take over, flood you from the inside.

The churning water flipped you over again. With the sickening lurch of your stomach, it took too long for your numb skin to register the air that slapped you round the face.

The waves had spat you out at the exact right moment. You hauled air into your lungs in a shuddering gasp, arms desperately pushing down at the waves around you in an attempt to keep your head above them.

There was no getting out of this with your powers, even if you could summon them in your current state. As a wave swiped at your face, sending you back under for a horrifying second, you longed for the ease of simply flying away with a boost from your powers.

Or even… someone blazing down from the sky in a shower of gold, always there when you needed him in battle.

But there was no one to save you. Twisting your head, every snatch of vision between the waves showed nothing but a lonely expanse of water so much bigger than you. The row of lights at the bank was too far away, glinting temptingly out of reach.

Another swell caught you, pushing your head under. Its power swamping you, you were rolled over, the cold clawing at you and forcing its way into your mouth. Each moment you surfaced was cut short, barely enough for a breath before the flow overwhelmed you once more. You couldn't even feel the rain which beat against your face.

As the storm tossed and toyed with you, your rapidly fogging mind only filled with your friends. Their care, their laughter, their loyalty. How you wished you could have been enough.

More waves, more snatches of air stolen away. You wondered if your body would have given out already had you not had powers to bolster your endurance, prolong the nightmare.

A harder impact set off a ringing in your ears.

That hadn’t been water.

Waves already tangled around you again, but the smallest spark of hope had you fighting to the surface. Your arm hit against something solid, the force of the water dragging you against it tearing grazes into your skin.

Somehow you had ended up at the edge, where the river slammed at its banks. Currents tugged in every direction as you scrabbled to grasp something, anything, of the concrete walling you in.

For one terrifying instant, a rebounding swell overwhelmed you, forcing your fingertips away from land-

The next surge crashed around your ears, flinging you back the other way. Upwards, it scaled the wall and you made your last push.

Colliding with brick and metal, you threw your arms around a pole. As the hungry water sucked at your limbs, clawing to drag you down again, you clung to that railing with all the strength you had left.

The water fell away.

Releasing your grip, you collapsed onto the stone. Ignorant to everything beyond your own heartbeat, you were ignorant to footsteps rapidly firing closer. You only closed your eyes. And finally breathed.

Thank you for reading!💜💜

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[rd0265667]

Minji x Reader: Mercy, The Fool's Errand

TW!: Warning, there is quite alot of Violence and a slight bit of Gore(but there will be a TW before hand) A/N: Trying a more action oriented fic with Spiderwoman Minji, maybe will spring into something more 👀 Permanent Taglist: @cwpiqwon @justme-idle

Dropping down silently, Spider Woman landed behind a thug who was struggling to light a cigarette. Before the thug could react, Spiderwoman snatched the cigarette away, punching the thug in the gut. As he yelped in pain, she lit the cigarette, tossing it into his mouth, before webbing his mouth shut

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you smoking kills? Lucky for you, I’m way more effective than lung cancer. And a sucker for irony too.” Seeing more thugs, Spiderwoman webbed this thug up, swinging him and throwing him at the incoming thug. Jumping at the nearest thug, Spiderwoman webbed his mouth shut and gave him a quick uppercut, sending him sprawling into a pile of crates. The commotion caught the attention of two nearby thugs, who turned around, guns drawn. Spiderwoman launched herself at them, twisting mid-air to avoid their shots. She landed between them, delivered a rapid-fire punch to the first thug's gut, then spun around and kicked the second thug in the chest.

“I don’t get it—do you guys buy bullets in bulk? Costco membership? And seriously, where’s your safety training? Is there even safety on this gun?” Spiderwoman asked, before smacking him across the face with the butt of the rifle

The other thug staggers up, reaching for a knife. Spiderwoman webs the knife to her hand, tossing it straight into his chest. “Knife to meet you! Ha, I’ve been dying to use that one. Okay, technically I’m not the one dying, you are, but yada yada, spare me the semantics”

Another thug tried to surprise her from behind, swinging a crowbar. Spiderwoman ducked, then flipped backward, landing on the thug’s shoulders. Wrapping her arms around the thug, she jumped up, smashing his head into the ground as his neck jerked with a sickening crunch

“Crowbars? That’s cute. Didn’t know I was fighting a gang of Home Depot employees. You guys got discounts on those, or…? Meh, I don’t think dead employees get discounts. Oh well.”

SpiderWoman noticed a group of thugs at the far end of the warehouse, raising their guns. She shot a web at a nearby crate and swung it into them, knocking them down like bowling pins.

“Strike! And the crowd goes wild! Well, not really. But hey, you should see my high score at the arcade.”

As Spider woman landed, a thug swung a chain at her. She caught the chain mid-swing, yanked the thug forward, and clotheslined him.

“You know, I read somewhere that chainmail is making a comeback. But you, my friend, are not pulling it off.”

A thug sneaks up behind her, swinging a bat. Spiderwoman’s spider-sense tingles, and she ducks just in time. She webs the thug’s feet to the floor and yanks the bat out of his hands, twirling it like a baton.

“Batter up! Or should I say, ‘batter down’? No? Wow, tough crowd. Maybe I should stick to knock-knock jokes.”

She swings the bat, cracking it against the thug’s head, sending him spinning. The thug drops, twitching. Spiderwoman exaggeratedly raises her hand, running around the spot like a baseball game “And the crowd goes wild! Okay, nobody’s awake…or alive, but still. I’m a hit!”

Another thug tried to charge him with a bat. Spiderwoman sidestepped, grabbed the bat, and broke it over her knee, using the broken pieces to jab the thug in the shoulders, before a last one right in the stomach.

“Another goddamn bat? Really? What is this, amateur night? I’m expecting Joker to pop out and tell me this was all a prank.”

The last thug was backing away, visibly trembling, his gun shaking in his hands. Spiderwoman took a step forward, then another, until she was right in the thug’s face.

“Relax, man, I’m not gonna kill all of you. You, I’ll probably just ruin your evening. And maybe your dental work.”

Before the thug could respond, Spiderwoman webbed his gun to the ceiling and delivered a quick jab to the thug's stomach,followed by a punch to the face, the impact causing a crack in the ground Seeing the last thug left in the warehouse, Spiderwoman swung over, landing on the boxes next to the thug “I surrender, Don’t kill me!” The thug shouted out, dropping her gun to the ground. “Alright, but only if I get to tell you a joke.” Spiderwoman quips, twirling around a karambit she had found. “Okay!” The thug responded excitedly, relieved to have a way out. “Knock knock.” Spiderwoman started “Who’s there?” “Death.” Spiderwoman deadpanned “Death whrrg.” The thug began, before Spiderwoman dropped down, swiping the karambit across the thug's neck as she dropped to the ground, holding her neck as blood spurted wildly from the wound. “God I love Rowan Atkinson.” Spiderwoman chuckled to herself

“You know, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got a hot date. And maybe some takeout. Do bad guys even eat? I mean, it’s like you’re always here, doing the crime thing. You must have terrible Yelp reviews.”

Spiderwoman started walking toward the exit, then paused, looking back over his shoulder.

“By the way, if you’re thinking of sending more guys after me, here’s a tip: maybe hire a better interior decorator. This warehouse looks like the set of every bad action movie ever. Seriously, a potted plant wouldn’t kill you.”

She shot a web, swinging up into the rafters and disappearing into the shadows, leaving behind a warehouse full of groaning thugs and shattered crates.

As she swung away into the night, she muttered to herself, “I should really charge for this. Hero work, witty banter, interior design tips… Talk about multi-tasking.”

Her swing back to the rooftop was an uneventful one, thankfully. You were gonna kill her if you were late again, and she didn’t want to deal with that today. With a final swing, Minji soared into the air, landing with a final forward roll, jogging into the small shed at the rooftop. As she rushed into the shed, she smirked, leaning on the doorframe. “Just in time.” Minji said with a chuckle. Your eyes narrowed, staring at Minji, before shaking your head with a small sigh. “You’re cutting it close Kim. And to think I made your favourite for tonight.” “Ice cream?” Minji’s smile spread wide across her face. “Yep, mint chocolate.” You teased, Minji’s face dropping in horror. “You might be the worst person I’ve ever met. And I’ve literally met every villain in this city.” Minji said in horror “I’m kidding, its that cheesecake flavour you told me you liked that once.” You rolled your eyes, seeing Minji’s eyes widen, sparkling with excitement. “So what’s the special occasion? You even broke out the ice cream maker Auntie bought in that one garage sale?” Minji asked as she dug into the ice cream as if it was about to disappear. “If I recall, that was the garage sale you were supposed to help out in, but disappeared. Ahma was so pissed at you.” You jabbed with a chuckle, Minji wincing as she remembered those piercing, disappointed eyes that seemed to eat at her soul. Ghost Rider could never. “Not answering the question honey.” Minji teased, once again digging back into the bowl of ice cream before her. “I wanted to talk to you about reinstating your no kill rule.” You sat next to Minji, putting her hand in yours. “Nope.” Minji quickly replied, continuing to dig into the ice cream as if you had not said a word Taken aback, you quickly snatched the bowl away from Ice Cream away from Minji. You were well aware that if she wanted to, you couldn’t have taken that bowl from her if your life depended on it, but at least this proved she was listening. Somewhat at least. “I’m serious.” You gripped Minji’s hand tighter, trying to look her in the eyes “Ralph Dibny. Caitlin Luz. Joseph Wiegand. Corey Steele. Rachel Ong. 5 Dead, 236 people injured.” Minji stared at you dead in the eye. Your grip softened, you knew those names, you knew those numbers. The casualty report from the Goblin’s last attack, “If I had put the Goblin down the first time she tried anything, they would still be here. Rachel…She would still be here.”  Minji seethed in rage. “Kim Minjeong.” You rebutted. “What about her?” Minji asked, clearly irritated at this line of questioning. “You fought her at Silph Labs a month ago, when she tried to steal some tech prototype.” “And?” You walked over to the computer, all it took was some typing to pull up some articles. “Have you heard of this new hero in Moapa Valley? Winter Flare? That’s Kim Minjeong.” You brought up a new message tab of communication. “I’ve been in contact with Crimson Banshee, the vigilante at Moapa Valley. She figured out what Minjeong was using that prototype for.” You took a small brown file, handing it to Minji, who looked at the file in apprehension. “Open it.” You nudged, Minji sighing before opening the file. “Her name is Yu Jimin. She was suffering from a rare genetic disease, and it was fatal. That prototype was the only thing that could save Jimin, and it did. A few days ago, the prototype was found in the office, frozen in a block of ice, and now, Moapa has a new protector.” “Your point?” Minji asked, going back to the couch.

“Some of them deserve a second chance. Not all of them, of course. The Goblin, The Chuuker, the mass murderers, the monsters, put them in the ground. I have no moral argument about that. But some of them deserve at least a shot at redemption. Like Minjeong. Good people, forced by circumstance to do bad things. That doesn’t make them villains, they’re just desperate, lost. You’re a hero, Minji, children look up to Spiderwoman everyday, but parents are afraid, Minji. They don’t want their kids to think murder is the first answer to everything. Just killing them may seem like it’s the right way out, but it’s just the easy way out. Some of these people deserve a second chance, a shot at redemption, but if they choose to turn bad again, you’ll be there to stop them again, my amazing spiderwoman.” You placed your hand on her cheek, attempting to reassure her. “But what if they change, attack again, and I can’t stop them? The lives that they’ll take, they’re on me.” Minji’s tone lowered, hands trembling as fear overcame her. “I know it’s difficult, baby, but killing isn’t the answer. It’s chipping away at your soul. Please. Think about it?” You pleaded, to which Minji nodded. “Now, I believe I promised you movie night. So what movie shall it be?” You asked, cuddling into Minji on the couch, remote in your hand as you turned on the TV. “Well, I’d say Lilo and Stitch, but I’m not paying fucking 13 bucks a month Disney.” Minji said, turning to look into what was seemingly thin air. “Who are you talking to this time?” You asked amusedly, not new to Minji’s antics “Let’s just watch the Titanic for the 20th thousand time.” Minji said, causing you to giggle. “It’s a good movie, and I expect a little more leeway with movie selection after I spent the whole day after class churning your goddamn cheesecake ice cream.” You playfully rolled your eyes, causing Minji to roll her eyes in mocking response, before pulling you in for a cuddle. “Jack would have fit on that goddamn door by the way.”

Spiderwoman clings to a steel beam high above the construction site, her eyes scanning the ground below. She had heard chatters of a new self proclaimed Genius Villain in town. Smartest in the world. “How many Smartest people in the world are there? It’s like how many first Baptist churches I see around this city. Like, one of them got to actually be first right?” Spiderwoman grabbed the screen, pulling it toward her mouth like a mic to talk to the people on the other side. “Okay okay, this is what you readers came here for. It’s showtime, grab your popcorn, turn off that music you’re playing in the background. Shits about to get real.” Spiderwoman lets go off the screen, pushing it back into the air, before cracking her knuckles

“Alright, Scipio,” Spiderwoman calls out, her voice echoing through the empty site. “Time to settle the score. And before you ask, no, I don’t have a coupon for this ass-kicking, so you’re gonna have to take it full price.”

A shadow moves in the darkness below, and Scipio steps into the light. He’s dressed in tactical gear, his posture calm and ready. A rope dart, its metal tip glinting ominously, coils in his hand.

“Nice rope dart! I guess you’re planning to make me your personal piñata. Hope you brought enough candy for the both of us!” Spiderwoman quips, assessing the threat before her

“You’ve been busy, Spiderwoman,” Scipio says, his voice smooth. “But tonight, I’m going to show you that brains can beat brawn.”

Spiderwoman drops from the beam, flipping gracefully in mid-air before landing softly on the ground. She bounces lightly on the balls of her feet, adopting a fighting stance “Brains, huh? Let’s see how smart you feel when you’re wrapped up like a mummy in webs.”

Without warning, Scipio whips the rope dart toward her, the tip slicing through the air with a deadly hiss. Spiderwoman reacts instantly, firing a webline to a nearby beam and yanking herself out of its path. She swings in a wide arc, twisting her body to deliver a flying kick to Scipio’s head. He ducks just in time, but she’s already flipping over him, landing lightly on the other side.

“Cheap Shot Buster! But you’re gonna have to be quicker than that!” she taunts, shooting another webline to a distant crane and pulling herself upward. She swings from the web, her body swaying slightly as she observes him from above. “And try not to get dizzy from all this swinging around. I know it can be a lot to handle. I’ve got a good pharmacy guy if you need him.”

Scipio doesn’t waste any time. He snaps the rope dart back, the metal tip whipping around his body as he takes aim. Spiderwoman swings toward him, her body twisting mid-air as she dodges the dart again, using a webline to redirect herself upward. She lands on a high beam, crouched and ready.

“Nice toy you got there,” she quips, firing a web to a nearby scaffold and using it to slingshot herself downward. “But mine’s better.” She somersaults through the air, aiming to land a kick on Scipio’s chest. But he’s prepared—he spins the rope dart around him, creating a whirling barrier that she narrowly avoids.

“Looks like you’re dancing with danger!” she shouts, using her webs to dodge and weave through the air. “I hope you’ve been taking dance lessons.”

Scipio growls in frustration and charges, his rope dart whipping through the air with deadly precision. Spiderwoman spins away, flipping into the air and firing webs to keep him off balance. She catches the dart mid-air and spins it around her hand, using it as a makeshift weapon to parry his next attack.

“Whoa, you’re really sticking to your guns—literally!” she jokes, a barrel role to narrowly dodge the rope dart. “But I’m afraid your aim is a little off. Better luck next time!”

Scipio narrows his eyes, clearly annoyed. He lunges at her with a series of rapid, precise strikes, but she dodges and counters, her movements a blur of agility and acrobatics. With a flourish, Scipio sends the rope dart with astonishing speed, though Spiderwoman was able to narrowly dodge, allowing the rope dart to twirl around her, sending it back at Scipio, causing him to duck, knocking him off his balance

“You’re like a cat in a laser pointer shop,” Spiderwoman quips, spinning around to land a kick to his ribs. “Always swatting at things you can’t quite catch!”

Scipio stumbles, but he catches himself, spinning around to deliver a backhand that Spiderwoman barely dodges. She retaliates with a series of punches, but Scipio blocks most of them, using her momentum against her to throw her off balance, one gap in her attack all he needed to knock her back.

Spiderwoman lands lightly on her feet, her breath coming in quick bursts. This guy is good—really good. But she’s not done yet. Not by a long shot. “Oh you’re good. As the shitheads on Mobile Legends say, Music.” Spiderwoman says, quickly followed by two quick claps, before lunging back at Scipio

She fires a web at a steel beam, yanking herself into the air. Scipio follows, leaping after her with lightning quick agility. But Spiderwoman has the advantage here—she swings from beam to beam, her experience of fighting mid swing proving advantageous as she dodged, bobbed, and parried everything Scipio tried to throw at her

“Catch me if you can!” she shouts, twisting mid-air to avoid a punch and landing a spinning kick to his head. “Or, you know, keep missing and I’ll just keep making jokes. Your call!”

Scipio reels from the kick, but he recovers quickly, grabbing her leg and pulling her down to the ground with him. They hit the concrete hard, but Spiderwoman uses the momentum to roll away, springing back to her feet. She fires a web to a nearby crane and pulls herself up, swinging in a wide arc before dropping down on Scipio from above. He raises his arms to block, but she’s too fast—she lands a solid punch to his jaw, followed by a kick to his chest that sends him crashing into a pile of rubble.

Scipio groans, struggling to get back to his feet. But Spiderwoman is already moving, her webs snapping out to wrap around his arms and legs. She yanks him off the ground, swinging him in a wide arc before slamming him into a steel beam. The impact reverberates through the site, and Scipio collapses to the ground, dazed.

Spiderwoman lands lightly beside him, breathing hard. Her fists clench and unclench as she stares down at him, her mind racing. She could end it all right now—just one more hit, and he’d be done for. “Go ahead.  I’ve heard all about this before. Spiderwoman, the penumbra of this city. End me.” Scipio said, out of breath “Shut up.” Spiderwoman sighs. You were right. There was a better way to do this. With a shake of the head, Spiderwoman turns to walk away. “You’re letting me go?” Scipio questioned

Spiderwoman gazes down at him, her expression unreadable. “Because someone believes there is a better way to do things,” she says quietly. “And I’m starting to believe it too.”

She webs him to the ground, ensuring he won’t be going anywhere until the authorities arrive. “Don’t feel so smart now, do you, genius?” As she prepares to swing away, she looks back at him one last time, her voice hardening.

“Consider yourself lucky,” she says, her tone cold. “This is your one chance, repent, use that big brain for the good of society. But this is a warning, if I ever see you again, I won’t be making any more promises. And next time, bring more than just a rope dart.”

In the wreckage of the construction site, Scipio laid there, groaning in pain, though a small smile on his face. The fight might have been lost, but the war had just begun. It was not a war he anticipated being alive to see, but he wasn’t complaining. As the dot blinked on the screen on his wrist, Scipio smirked. Revenge would be swift, precise, fiery.

Exhausted, Minji walked into the shed. “How’d it go?” You asked, tossing her her usual isotonic drink. “I did it. New Guy in town, Scipio. I think he just wanted to test his skill against mine. He’s smart, and he’s good. Really good. Hopefully he uses the second chance wisely.” Minji said, leaning into the back hug you had thrown her into. “I’m proud of you.” You said, ruffling her hair as Minji smiled. “Alright, I’m going down to the chemistry labs to make some more web fluid.” Minji said, yawning as she tossed her suit to a corner, dressing down into a more comfortable jumpsuit. “Alright, I’ll do some research on Scipio while you’re gone, then maybe we'll go for supper?” You asked “You read my mind bro.” Minji chuckled, walking to you at your chair, leaving a small kiss on your forehead, before heading down the building to the chemistry lab.

Minji hummed a soft tune as she mixed the chemicals she needed. It was a slow process, but after so much time spent crime fighting, this time spent had become more or less a routine for her. She leaned back on her stool, allowing her mind to drift as she swirled the beaker in her hand. As she swirled it, however, she suddenly had a heavy feeling in her chest, the same feeling when her spidey senses go into overdrive. “Damn, I’ve been working too hard, maybe some chimichangas later.” Minji joked to herself, but as she swirled the beaker, she could not shake the horrible feeling. Now slightly wary, Minji got up from her seat, looking around the lab. “Alright, Monster in the closet, the Sonic CGI before we told Paramount they could go fuck themselves. Come out, come out wherever you are.” Minji called out, only to be met with silence, before hearing a deafening scream. Minji’s face paled. She bolted out of the lab, going as fast as her legs could take her, running up the stairs, only to recoil in horror as she saw the shed in flames. “Y/N!” She screamed out, hoping to find you amidst the rubble. Jumping into the shed, looking around, frantically looking for you. Seeing your hand sticking out amidst the dust, she jumped in, picking you up in a fireman’s carry, before running out from the shed. “Hey, babe, it’s okay, you’re safe now.” Minji whispers to you, holding you tight against her chest. “Babe?” Minji whispered, realising that you were unreactive. She placed a finger to your neck, her trembling hands realising you didn’t have a pulse. “No, No, No, Not again, this can’t be happening again.” Minji muttered under her breath Minji quickly tried CPR, her chest compressions growing more frantic as you remained unresponsive. Minji collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily as she fell back in horror. Looking to her hand, she quickly vibrated her hand, seeing small blue sparks of electricity forming on her hand. A power that she had found not too long ago, and your last hope. With trembling hands, Minji placed her hand on your chest, causing your body to jolt up in the air, but you remained unconscious. The sounds of sirens quickly flooded the area, the alarm clearly having been tripped by the fire. As the medics rushed the area, Minji let the paramedics around your body. After some checks, Minji saw the medic look to her watch, confirming her worst fear. As Minji fell back to the ground, stunned as the paramedics wheeled you away, she noticed something in the corner. Her suit. She slowly walked over to it, noticing a small blinking red light you had not noticed before, accompanied by a note. “With regards from the New Rogues, and Scipio ~Inferno.” Minji’s fist tightened, sparks flying out from her fist.

“Where are they! You have 10 seconds to tell me, before I gouge your eyeballs out.” Minji screamed, punching the thug she had found, webbing him upside down. “I don’-” Before the thug could finish his sentence, Minji punched him in the face, his head thrashing through the cinder wall behind him, jaw agape. “You next. Tell me something I want to hear or your jaw won’t even stay on like that guy’s.” Minji threatened. “Okay, okay, I heard some chatter of some gathering in a warehouse downtown. Let me go, please, I don’t want any trouble.” He screamed out. Minji nodded, turning around. “Hey, mind letting us down genius?” The thug screamed out, before Minji webbed his mouth, before giving it a rough yank, Minji swinging away from the source of the screams, his jaw hanging over his nose.

Minji’s eyes darkened as she perched atop the warehouses. Seeing light from the warehouse next to this one, she swung over, seeing Scipio, beside him being 3 other costumed figures, one with his hands over Scipio, seemingly healing him from the injuries he had suffered prior. Minji jumped down from the warehouse, landing on her toes, walking slowly into the warehouse. The other 3 villains were shocked, crouching into fighting stances as they kept their eyes on Minji. Scipio, however, chuckled as he watched Minji walking in. “Like the gift, Spiderwoman? As you can see, I’ve brought a lot more than a rope dart this time. I present to you, my new rogues. That there is Specter, this here is Gaze, and my friend over there is Inferno, the one responsible for sending you your gift.” Scipio said, winding his rope dart around his arm. “What, cat got your tongue? No more quips anymore genius?” Scipio questioned, smirking, believing he had broken Minji’s spirit. He had broken something, though he was gonna wish he hadn’t “Answer the boss when he’s talking to you!” Specter shouted, deciding to bum rush Minji. In one fluid move, Minji webbed Specter in the forehead, harshly yanking it, causing him to hit the ground hard on his face. Minji walked up to Specter, palming his head and lifting him up by his head, staring dead at the 3 other villains.

TW! Slightly Gory

Without a word, Minji’s hands began to shoot off sparks, Specter’s body shaking in Minji’s hand, the current running through his head, his eyeballs popping from his head, hanging from his eyes like a pinata at a halloween party, and his body began to smell like burnt charcoal. “What the fuck!” Scipio shouted out in shock. Tossing the body to a side, Minji shot her webs upward, pulling down the only light source in the room, causing it to crash down around the 3 villains left, as they all jumped out of the way. Minji’s eyes burned with rage, the darkness her ally as she lunged into action

“Reaper to Wildcat, I’m at the warehouse, checking out the disturbance. I’ll report back in a short while.” The figure shrouded in a black cloak, a sickle in hand said into their comlink “Roger that Reaper. Be careful, we don’t know what happened in there.” Wildcat’s voice rang through the comms, though it was quickly snuffed out by a scream from inside the warehouse. The Reaper bolted in, seeing copious amounts of blood stains on the ground, the charred body of Specter laying on the ground, eyeballs all but disconnected, skin charred, his two legs seemingly having been torn off. “What in the world?” The reaper muttered under their breath, walking cautiously into the next room, only to stop in shock. The Reaper had seen alot in their crime fighting escapades, many many atrocities, but none came even close to this sight. “What have you done!” The reaper screamed out. In the middle of the room, crouched Minji, standing upon a web the shade of dark crimson red. But this web was not spun of silk, instead, the web was formed by a grotesque collaboration of limbs, ligaments, muscles, a crimson red web of anger and gore

“I did what I had to.” Minji coldly replied, standing up and jumping in front of the Reaper. “Where are the villains?” The reaper demanded to know. “Some here, some there, some on the ceiling. But alive. For now at least. I’ll finish up in a moment. I need the web to be complete, to send a message to the wannabe villains of the world.” Minji nonchalantly said, gesturing to the corner. In the corner laid 3 bodies of the villains, all in different states of being. Missing limbs, faces burned, clawed off, jaw ripped clean off. They all laid, screaming in agony.

(We good from here on) “You can’t do this!” The Reaper shouted out in horror. “Why not? These villains don’t understand logic. So I speak the only language they speak, violence, splayed out so undeniably in their face that they’d fucking shoot themselves in the stomach before daring to step out of their houses in their shitty spandex or their half cooked schemes. “And what if villains take notice and want to kill you to make a name for themselves?” The reaper demanded to know “Then I expand my web.” Minji said

“I thought you changed recently. I heard of your fight with Scipio. You went back to how it was before the Goblin killed Rachel. But that’s gone again? I had faith in you, convinced wildcat to give you time, that in time, you’d show mercy.” The reaper said, before Minji let out a shrill chuckle “Mercy? Mercy cost me Rachel. Mercy cost me my aunt and Uncle. Mercy cost me my friends, my family. Mercy’s an easy thing to preach, when everyone you love is a goddamn superhero, Reaper. Mercy sounds good, until it bites the hand that feeds like the ungrateful dog it is, the mercy extended to these subhuman animals. Mercy cost me….it cost me Y/N. They were my second chance, my happiness after so much time of anger and hatred, and Mercy took them away from me. Hah, Mercy, the fool's errand”

[starsomens]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 10 •... 𝓘'𝓿𝓮 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓬𝓪𝓶𝓮

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Warnings: Guns! Violence! Mentions of Blood and fighting and stabbing! Horribly written action i am so sorry...characters depicted to be hurt, blood mentions, chloroform used, language, DESCRIPTION CHARACTER DEATH!

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Unaware of how many hours had passed, you only knew that you had dozed off briefly. Despite your best efforts to free yourself, your attempts were futile. Unknown to you, someone was outside orchestrating your rescue. In a nearby forest, just off the property, Noah and his men were preparing their move.

"We do this clean, short, and efficiently," Noah spoke as he stood among his men. Their vans parked just outside of Lucien's perimeter "Get Y/N, kill who you must and get the fuck out. I don't want one hair on her head gone is that understood?"

"Yes sir!" his men cry in unison, Jolly then steps forward

"Folio will head the initial group to create our entry point, then my team and I will follow to ensure a clear path for Noah to locate Y/N," he gestures towards Nick, who is equipping the van with surveillance and medical gear. "Nick is our support; his word is our command. If he says we retreat, we retreat."

"Yes sir!"

Folio rolls his ski mask down to cover his face his signature grin still evident on his face "let's rock this bitch."

He loaded his bullets into the chamber, started his bike, and revved the engine. Leading the first group on his motorcycle with the rest following on foot, they approached the gates, which were rigged to blow open, providing Folio with the opportunity to charge in. Most would consider this move foolish, but there was a reason he was known as The MadMan. Diving headfirst into danger only fueled his adrenaline rush.

Although Nick remains in the rear, he is crucial as their sniper. Despite the distance, he is the most skilled sharpshooter they possess. The abrupt breach of the front gates startled Lucien's men, who rushed from the large house, armed and prepared to shoot any intruders. With shots exchanged, some men fell while others were merely grazed by bullets, providing Jolly and his team the opportunity to advance, paving the way for Noah and additional reinforcements.

Noah has one goal, and one goal alone. And that was to get to you. Knowing Lucian and the layout of his building, he knew that he kept most captives in the basement. Now, typically most people would not be attempting something like this however, Noah was not most people. Lucien knew exactly what he was capable of. And that’s why this place was crawling with so many of his goons. But it wasn’t enough to stop Noah.

Y/N:

The door to your cell swung open as Lucien and Denise stepped inside. You could barely make out the commotion outside, but you were certain it was Noah causing it. Denise moved around you, untying the ropes that bound you.

"Get up," you hear a click, and suddenly, you're staring down the barrel of a gun mere inches from your face. "Looks like your hardheaded boy is here," Lucien growls deeply. As soon as the ropes loosen, you rise from your chair and wait for Denise to come into view, her piercing blue eyes scrutinizing you from head to toe.

"look at you now," he sneers "just a pathetic bitch who had got lucky for a few months," a shit eating grin graced her face

"and look at you...Noah still doesn't want you," you lean in closer "what a pathetic little bitch....chasing after a man who doesn't care about her or her dumb ass little-"

Another sharp slap comes to the same cheek from before, this time it stung so much more than before. Before you could react a clothes was held up against your nose and mouth. You struggled and fight as Lucien grips yours arms behind your back. Your visions blurs, you can't breath properly, your knees felt weak, you blink you blink your eyes to stay awake but you are consumed by darkness in mere seconds.

noah

As they ascended the stairs into the cooler, darker parts of the building, bodies were dropping like flies. Each door was violently forced open in a frantic search for you. Yet, each room revealed itself to be just as vacant as the previous, escalating his desperation. At last, reaching the final door at the corridor's end, he kicked it in, expecting to find you tied to an empty chair. His blood boiled with rage, his heart pounded against his chest, the rush of blood roaring in his ears. He knew you had been there, and now you had vanished once more.

“FUCK!” Let out frustrated grunt as he kicks the chair against the wall “ I don’t care how you do it, who you have to kill, turn this place inside out. And fucking find her,”

“Oh we don’t have to go there now do we Sebastian?” a familiar voice comes close as shoes click their way down the hall. His eyes are empty of any compassion or empathy. Looking over his shoulder his eyes land on none other than Alfred.

Betrayal. Bastard. Mother Fucker. Piece of shit!

Noah brushes past his men and grab Alfred by the collar and shoves him against the wall "You fucking bastard, where is she?!"

"Now Mr-" Noah crashes his forehead against his nose. A crack and groan filled the hall

"Shut the fucks up and tell me where!" Noah was not up for playing any games. He presses him into the wall more, putting pressure on his throat,

"L-Lucien's o-ffice...."He stutters, blood trickling down his nose and into his mouth. Noah releases his grip, and he collapses to the ground. Looking at his men he says,

“Tie him up, take him to Nick. I’ll deal with him later,” he commands his men, and if looks could kill. Alfred would have been obliterated on the spot

“Yes sir,” the pick up Alfred and start to escort him out of the building. Alfred knew exactly where he was going, and it would be far from anything pleasant…. Securing his gun into his waistband, he starts running out of the basement and up to the last floor where Lucien would be,

“Noah!,” his ear piece rang “what are you doing—“

“I’m not going to let her sit there waiting for something to happen to her,”

“Think for a second Noah! This is what he wants!” Nick tried to reason with him “you need to think! He could be planning to kill you!"

"Well what the fuck else am I supposed to do Nick?" Noah asks in frustration as he ascends the stairs to his office.

"I've got a plan, but you need to stall him," Nick said typing away at keyboard in the VAN, "Stall him until I'm able to blow a portion of the building, it'll be enough for us to get Y/N, and get out of here," it wasn't a solid proof plan, but the main objective here was to get you out.

Noah stands outside the office, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He harbors a fierce desire to confront Lucien for daring to touch you. Shifting his gun to rest out of sight behind his back, he grasps the handles and pushes the double doors open. They swing wide to reveal Lucien in his usual place, seated behind his large desk, a cigar perched between his lips.

As Noah stepped in, it was reminiscent of the first time he had been accepted into V.A.N. His footsteps were softened by the carpet as his gaze swept the room, searching for any discrepancies or concealed adversaries. However, what he discovered was Mathew, slumped against the wall, appearing almost lifeless. He stops a few feet away from the desk

"where is she..." he asks once

"You know, I still remember the day I took you under my wing. A teenager with nothing but potential," he said, rising from his desk and approaching a portrait on the wall. It depicted a younger Noah, standing beside him and other members. "I recognized a bit of myself in you. You were detached, strategic, willing to do whatever it took to rise to the top… and now, look at you."

He turns to face Noah with a sneer "killing my men for some bitch who ain't worth half of what you are,"

Denise slithers into the room like a snake sneaking up to its prey. She comes up to Noah and trails her fingers over his shoulder to rest on his chest,

"Hi Noah...did you miss me?" she asks in an annoyingly sweet tone. Noah was still focused on Lucien

"She didn't want you, left you, disrespected you… just leave, marry Denise, take over V.A.N. It will all be over, you can start anew," he steps forward two steps, "and we can continue as if none of this ever happened."

"Where is she...." Noah asked once again, ignoring Denise and disregarding Lucien's offer "Just give her back, and I'll leave....."

"Well she is here," he scoffs as he walks towards a closet off to the side of the room, opening it your body slumps out of the space, motionless "Just not in the best state"

"Y/N," he rushes to you and kneels at your side. Holding your head in his hand as his other gently touches your face, smoothing over the purple mark growing on your cheek. "y/n, princess come on wake up for me..." he said it so softly. Like he didn't want to wake you, but he needed to know you were alive, that you were okay....

"You got 2 options here Noah," Noah didn't dare look at Lucien "You can leave here in one piece, and follow what should be. Or you can both go down...or should I say three," he huffed referred to Mathew still slumped against the wall

"Lucien...." he gently laid you on the ground as he slowly rose from the ground "....do you remember when you beat the shit out of me for touching your shit?"

"Little shit....you had to learn to not touch what's min-" a punch landed right to his jaw cutting him off from his sentence. He groans as an intense anger burned inside of him "Oh you Mother Fucker!" The two exchanged blows and ducks, swings and throws. Lucien was hit, Noah had sustained a nose bleed.

All the commotion stirred you to finally come to

"mmm...n-noah...." you just knew it was him. His fuzzy figure as he ducks and swings. While Lucien may have trained Noah, he was older and slower, Noah was much swifter and managed to get Lucien into a headlock.

"Noah it's ready! Get the fuck out, now!" Nick speaks into his ear. Using all of his force, he tried his best to push Lucian into the corner of the room. He runs over to Matthew and grab him by the shirt and shake him a bit. His eyes blink open, still in a daze

"Fucking wake up Mathew come on-ah!" Lucien is on Noah again gripping him into a headlock. Noah thrashed and tried his best to get out of the man's grip. He took a chance and reached behind him and pushed his thumbed into his sockets, freeing himself.

Just like a guardian angel coming to his rescue Jolly stops in the doorway. Finding Noah to get him out of the building before it was blown.

"Jolly get Y/N out of here!" he grunts as he blocks blows and tries to land more,

"Noah we need to--"

"TAKE HER NOW!" There's a loud thump as he pushes Lucien to the wall and holding him there for Jolly to pick you up. Jolly runs inside, grabs you and picks you up, running out of the room. Your hand weakly reaching for Noah as he becomes a small fuzzy figure. You felt as though you were moving in slow motion, you could feel every step Jolly took, every turn he made, once outside he rushes you to Nick. He lays you down in the emergency bed in the van so Nick could examine you, making sure there were no severe injuries. Jolly was about to leave the VAN again before you grab his hand stopping him

"W-where's Noah?" you ask

"He's still inside, I'm going back for him-" Jolly answers grabbing a pistol and loading it

"Jolly you can't we're about to blow this shit-"

"He's still fucking in there!"

"The count is already happening I can't fucking stop it!" The two long haired men were going on it. Jolly wanted to rush in, and Nick couldn't stop the count down. While they were arguing, time was ticking by. You stand up and move as quick as you could out of the van and start walking towards the large building again. You were convinced if you stumbled fast enough you could make it to Noah. Meanwhile Jolly and Nick call after you to come back. You felt as if you were so close! So damn CLOSE!

BAAAM!

The building busted into flames before your eyes. The loud explosion made yours hands fly to your ears an duck down for cover. Looking back at the scene all you could scream was,

“NOO!”

. . . . . . .

It was so sudden when the explosion went off. It threw both Lucian and Noah off-balance. Not even worrying to fight one another anymore, but to cover their heads from falling debris. When Noah opens his eyes once again, he was surrounded by rubble and fire. Most of the building was still intact, but before was starting to cave in on itself. He was still conscious, which meant he still had a chance to get out.

He coughs into his hand, trying to block out as much smoke as he could. He knew this place like the back of his hand he could run out without even looking up. Once he was on his feet and he started to walk his ankle was then grabbed by a grip of pure venom.

“You!” Lucien coughed “you’re not going anywhere! If I go down, you’re going down with me and this shit hole!!” There was a sudden sharp pain in Noah’s ankle. Lucien wasn’t going down without a fight, and chose to shank. No falls to his knees again as he screamed out in pain.

this wasn’t the first time that Noah had seen the fury in his eyes. However, he never thought that he would be on the receiving end of it. He tried to shake him off as best as he could. But the smoke was starting to get to him, and his vision was going fuzzy.

The floor underneath Lucien started to creek as his knee sinks into a hole in the floorboards. Noah had to get out of there before the floor came in on itself. He padded his waistband to find his gun, only to find that it was empty.

“You…little shit. Coming here, attacking me, blowing up my fucking building. Over some bitch who can’t keep her mouth shut—“

And those were his last words. Before bullet went straight into the side of his skull, loosening the grip on nose ankle. Gazing at the bullet hole, he follows the path that the bullet took to see Matthew holding up the gun that was used to kill the head of the mafia. The heavy weapon shook in his hole from the adrenaline and trauma that his body has endured.

He stands up and walks to Noah. He grabs his arm and swings it over his shoulders, holding his waist as they stumble out of the burning building. With every step, Noah felt his lungs grow tighter, and his ankle burn. Matthew was saying something, but he couldn’t exactly make out what it was.

His body felt weak, as if he was ready to collapse and fade into darkness, spiraling down towards an endless hell for all the crimes he had committed. His breath was short, and he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

The only thing he could hear from Matthew’s muffled words was your name. Just the sound of your name. It was almost as if his life started flashing before his eyes. All he could see was you—your smile, the way your nose crinkles in the cold, the way you always sat in the same spot on the couch. Everything about you filled his mind…those eyes…those eyes he loved.

how he'd love to see them before....before....bef....

Y/N

"NOAH!" you screamed watching the place go up in flames. Noah's men flooding out of the doors running back to safety. His men were there...but Noah wasn't. You're back on your feet stumbling to the building but Folio stops you

"Y/N don't! Stop what are you doing-"

"Noah is in there I have to-"

"Y/N you can't go int here you'll get yourself killed!"

"Noah is in there!" you slowly stop fighting as you watch the flames devouring and breaking down the building. You could feel yours eyes burn with tears as Nick guides you back until you see a figure walking towards you.

"Noah?" you whispered. as they come into view you see it's Matthew practically dragging Noah away from the building. He makes a few more steps until they both fall to the ground. Nick stops moving and turns back to look behind him, Jolly starts to rush over and so do you. You run to them, you heart is pounding, your hands sweaty and your eyes full of tears and hope. You get to them and fall to your knees

"Noah, Noah? Noah look at me!" you bring his head into your lap, his eyes were closed and his breathing shallow "Noah please! Open your eyes.....Please!" you sniff as your tears fall from your eyes and on to his face

"Please....I need you to wake up....please....I love you..." you wrap your arms around his body as best as you could and rock him in your arms, "I love you..I love you...I love you...please...." your body starts to shake from your cries

Jolly steps toward you carefully, ready to comfort and console you

"Noah...please wake up...please baby look at me please....I....I need you..."

"Y/N....come on let's get back to the-"

*COUGH COUGH* Noah's body convulses in coughs as his lungs fill with clear air and comes back to consciousness. Your hands come up to brush the hair from his eyes and to caress his dirty but soft skin

"Noah...Noah you're alive..." he gives you a weak smirk and says

"I couldn't....*cough* not say I love you back,"

“You’re so….stupid,” you said as Noah does his best to hold you in his arms. He knew that those words meant that you were glad he was alive. And he was beyond grateful to have seen your face again. But most of all to hear that sweet face of those three words. While you checked on Matthew Noah was carried back to the van by Nick and Jolly.

His men would arrive later to cover up the scene, making it look as if nothing had happened. For now, you both needed medical attention. In the van, Nick insisted on giving you a full body scan. You protested, saying you were fine and just a bit roughed up. But Nick knew better than to skip medical treatment. Noah would never let it go if even one scratch on your body was left untreated. In your opinion, Noah, who was severely roughed up, needed most of the attention.

As Nick looked over the scans from VAN's medical scan he stopped for a second to overlook something.

"Y/N, do you feel strange at all?"

"well, aside from my cheek I'm just fine," you said slightly flinching as Noah applied a cold pack to your cheek. Nick printed out the results on the screen and handed it to you both. Reading through the reading as best as you could one word stood out to you. Your eyes were blown wife, Noah took the paper from you and looked it over again and again,

"I think we should get you to a hospital before we confirm anything...but in the mean time....it looks like you're going to need a bigger car Noah,"

"so.....what happens now? Especially with this?" you asked and Noah looks at you. His hand comes up to caress your face. His thumb running over the skin under your eye

"now....." his other hand comes down to your stomach and rests on top of it. Knowing what his future holds, what he has to do, and who he has to do it for. Your forehead comes to meet his, beat up, bleeding and bruised and all he could feel in this moment was his love for you and your baby,

"We rebuild this kingdom our way.…”

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

END

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[writersdrug]

Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 1)

Next ->

Summary: Your "situation" with Ghost went sour, and to ensure that the two of you wouldn't tear the team apart with your fighting, Captain Price sells you to a different private company. You jump from group to group, not really fitting in anywhere, until a risky mission forces you and Konig to bond with each other. The both of you are inseparable.

It comes to light that someone's put a target on your back; you discovered classified information somewhere along hopping between Special Forces groups. The information leads to an issue much deeper and corrupted than anyone had imagined, leading KORTAC and SPECGRU to work together. You realize that time never healed anything, and things would only get worse between you and Ghost - and, now, Konig.

WARNINGS: writer only played COD once or twice, foul language, eventual smut, descriptive gore, angst, Google translate German, torture, violence, mentions of rape (not descriptive, after the fact)

Chapter warnings: mentions of smut (after the fact), foul language

Deep, rhythmic, warm breaths caressed the back of my neck. Simon’s arm was lazily draped over my waist and my hand rested on top of his. His other arm wrapped under and around my neck, holding my other hand loosely against my own shoulder. Our legs intertwined with each other’s, my back was pressed against his chest, and my soul reveled in the warmth that radiated from his being. A thin duvet was loosely draped over our bodies, doing little to keep us warm. Yet a thin layer of sweat still clung to our skin from our intense actions, only a few minutes ago.

I couldn’t help but smile as I thought back to our passion. Every taste was still lingering on my tongue; every touch and kiss and caress still left a blazing trail on my skin. I pulled Simon’s arm tighter around my waist and scooted my back against him. He let out a guttural sigh in response, massaging the skin over my stomach and sighing into my neck. He pushed himself closer to me and squeezed my hands.

“What’s on your mind, Simon?” I asked in a playful voice.

“Mm… what do you think?” he grumbled sleepily. My heart fluttered as he moved his hand down my waist and over my thigh, then back up to squeeze my hip. I arched my back against him, craving more of his touch.

I sighed contentedly. “I wish this didn’t have to end. God, Simon… I could lie here with you forever.” I kissed his arm that held my shoulder.

I waited for a response – So could I. I would never let you go. Why don’t we sleep in, get a late start tomorrow? Who cares if anyone sees you leaving my room? It’s about time people knew about us. A kiss. A squeeze. Even a grunt of acknowledgement. But he remained silent and unmoving, like he couldn’t give a response. Or that he didn’t want to.

An uneasiness settled in my stomach. I tried again, shifting my hips against him and letting out a small whimper, disguised as a yawn. I expected him to hold my hips and grind into me. However, he stayed completely still, forcing himself not to react.

I smiled to myself. He’s just worn out. It’s early in the morning, maybe he doesn’t have the energy to banter. I pushed the uneasy feeling away, assuming his lack of a response was due to something completely reasonable and normal. I forced myself to focus on the moment, the feelings of his warm skin on mine, his breaths on my neck-

Simon sighed. “Bonnie…” he started.

“Call signs now?” I quipped, rolling over to look at him. I did my best to stomp out the anxious flame in my stomach, although I couldn’t help the frown that creeped onto my face. “What, is it time for work already?”

I noticed his face was grim, somber. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. His hand was slowly squeezing my hip, kneading the skin gently… he was thinking, turning over some mind-bending thought in his head. I gently placed my hand on the side of his face and directed it towards mine, yet he still refused to meet my gaze.

“Simon, what’s wrong?” I asked.

He closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. A foreboding sign of his next words.

“This was a mistake.”

My chest immediately felt constricted. For a second, I forgot to breathe. “What?” I pulled my hand away from him.

Simon’s arm left my waist and rested in between us. “Don’t get me wrong here… I loved what we had. You’re amazing in every sense of the word. But, sweetheart…“ he sighed, still looking away from me. “I think it’s gone a bit far, don’t you? It wasn’t even supposed to go on this long.”

Loved. I sat up, my eyes never leaving Simon’s despite the fact that he still wouldn’t look at me.

“We both said at the beginning that this was just for fun. But lately, I feel like you’ve… well, you treat it like we’re beyond that point, yeah? I mean, you’ve been acting like we’re a thing – maybe not outright, but the way you’re acting around everyone else, the way you’re acting around me in public… I’m starting to feel like it’s become more than that to you.”

“Why are you saying this now?” I asked. I knew the question was pointless. Was there ever a good time to say it?

Finally, Simon looked me in the eyes. There was a hint of regret and sincerity in his face. “I just think we need to end this now, before we get too… attached, to each other. Before we make any serious mistakes.”

Before… I felt my heart sink as I processed the words, and their meaning.

“Do you see what I’m sayin’ here?” he asked, now propped up on one shoulder. He looked at me with a pleading yet cautious gaze.

I stared blankly back, even though I couldn’t actually see him. All I could focus on was the devastating feeling in my gut. My mind began racing, my heart started pounding – and this painful sense of dread flooded my veins. I understood exactly what he was saying. Despite my body having an initial reaction, my brain was slower to process any impending emotions. Before… what does he mean ‘before’? Didn’t we get to that point already? Mistake? How long has he thought this? Has he been lying to me the whole time?

I quickly stopped my thoughts from unravelling in my head. No. No no no no no. I needed to get out of here before the pain could catch up to me.

I immediately rolled out of the makeshift bed – two cots pushed together against the wall with an extra layer of sheets underneath – and picked up my clothes that had been tossed across the floor. I have to go. I have to go before this hurts.

Ghost sat up quickly and scooted back against the wall. “Well, wait – don’t you wanna talk about this?”

“No.” was all I said as I pulled on my panties and sweatpants, making quick work of putting my bra back on. I suddenly felt naked – not in the way before, where I wanted Ghost to see and feel every inch of my skin. Now I felt ashamed, humiliated, ridiculous, stupid, stupid –

“Please, love- “ Ghost made his way from the bed and over to me. “ – you need to let me explain –“

I turned away from him as I finished pulling my shirt over my head. “No.” I said again, hopping in place as I rushed to put my socks on. The room was suddenly cold, making me want to curl in on myself and hide somewhere. But I needed to get away from him before I could let myself feel anything. I sat on the edge of the bed and quickly pulled my shoes on.

Once again, I had let myself become vulnerable in hopes of finding some sort of comfort, some kind of goodness. And just like always, it made things worse than before. When will I ever fucking learn. Rage slowly started to mix with the embarrassment and the pain.

I grabbed my dog tags off of the nightstand as Ghost trailed my every move. “Can you fuckin’ grow up and listen to me?!” he shouted, arms outstretched, pleading, as I fumbled with my laces. “Christ, don’t act like this is news, you knew this wasn’t supposed to be anything serious. This is on you for not ending it sooner. I didn’t want to bring this up myself because, well…” he gestured to me as I angrily made my way to the door, following closely behind. “… this. I knew you would fuckin’ freak out on me. Look at you! You never face your mistakes, you’re running away like a fuckin’ coward, you are- “

I’d heard enough. I turned towards him sharply and threw a hard punch right to his face – his left eye, to be precise. He stumbled backwards with a surprised grunt, his hand flying to his face. He looked at me in total shock and anger – I met his eyes, my expression furious. Of course, I knew he was right, but I didn’t care. I just wanted him to be quiet and let me go, before he could see any sort of emotional reaction from me.

I punched his door open and began storming down the hall. The tears started to finally fall – but that was ok. My back was to Ghost. He wouldn’t see them. My breaths became rugged and sharp as I started to process everything that had happened. I jumped at the sound of Ghost slamming his door, followed by the muffled sound of him cursing.

I entered my room and quickly shut the door behind me. My things fell onto the floor as I let my emotions take over my body. I was shaking. Fucking get it together! I couldn’t. A part of me thought I was being extremely overdramatic. After all, we had agreed in the beginning – no strings attached. I was the one who pushed so hard for that. Why does it hurt so much? I was the one who broke the rules. I was angry with myself… and also with Ghost. Why? I couldn’t put my finger on it. Maybe…

I just thought he might have felt the same. He didn’t have to push me away so harshly. Why did he wait so long to say something? More importantly, Why does it hurt this much? Why did I let this happen?

I slid against the door until I sat on the ground, knees up to my chest. I sobbed into my hands. Everything was so messed up. I didn’t know who to be angry at; hell, I didn’t know if I could be angry at anyone. Maybe this was all my fault, and I just had to clean up and move on. But it felt like there was a black hole in my chest, sucking everything in and still feeling empty. I had to figure out how to fill that hole for good, and I knew it wouldn’t be easy, or quick.

[mo0nfairy]

Omg thoughts (in my brain) what if the reader just tweaked out and attacked them. I feel like ada would be the first to react in the sense of shes not surprised you fought back and it would take her about maybe a minute to have reader out cold (it took her so long bcs she just went into a light neck hold so reader passes out) I think Jill would recover from shock quickly but wouldn’t wanna actively “stop” the reader (violently at lest), I mean cmon we all saw the rail gun that was like 3 times her hight that she was using in re3, she KNOWS she’s strong (and that the reader isn’t) so she would just try and lightly restrain the reader. LEON AND CARLOS ON THE OTHER HAND?! Spend the whole time confused,why are you throwing a knife at them? And crying cmon, your favourite show is about to start? Stoppp? And they would just let the reader tire themselves out, they just block any and all attacks, not wanting to hurt you and knowing you’ll get tired soon only to pull reader into a suffocating hug and cooing at the reader saying they forgive them (did this make sense?)

based on the shit they have to endure, idk how reader hasn't lost their minds and thrown hands yet.

ada would find it hilarious and adorable. ofc, she will easily defend herself. but, she has to restrain from cooing over how cute the pathetic attempt was. like a child, you'll be put into 'time-out' to think about your actions. after some time (literally like 5 minutes at most), ada will return and forgive you . most likely, you will never do it again, as you have learned there is no chance at overpowering her.

leon would assume you were play-fighting and join you in the effort, returning your attempted punches and stabs with kisses. easily, you'd be overpowered and then forced to endure the weight of his embrace. any physical touch from you, no matter the intent, is seen as an ask for cuddles, of which leon will happily oblige.

jill, unsurprisingly, would make it sexual. i actually intended to write her smut scene in chapter four as reader attempting to escape and jill punishing them for such, but i ended up scraping it (i liked the motorcycle headcanon too much). so, if you were to tackle her in some feeble attempt at violence, she would easily defend herself and fuck out all that energy from your body.

and carlos? poor carlos would just sob the whole time. he would not defend himself, terrified of the prospect of hurting you. so, you can beat and strike him all you want, all while he cries and pleads for you to stop and to just love him again. in the end, you'll feel guilty for ever trying to hurt someone so weak. you should pick on someone you're own size, as they say.

[twig-tea]

Trauma Patterns in LFTCOT ep3&4

Still thinking about Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo episodes 3 and 4, and how abuse and trauma results in behaviour that goes counter to our own desires and best interests.

Dohoe is so afraid of the potential for violence in himself that he refuses to allow himself to ever be violent, and so instead he cuts contact whenever there is any risk that he will want to be. He cuts contact with Hyeonho (and tries to avoid his bullies as much as possible), he cuts contact with his father, and he cuts contact with Juyeong. He understands Juyeong because it's when others are threatened that he is driven to fight back too.

It was only when Dohoe's father announced his intention to go beat Dohoe that Juyeong fought back. He knew Dohoe would hate him using violence to protect him from his father, and after explaining that he'd first been expelled for hitting a teacher while protecting someone else he promised not to do it again, but he did it anyway, because he was triggered in that moment (we saw the flashback to him in high school reacting the same way).

Juyeong's been taking care of Dohoe's father (and with the hope of seeing Dohoe again) for years, and has been teaching Taekwondo with a gentler and patient approach (and teaching the other instructors to do the same) in some kind of penance. Meanwhile Dohoe is the one who thinks he needs to stay away (but he can't so he buys the building a block over).

I'm also thinking about Dohoe's father and whether his decision to drink and call to wake his son the night before his university-qualifying exams to buy cigarettes and beat him for being ungrateful and disrespectful was conscious or subconscious. It doesn't really matter--we know from his friends that Dohoe being stuck at home is what allows his father to live as he has been, and Dohoe has made no effort to hide that it's his goal to get the hell out. I'm sure he'd never call it this but Dohoe's father clearly lashes out from his own trauma. I wonder how much he hates the fact that Dohoe's life will be better once he leaves, like Dohoe's mother's apparently was. I wonder how much his own fear at his wife leaving and subsequent lashing out is what drove her away in the first place. Sabotage of his son's future is such an ugly thing and is similarly counter to his own interests long-term, even if he thinks Dohoe leaving will make his life harder in the short term (which of course he does anyway).

The thing about trauma-triggered behaviour is that it is not a conscious decision, and not something the person can stop doing at will. That is not an excuse and does not mean they're not still responsible for their actions; But they need to have worked through whatever was underlying the trigger and unlearn the behaviour in order to be able to act differently in the same circumstance.

[shirefantasies]

Hello again! I have another request that came to me as I was submitting a different one. How do you think Thorin's or the LOTR companies would react to reader having a buzzcut. Especially for dwarves who pride themselves in long intricately done hair and braids. Would they think something bad must've happened to the reader for them to have short hair. Cue misunderstandings and fluff, with maybe hair petting(buzzcuts are super soft!) Hope this sounds interesting enough to do, have a good day again! :)

(I literally lied on my last post THIS is my last pre-op post by the 45 minutes left before my operation appointment)

Heck yeah friend I love this! I don’t quite have a buzzcut but my hair’s far shorter than the average lady’s & definitely so for a dwarf, so I wonder about this too 😁 hope you enjoy 🥰 Warnings: a little violence in one reaction, injury mention in another

Thorin’s Company When You Have a Buzzcut

Balin

“You’re causing quite a stir with everyone, you know that?” Giving a chuckle at Balin’s cheeky look, you lean forward with your chin upon your hand. “And why is that?” “At risk of offense,” the older dwarf answered, “they all want to know what happened to your hair.” “Yourself included,” you shot back with a grin, “or else you’d not be asking.” Taken aback, Balin stutters a bit. “Ah, well, I confess I am a bit curious, after all. Reminds me of when my brother first took all his off. What a stir over something so silly. Do what you like, I was just wondering if Dwalin was trying to get you all painted up too.” “Not yet,” your smile softens and you give him a wink, “but if he does you’ll be the first to know. Ahead of all the sensation.”

Dwalin

You start the conversation on this one, seeing that Dwalin is the other company member with little to no hair upon his head and considering it a bonding opportunity. “Well, I’ve got a reason,” he shoots back to your comment of similarity, arms crossed but expression teasing, “what’s yours? You need some tattoos up there at least.” “No thank you,” you tell him, “if I’m adding any tattoos it won’t be on top of my head! Feel how soft it is up here.” Dwalin looks at you, prompting you to take his hand and put it on top of your head, his eyebrows raising at the sensation. And perhaps because touching one’s hair is a much closer and more intimate thing for him than perhaps you realize. You are quite forward, aren’t you?

Thorin

Pays little mind to how you wear your hair…or lack thereof. In fact, by your appearance he gauges you to be a warrior of some kind, thus taking command of your actions in a fight and seeking proof of your prowess. Before your first encounter with a threat the king’s questions are more along the lines of “What is your weapon of choice?” and “From where in these lands do you hail?” The day the company fights a pack of orcs, you manage to take down more than Thorin expected and at one point, you even jump in front of Dori to parry before a potentially deadly strike takes him off guard. Rising from the struggle of battle, black blood splattered across your layers and even your shaven head, you feel a hand upon your shoulder. Thorin. "It can be hard for us to look beyond our own kin," he tells you, "but you have well proven yourself today. We may not always understand each other, but there is a beauty in that, too, I see."

Oin

Wincing despite your gratitude, you shifted in your seated position while Oin packed the poultice into the wound your side had suffered. "Don't worry, you'll go numb in a bit. If it stings, that is quite alright, that simply means you are getting clean again." Thanking him through heavy breaths, you watched as the dwarf reached a hand up toward your head, running a hand over the soft, shorn little bit of cover it had. "And this one's healing quite nicely, quite nicely indeed. Why, I cannot even see the scar!" The sting in your bloody side faded down a bit as you tilted your head to fix Oin right in the eyes. "What scar?" "Did they not have to sew up your head at some point? Figured that's why they shaved you down," he answered, finally removing his hand from your head. You giggled at that, regretted stretching yourself at a new, though much smaller, arc of pain. "No, my dear Oin, I am afraid the only thing my head has suffered is my typical madness," you teased, waving your hands mystically and grinning at the way the healer laughed.

Gloin

"Pardon me, my dear," your name rolled smoothly off Gloin's tongue as he shuffled forth, hands folded in front of him in the picture of innocence. Oh, this was going to be good. "Yes?" You indulged him, swiveling to give your full attention. The auburn-haired dwarf pointed to his head, his own flowing locks. "What happened t'yer hair?" Perhaps sheepishly, his voice suddenly quickened. Feeling your eyebrows involuntarily raise, you tilted your head- this was not exactly what you’d expected, after all. “I cut it,” you shrugged, “got tired of how it was before. Simply wanted a new beginning, you could say.” Gloin’s eyes never left yours. “So no accident?” “No.” “Ha!” The dwarf bellowed, waggling a hand at his brother and a small scattering of company members a ways back. “I was right! By choice! Now pay up and remember I told ya it was worth the risk!” Shaking your head, you playfully smack him on the shoulder. “I’d better get a cut from this, you ol’ scallywag!”

Bifur

Catching Bifur signing, you turn his way, seeing the motions he performs by his head. “Did you cut your hair yourself?” You realize he is asking. “No,” you sign back, “another did it for me.” “You must trust them a great deal.” Simple enough words signed and yet there is something in the way his eyes shine, the fond inquisition in his smile, that brings a little shock of joy to you. Barring royal dressings, it was far more common for one to do their own hair or entrust it to a loved one, and you could see intimacy in the act. It almost brought a pang of regret that it was just some small-town hairdresser that sheared it at your asking and payment. Your hands freeze for a moment as your eyes search Bifur before you finally sign a response. “I suppose. Perhaps if you ever want to do something different with your hair, I could help you, too.”

Bofur

A mix between caring and teasing, he offers you cover! “Your head looks cold. Need to borrow my hat?” Thinks he’s so funny he laughs at his own joke whether you roll your eyes or joke back. “But really, any particular reason you took it all off?” "It was uncomfortable having it long," you admit, "I was tired of it all being in my face." The way everyone spoke of dwarven culture, you half expect disapproval, but this is Bofur you speak of. Instead he nods acceptingly, smiling in that way that always has you feeling seen and reassured. "I understand that." "You do?" "Sure I do! Why do you think I keep mine braided out to the sides like this?" At that, you smile back. "Besides," he continues, "helps me see all the best sights. The trees, the flowers, that smile of yours..."

Bombur

“Singe all your hair off?” Bombur nods sagely despite the fact that he couldn’t be more wrong. “I’ve been there. Burned my beard leaning too far over the stove.” You can’t even correct him right away because you’re too busy laughing. Finally, though, you explain to him that your hair was simply so unhealthy it needed to start over. “Ah, I see, I see! Trying to take better care of it, then?” At that, you nod. He looks at you with new interest, eyes shining eagerly. “So what would you like to do with it next? I’ve got some things you might like to put in it, and I think it would look mighty nice if you wanted to try…”

Dori

"Sometimes I wish I could do that, too," Dori remarks one day, rolling blue eyes illuminated beneath the sun that peeked between the branches. Shifting carefully so as to not disturb your pony, you turned back to face him. "Do what?" "Cut all my hair off just to save some time in the morning!" He replied with a wave of a hand in your general direction. Chuckling, you gave a conceding nod. "I suppose you would gain back an hour, wouldn't you?" At that, it was Dori's turn to laugh. "But then again," you continued, "then you couldn't wear as many of those nice clips and cases. That is one thing I miss about having it all." Puffing up like a proud little bird, Dori smiled. "They are quite nice, aren't they? You know, if you ever get so bored you're tempted to let it all come back, I could make you some of your own."

Nori

Abrasive as it was, Nori's question found you in a way that raised such amusement you forgot to be upset with him entirely, instead simply falling back with a bark of laughter before you answered. "Looks like you're tryin' to hide your identity. You on the run from someone?" He continued musing, in fact, as you laughed. "Law somewhere? A scorned lover? Simply run off with something too valuable not to do that?" Finally, your voice returned. "All this because I've sheared my head down?" You burst out incredulously. "Ever consider," you gasped in mock-scandal, "I like it like this?" "Sure, but that's not exciting," Nori shot back with a smirk, "I like a good story." "Well," you crossed your arms, "perhaps I still have some of those, too."

Ori

Shuffling up to you was the youngest dwarf in the company, sweet Ori; Ori was one of the dwarves who accepted outsiders most readily, and you spent plenty of time at his side watching his drawings and records come to life. That day, though, what was in his hand was not his book, rather a bundle of fabric. "I made this for you." Eyes widening, you extend your hands to accept the soft knitting, peering back at Ori. "I thought your head must get cold," he explained his craft as you unfolded it, revealing a thick, sturdy cap you immediately began pulling onto your head, "does it fit?" Yarn hugging your head perfectly, you nodded. "It's just my size. Thank you." Before he could speak again, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. "This is the kindest thing anyone has done for me in some time. Thank you."

Fili

“One of my braids came undone. Kili?” The younger Durin prince seemingly did not hear the request for his presence, so you stepped forward. “I can help.” Goggling at you, Fili posed a question. “Do you even know how?” Hand falling to your hip, you shot him a look. “Though I may not possess them myself, I am quite capable of doing them up.” The golden-haired dwarf looked sheepish, a bit of the mischief fading from his blue eyes. “Suppose I assumed you didn’t much enjoy doing them either,” he told you with a nod toward your head. “Well,” a teasing smile drifted across your face, “I certainly would…unless you are scared.” You were no fool. You knew how the Durins were with challenges. And if you remembered correctly, you knew how dwarves were with braids…

Kili

He cares some of the least out of the dwarves being the least traditionally presenting himself. He’s sort of the type to be a little attracted to everyone, enjoying the unique traits of all types of people. You still cannot help being a bit surprised when he flirts with you, though, not expecting someone with a cut like yours to catch his eye or draw his teasing. “Not one for a courting braid, I see? No one worthy of putting one on you, no doubt.” For all his jesting questions, he never actually demands an answer, though. Instead he simply launches into a story about a haircut prank he pulled with his older brother once to keep light conversation flowing. “Well, by the end of it our uncle looked quite like you! Except he didn’t pull it off half as well.”

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins | Let me know if you'd like to join!

[goldenhourwriter]

˜”*°•𝔦 𝔠𝔞𝔫’𝔱 𝔴𝔬𝔫’𝔱 𝔣𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲•°*”˜

°pairing: miguel o'hara x wife!reader

°summary: your husband is against miles. you're for him. but, you two are still married, no matter what

°warning(s): couples fighting, angst, talks of violence and fighting, kissing, a tiny bit of fluff, and I only know like a chunk of Spanish. It was all checked through spanish dictionary, please correct me if I’m wrong

I swing into my room. Well, the room I have to share with my husband. I land silently, a quiet ‘thwip’ following my actions of flying through the air. I take a moment and look around, my heart thumping loudly.

I sigh, getting up and mumbling under my breath about hating this day. This whole week. Today was starting off rather well, but of course, being a Spider-Person in a while league of Spider-People, a disaster is always lurking.

“Miguel, back off,” I warn. He spares me a glance. “Mi princessa,” he begins, his tone signaling he’s done with the conversation. “¿En serio no está considerando todo lo que está en juego aquí? All the lives that we can actually lose?”

I bite my lip, and the entire Spider Society is staring at us. Hobie’s eyes, for once, hold shock. It’s so quiet you can hear a pin drop. Gwen doesn’t know how to react, Peter is standing there while Mayday coos and climbs over his head, letting out soft giggles. Miles doesn’t know what to do, how to stand, to even breathe or not. Everyone watches as we hold each other’s gaze, defensive.

Now, Miguel isn’t stupid. He knows exactly how this may end, but he can at least try to keep his wife from fighting against him.

“Y/N, listen-“ “No, Miguel, you’re not listening.” I shoot back. His gaze darkens as I cut him off. Frankly, I’m the only one who has the guts to, and the only one he at least tolerates here.

“This kid’s dad is in danger. You can at leatest relate to not wanting lose a loved one, imagine if it was me!”

“Y/N,” his tone is much darker now. “Don’t you dare go there.”

“Exactly, Miguel. You wouldn’t be able to stand it. Just try to put yourself in the kid’s shoes!” I raise my voice as he walks past me, his eyes now on Miles. “Miguel,” I call at him.

“I’m sorry, kid,” he says, taking out a device.

“Miguel, no!” I shout louder, my feet taking me at a sprint to get to him. Miles’s eyes widen in fear as Miguel hurls the device at him, a bubble then forming around him. People start to try to console a distressed Miles. Miguel holds me back from him, his one arm being strong enough to keep me in place.

“Miguel, you can’t, he will find a way out.”

He just keeps staring forward. My heart cracks as I look up at my husband.

Then, Miles makes the shield dissolve. I curse under my breath. He laughs nervously.

Then, he takes off running.

I shoot a web to the ceiling, flying up before Miguel could stop me. He tries to reach up for me, but I’m too fast. I swing after Miles, and he somersaults to try and get father from me.

“No, kid! I’m on your side!” I shout at him. He gives me a small smile.

Of course, in my adrenaline-run haze, I completely forgot I didn’t have my suit. Any of my good weapons. So, I had to swing back to my home. Only for the suit. That’s all.

That’s the only reason.

At least, that’s what I’ve been trying to convince myself. I breathe heavily as my nerves grow. I cross to my drawers, pulling open the top drawer. My mind races as I ruffle through it, finishing my suit.

“Come on, come on, come on,” I repeat under my breath. I grunt in displeasure as I find it’s tangled with some other clothes. I’m not really needed on missions, I’m more of the desk woman, so I don’t wear my suit that much. So, of course, it gets buried under all my other clothes.

Truly, I didn’t want to go against my husband. Of all people, but my beliefs don’t have to be his. And vice versa. He’s being crazy. He had no right to tell a kid that he was a disappointment, a mistake. I watched with anger on the train, and honesty, I know he’s the happiest with me right now. We’re both too stubborn to see each other’s side, much less give in and switch sides. Plus, I made Miles a promise.

I finally get it untangled, and I let out a small voice of victory, a smile growing on my face. I crouch down onto the floor to reach the bottom drawer, opening it. Before I can even remember what I’m looking for, a deep, rumbling voice calls out to me.

“Y/N.”

I freeze and suck in a breath, my head looking up, each one of my hairs standing up on my neck.

Oh, shit.

I heave out a sigh.

I grab my good webshooters quickly and stand up, walking right past him and to the window. I try to walk fast, wordlessly, but his red, laser-like web shoots out and grabs my arm. I look down at it, and then I look at him.

“What?” I ask shortly. His eyes hold some sadness at this, but his face remains stern.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” he questions, taking a step towards me. I don’t move towards him. I stay quiet. So, he softens his voice, he lets down the scary, mad, and broken persona for just a moment. “You have a duty, a responsibility that you promised to everyone-“

“No, no, Miguel! No!” I interject. I shake my head, grabbing the web and throwing it down, spinning around to look at him fully.

“I promised my own father to protect him. Then he was made fucking captain, he was given that dammed position, and he died! I promised him, and I promised Miles. I need to do this, you can’t stop me.” I turn around again, but his web grabs my back, and he pulls me back. I help as he spins me into him, and I collide with his rock-hard chest. He towers over me, and as he looks down, he’s almost begging me.

“Mi vida,” he whispers. My eyes search his, alternating between his left and right eye. “Don’t make me do this.”

His arm raises with the same device that he used on Miles, and I try to tug away. I grab his arm, pausing his movements. He and I both know he can easily overpower me any day, but he doesn’t. No, he won’t.

“Then don’t,” I respond simply.

He shakes his head. My spider-sense go off the hook, and I hop onto the ceiling, sticking to it. I look down at him, and in his other hand, he’s holding a stun gun. “Really, Miguel? You’re going to be that cliche?” I ask, crawling away from him.

“Dammit, Y/N! Just come here!” He shouts at me. He hops into the ceiling as well, his claws digging into the plaster. I gasp, and I use a web to sling over to the window, but he webs it shut before I can fly out. I fly into the now-closed window. I groan as I clutch my head, a small bump forming. I turn and Miguel is walking right up to me, and he pins me to the wall.

A moment of silence passes between us.

“Why?” I whisper.

He shakes his head, gritting his teeth, his fangs visible. We won’t get physical. We both know this. We can’t hurt each other even to save our own souls, it’s against our nature, against every instinct. Then, all the emotions of today come flooding to my heart. It hits me.

We’re at war.

My eyes flood with think, hot tears. I bring a shaky hand up to his cheek, and I gently cup it, my thumb coming to stroke his cheekbone. He shuts his eyes, and he leans ever so slightly into my touch. The weapons he has drops at his side, and he leans down to bury his head in my shoulder.

“I can’t let you oppose me,” he whispers to me, his hands coming to circle around my waist. “I-I can’t fight you. No, I won’t fight you.”

I nod, and I let my arms come around his neck, and I breathe him in, my eyes fluttering shut.

“I don’t want to, Miguel. I don’t. But I need to. I need to help Miles, because he needs his Dad. Wouldn’t you try anything to save someone you love?”

“I did,” he mumbles. And my heart sinks. His daughter. He doesn’t want another disaster like that, he doesn’t want other fathers to lose their daughters. I stay quiet, not wanting to disturb this moment of peace we have. Possibly the last moment of peace we’ll have in a good long while. He eventually pulls away, his eyes red. He grabs my left hand, and he looks down at my wedding ring. A simple diamond with a silver band. He traces over it with his thumb, and he leans down and kisses it. He leans down and presses his forehead against mine.

“Prométeme que te mantendrás segura, mi ángel.” He mumbles. I scrunch my eyebrows together in confusion, but before I can ask, he pulls the window open, a breeze coming in. I stare at him, and I give him a small nod.

Then, I reach my arm out behind me, but before I shoot out a web, I whisper out.

“I still love you.”

He smiles.

“And I love you.”

Then, I fly out the window.

[shall-we-die]

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{Fight}

How would they feel if their darling fought back?

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↬[Fandom]•⊰ {Obey me!}࿐

↬[Warnings]•⊰ {Yandere behaviors}࿐

☰[Main list]•⊰ ────┈┈{0081}┈─╮

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╰┈➤Likes/Reblogs are appreciated࿐

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↬|Lucifer|

Lucifer would be both extremely annoyed and frustrated with you. Furious that you’d dare to defy him- his little human. But he’d also find it so entertaining and exciting to see you get all worked up like this. It would only make him want to push your buttons more- just to see you get annoyed and angry at him. He could hardly wait to snap and bring you back under his control once again. Lucifer finds this little rebellion of yours kind of adorable. You’re so small and fragile- there’s no way you could ever over power him. He’d find it so cute, he’d probably be tempted to tease you and get you even more angry. But he’d also be getting impatient. His little human was supposed to be docile and willing- not fighting him and acting out. He’d be tempted to use his power and force you back into submission.

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↬|Mammon|

Mammon would be absolutely furious if MC fought back. He would see it as a direct challenge to his control, and his ego couldn’t handle that. He would get incredibly angry, and likely lash out in some way, whether it be verbally or physically. Mammon would see any form of resistance as disobedient and rebellious, and he would not stand for it. He would use all his power and influence to make sure MC stays in line, and would make it clear that he is the one with the power in the relationship.

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↬|Leviathan|

Levi would feel possessive and obsessed with MC even if they fought back. he would likely see their struggle as a test of their love, a display of their passion for each other. he might even find it "cute" if they tried to resist, viewing it as a challenge to win them over completely. his yandere tendencies would drive him to want to control and possess MC even more fiercely.

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↬|Satan|

Satan would likely react strongly and negatively if MC tried to fight back. He's not used to being challenged or defied by anyone, especially not MC. He might feel a mix of anger, frustration, and even a sense of betrayal. He may try to exert his dominance and control in the situation, using intimidation or force to make MC obey. He will likely see this as an attack on his authority and will go to great lengths to reassert his control over MC, making sure they never defy him again. When MC fights back against Satan's attempts to control them, it triggers his possessive side even more. He believes he has the right to have MC all to himself and can't stand the idea of them challenging him or resisting his authority. He might use manipulation and emotional blackmail to try to make MC feel guilty for fighting back. He may also resort to harsher measures like stalking, threats, or even physical violence to ensure MC stays under his control. Overall, he sees any form of resistance from MC as a personal affront and will do whatever it takes to reassert his control over.

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↬|Asmondeus|

If MC fought back and showed defiance against him, Asmodeus would feel a mixture of anger and excitement. He wouldn’t like the fact that his love tried to resist him, but he would also find it thrilling, as it would excite his possessive and obsessive side, making him want MC even more. He would become even more determined to keep them, even by force. He would probably see it as a challenge to break their spirit and make them completely submissive to him. He might use various tactics to manipulate and make MC submit to him - emotional blackmail, mind games, gaslighting, or even physical force. He would try to make them feel guilty and responsible for his actions, telling them that they're the cause of his behavior and that it is their fault that he has to be like this. He would also keep reminding them how much he loves them and how he is doing all this for their own good, trying to convince them that his possessive behavior is actually a sign of his deep love for them.

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↬|Beelzebub|

If MC fought back against Beelzebub, he would likely feel angry, frustrated, and maybe even betrayed. His feelings of possessiveness and control would be challenged, and he may react in extreme ways to reassert his dominance. This could include outbursts of anger, threats, physical force, or even manipulation and gaslighting to make MC feel guilty or doubt their own actions. Beelzebub would not take well to any resistance from MC, as he wants them to be completely dependent and submissive to him.

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↬|Belphegor|

You want him to kill you, again? He'd like a challenge. You're feisty aren't you? If you'd be strong, like maybe know how to defend yourself he'd be even more interested in you. In his eyes, you'd be rare jewel and the ultimate prize.

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↬|Diavolo|

Diavolo would probably see it as a challenge and try even harder to assert his dominance over them, and would be both annoyed and aroused by their resistant behavior. Despite his initial frustrations, Diavolo would ultimately find MC's resistance endearing and admirable. He would want them to be his even more, and would try harder than ever to prove that he was the only one for them. He might even get a sense of satisfaction from breaking down their defenses and making them submit to him. Remember, he also has a talent butler...

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↬|Barbatos|

Barbatos would feel annoyed and frustrated if mc fights back. He has a need to be in control and have power over you, so your resistance to his control would drive him mad. He would likely increase his possessive, controlling, and manipulative behavior to try to get you back under his control. He would likely use intimidation and threats to try to subdue you. He may also use physical force to restrain you if necessary. He sees you as his property and would not tolerate any resistance or disobedience.

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↬|Simeon|

He would view it as a challenge and become even more determined to assert his dominance and make them submit to him. At the same time, he would be intrigued by them resistance and might even find it attractive. He would try to find ways to break down their defenses and make them surrender completely.

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↬|Solomon|

Solomon would view this as a challenge to his authority and ownership over them. He may become even more determined to keep mc under his control and would likely become more aggressive in his attempts to do so. He may try to isolate them from others, use manipulation or mind games, or even resort to violence if necessary to regain control and ensure that mc is his and his alone.

||[🄵ight]||

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