#outside the dream syndicate

[reckonslepoisson]

Faust (1971), So Far (1972), Outside the Dream Syndicate (1973), The Faust Tapes (1973), Faust IV (1973), Faust

Even now, clearly the dawn of something entirely new; how terrifying, how exhilarating; rural weirdos tricked their way into far too much money, fooled the execs though to the rest of the planet those stupid execs are worth some thanks; not music to overthink, to do Faust right is to submit to it – with the help of certain substances or not – to indulge as they indulged and embrace an undefined, imaginative world.

Faust, the debut, strange, engrossing, perhaps not actually enjoyable. Sinister and playful, exceptionally loose in conventional structure (lacking the anchoring percussion of other krautrock instigators). The real genius, so I’ve heard, lies in the guys who actually managed to record it. Producer Uwe Nettelbeck for putting it together and Kurt Graupner, with his magical black boxes, for getting it onto record. Praise be to those little black boxes.

Second So Far is much more conventional, though that’s all relative, on a scale, a spectrum. Here are some conventional songs – or some tunes, at least, within tracks – switching between the folky and funky and faint and weird, with, of course, a fair measure of totally oblique things. Comes together much better than I.

And then a big year, 1973, three releases, all of which prised Faustworld even further open. With Tony Conrad on Outside the Dream Syndicate, the troupe started to resemble a kraut I know and love, yet were also so far from that, the metronome not tight apache but ritualistic march. Suits a narrative, too, the band emerging from its mad, fun cave with a stern, cold desire to dictate.

The Tapes were both a marketing gimmick and an archive in real time, peeling back the mysteries of Faust’s bafflingly obtuse musical fruit with liminal spectres of rock, folk, pop, jazz and orchestral music and high theory. Winking and nudging and epic, the Tapes showed theory and praxis though never – not really – demystified. Faust’s fruit is one of many skins, and those skins are so enticing to journey through that the juicy centre seems wholly unimportant. 

IV listens as most academic, the Faust record refined and pored over by the gruppe and feasibly built as if to be studied – in process, making one second-guess the urge not to examine the band’s earlier pieces. But is that studying also a mistake? Such is the dialectical genius of Faust, to and fro, one thing and another, the unsurety of meanings or intentions – but the total sureness of one crucial thing: brilliance. 

I can’t and won’t try to sum it all up, my brain is far too small – as are all brains, for that matter. The Faust phenomenon (or the era of the project most care about) happened in just a couple of years, yet entirely transformed music forever. Half a century later, the Faust story continues to carry further promise: that maybe someday someone else will do something so revolutionary, too.

Pick(s): ‘Meadow Meal’, ‘It’s a Rainy Day Sunshine Girl’, ‘The Side of Man and Womankind’, ‘Flashback Caruso’, ‘Krautrock’ 

[dailyalbumrecs]

Outside The Dream Syndicate - Tony Conrad & Faust

Tony Conrad was a member of the drone group named the Dream Syndicate(also called the Theatre of Eternal Music) of which there is only one officially released track from the era when Tony Conrad was in, 17 XII 63 NYC The Fire Is A Mirror (Excerpt) from the Todd Haynes Velvet Underground documentary soundtrack. This album is a collaborative drone album between Faust and Tony Conrad with two tracks. This is definitely something I would recommend for those interested in drone music, people who like the Velvet Underground song Venus in Furs, and those that enjoy krautrock. My favorite song is The Side of Man and Womankind.

Apple Music:

Spotify:

For those curious about why only one track of early Dream Syndicate music is released, there are authorship credit disputes about the compositions and this is an interesting link about it. Also, imo, La Monte Young can pound sand for his behavior.

[videostak]

terry riley in c and faust/tony conrad outside the dream syndicate are both great albums for sure but its also funny cause like a lot of the reason they get talked abt or treated as v important documents is that theyre kinda the only officially released la monte young type drone music records since la monte young never released any of his stuff in his heyday so like i think ppl also just like them more cause of it being the closest theyll hear to la monte youngs early stuff lol.

[appleflavoredkitkats]

fuck it. ultimate dsmp quiz because i want to hear people deliberate about it again. answer some (or all) of the questions in the tags/reblogs, but do not start fights!

what did l'manberg ultimately mean to each of its members, and why did wilbur blow it up on november 16th?

why did dream pursue the path of villainy?

what was quackity's justification for the creation of las nevadas, and where did those principles originate?

explain how techno views allyship, from his more secure allies in the syndicate, to shorter-lived allies like with dream and tommy

how did sam justify why leaving tommy in the prison was a safer option, even if it meant risking his death?

why did schlatt die, and what did his short-lived arc in manberg represent?

what was wilbur truly aiming for when asking different members of the smp for forgiveness?

what did ranboo mean by his preference of being truly factionless?

define wilbur and fundy's father-son relationship (bonus if you can extend it to phil)

what did eret's betrayal signify for the dream smp's overall theme?

what did the inbetween and the other side really mean?

describe the egg, its powers and its weaknesses

what did tommy's discs signify?

why was memory such a prevalent issue in the dsmp?

what is enderwalking?

how did the community house explode?

how do you revive someone via the revival book?

what is limbo and what were the different states of limbo each dead person experienced?

why did phil kill wilbur?

how did sam have multiple bodies/personas?

what was the importance of outsider perspective, both found in phil and michael mcchill's respective lore?

who was pandora's vault built for?

who is dreamxd?

what is the overall attempted general theme of the dream smp?

how would you have changed the dsmp?

[peachsukii]

Hollow Heart { chapter 1 - hurricane }

『♡』 pro-hero fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ pro-heroes au | friends to lovers ꒱ ♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist ♡

summary: The dynamic duo of Dynamight and Deku are unstoppable, climbing the hero charts like they always dreamed of as kids. Their journeys were tough, but offered them the world - fame, fortune, protection of their family and friends, a comfortable hero life. The recent increase in crime around Tokyo kept their entire sector busy, sending heroes out non-stop, desperate to keep the statistics as low as possible to maintain a clean reputation. When a nearby sector is requesting assistance, the boys are tasked with a mission to inspect a villain’s lair in a deserted area outside of the city. Reports have noted people going missing, specifically with rare quirks. With plenty of other heroes being unavailable, you’re chosen to tag along with the duo for the night operation. Everything is going according to plan until the villain lands a surprise attack, resulting in the your kidnapping and whisking you away through a mysterious portal. It’s been a month since your disappearance with no help of the hero agency. Bakugo and Midoriya take it into their own hands and are determined to get you back - no matter how long or what it takes. tags & warnings: mentions of blood/violence, eventual & mild smut, kidnapping/abduction, experimentation, physical & psychological torture, PTSD, implied/referenced self harm, cursing, talks of trauma | angst with happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, regret, mutual pining, friends to lovers, insomnia, eventual romance a/n: Prepare for the heartbreaking journey of Bakugo battling with his feelings when it’s too late…or is it? :) ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; ~20.6k as of ch.4 ꒱ Chapter 1 | Hurricane [5k] Chapter 2 | The Ghost of You [4.7k] Chapter 3 | Choke [3.9k] Chapter 4 | The Grey [6.7k] Chapter 5 | The Good Left Undone [4.7k] Chapter 6 | Tourniquet Chapter 7 | There is Fear in Letting Go 『♡』 this fic has a playlist! ✩

CHAPTER ONE: HURRICANE

A beautiful summer morning, rays of tangerine light poured into the living room of your apartment as you sleepily make your way to the kitchen, desperate for that first cup of coffee. The clock on the stove read 8:35AM - the latest you’ve overslept in the last month. It was another long night in the office, writing reports for your previous week’s hero patrols that you’d put off for far too long. You'd think someone else would be responsible for inputting notes into the agency's system, but no - anyone below rank 10 was tasked with entering in their own data. 

Criminal activity in the area had increased significantly within the last 3 months, calling heroes of all ranks out nonstop, especially lower ranked heroes. Was it annoying? Sure, being awoken in the middle of the night out of a dead sleep to go stop a small robbery at the local late-night supermarket wasn't ideal. Especially when you dreamed of dealing with bigger threats, akin to crime syndicates and large scale villain organizations. As a hero, you’re taught to tune out the small details and focus on what’s in front of you - keeping the citizens of your ward safe and sound, even if it's helping a granny cross the street in the middle of the afternoon.

The agency accepted you with open arms right out of UA High, over the moon to have a hero with a quirk like yours in their roster. Psionic energy manipulation was shockingly uncommon amongst the 80% of the population of quirk users. The kinetic hero, Y/H/N, ranked number 37 - high enough to earn respect from your peers and low enough to not have to worry about being followed by paparazzi and negotiating brand deals. Cities were full of billboards with ads sponsored by heroes, heavily focused on those in the top 10 for allure to their product. Deku and Dynamight’s athletic wear collaboration, Uravity’s mochi bites, Shouto’s fire and ice energy drinks - it was impossible to avoid. Did you wish you had the smallest bit of spotlight? Sometimes, but being able to walk the streets off-duty and not be bothered was a luxury you'd like to keep. On the counter, your phone buzzed and flashed awake, shaking you out of the sleepy stupor.

Incoming Call: Katsuki Bakugo 

A picture of you and Bakugo appeared on to the caller ID screen - one of your favorite pictures with him. It was from a concert in Shibuya you'd attended a few months back. His arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as he flipped off the camera, wearing his infamous toothy smirk as you leaned against him with a small peace sign and a warm smile. 

It's unfair how effortlessly attractive he was. Admittedly, you'd had a crush on him since high school and drank up every ounce of affection he threw your way over the years. Even though you've known him and Midoriya since childhood, your friendship didn't truly blossom until your first year in UA. Thanks to your tenacity and fighting spirit, he respected you after a long six months. That broke down his walls just enough to tolerate you and continue to be friends ever since. 

You, Midoriya, and Bakugo became three peas in pod, a strong bond established to last a lifetime. Post-UA life wasn’t as easy to see each other, but you made it work - trainings, missions, conflicting work schedules, and general life couldn’t get in between the three of you, even if it was just over texts, phone calls and late-night movie marathons. It helped that you all lived in Tokyo, at least. Midoriya, of course, was extremely special and essential to your life. He’s like the little brother you always wanted and a constant ray of sunshine, always there for whatever you need. There was just something different and special about your bond with Bakugo - a spark, without sounding cliche. And after all these years later, he's still your favorite person and one of your best friends. 

You wouldn't trade it for the world. Oh shit, I forgot we planned to go for a run this morning. You answer hesitantly, knowing full well you’re about to get an earful about being late. 

“Yo, Y/N, you plan on showin' up anytime soon?” There was shockingly no annoyance in his tone. “It’s almost 9.”

“Sorry Kat! I overslept. Had a long night writing reports in the office. I’ll be there in 10,” you say, not making any excuses. You hear a loud tch in response - ah, there’s the annoyance.

“I was about to bust down your door and give you a personal wake up call,” he teases, laughing to himself. “Get your ass to the park. See ya, lite-brite.” The line ended with a click. 

He'd never let that nickname go, one that followed you all the way back from high school. You'd grown used to it as he typically reserved it to get under your skin or light a fire under your ass. Most of the time? It worked - and you liked it.

Setting the coffee cup in the sink, you jog back into your room down the hallway and change into a clean set of workout clothes. You'd just gotten the PR package from Midoriya last week with his new sports wear collaboration with Bakugo, saving you time by not having to dig through your laundry pile. He would have scolded you for slacking on chores if he were to have woken you up in person, and then folded it himself to prove a point. He’d often harp on you for not keeping up with basic shit around your place, but in the same breath, start cleaning up for you - it was one of his love languages. 

The company they collaborated with nailed the designs perfectly. It was minimalistic, but still paid homage to their hero costumes. You grab Bakugo's set - a cropped black sleeveless hoodie with an orange 'X' across the front, a forest green band with a drawstring around the midsection, and an orange hood. The matching shorts were all black with a simple orange stripe down the sides. The neoprene material allowed for the set to breathe in any weather condition.

Thankfully, the park you were meeting him at was only a couple minute walk from your apartment building. Not long after pulling your hair into a ponytail, splashing your face with water and brushing your teeth, you're kicking on your sneakers by the door and shuffling out of the apartment. A few minutes to spare, you duck into the convenience store along the way, grabbing two sports drinks and a bag of his favorite spicy-flavored chips. God, you hated the taste of them and never understood why he liked them so much. Some part of you jokingly thought it fueled his already explosive personality, literally heating him up from the inside.

───

"You wear that on purpose?" Bakugo snickers over his phone as you skip toward him, pointing to your workout gear. 

"What can I say? It's comfortable. Happy to be a walking ad for the number four hero," you say, elbowing him in the arm. He rolls his eyes, snatching the sports drink you've outstretched to him and mutters a thanks. 

"You should model our next set," he pats you on the back. "You're the perfect fit." 

You scoff, waving a hand at him. "Yeah, like I'm model material."

"I literally just said you were, dumbass. Take a damn compliment!" 

He peers over your shoulder to see the chips in your bag. "Damn, you're really kissing up to me today. What's the occasion?" He's beaming over the attention you're showering him with - he'd never admit how much he loved it.

You shake your head playfully. "What, I can't spoil my favorite person?" 

Bakugo barks out a laugh while opening the sports drink and chugging half of it in one go. Again, it was stupid how attractive he was, no matter what he did. The summer breeze made his blonde locks dance lazily in the morning sun, a sheen on his flawless skin as some of the liquid spilled out of the corner of his mouth, trickling down his jawline. A sadistic part of you thought he did this shit on purpose to rile you up, testing the boundaries of your friendship. 

If only you had the nerve to just scream from the rooftops - Katsuki, I fucking love you.

“You good, Y/N?” He's waving a hand in front of your face. “Space case much?”

“Yeah! Sorry, apparently still waking up,” you apologize while stretching your arms over your head. “Let’s go!”

───

An hour later, you and Bakugo finish your run in the park, completely drenched in sweat. The two of you plop under a nearby tree in the shade, the humidity adding a layer of exhaustion to your depleted stamina. Lazily slouching over onto your shoulder, he steals the sports drink out of your hand and downs the rest of it himself with a satisfied hah. Somehow, you always forget that he smells like caramel and burnt sugar after a run, invading your senses with that sweet essence that you loved. His bangs stuck to the sweat on his forehead as he dropped his head back against the tree, eyes closed as he caught his breath. 

God, he’s so fucking beautiful, you think to yourself, almost afraid he'd somehow hear you.

"I'm free the rest of the day," he comments between shallow breaths, lazily opening one eye and elbowing your side. "Down for a movie day? Been awhile."

"Hell yeah. Junk food, too?" Your eyes light up with excitement.

"Like you gotta ask. I didn't run three fuckin' miles just to look good," he quips. "Cool if I shower at your place?"

That catches you off guard, sending a flutter of butterflies off in your stomach. Why the hell are you so riled up today? Sure, you've had a massive crush on your best friend for ages, but its usually not this intense. Must be the scent of his sweat deluding your thoughts...or maybe it’s the potential scene of watching him walk out into your living room, shirtless - excess water cascading down his hourglass figure, tracing his abs and settling into the hem of his sweatpants.

Stop it! Calm the fuck down.

"S-sure. I have a pair of your sweats, I think…maybe Izuku’s? It’s like you guys leave your shit at my place so I do your laundry for free." 

He shoves you jokingly, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Hah! Knew it was you who stole my favorite pair. I’ve got shit with me, no worries.”

Bakugo climbs to his feet, extending a hand back to you. “C’mon, I’m fucking starving and dying to do nothing the rest of the day.”

───

The sunset’s sorbet-colored afterglow flooded the living room as the fourth movie’s credits rolled on the TV screen, a faint warm breeze coming through the open balcony door. The two of you had settled in after your run, marathoning through a collection of films you'd be wanting to watch, surrounded by a buffet of comfort food - taiyaki, meat buns, spicy fried chicken bites, mabo tofu, yakitori, and a box full of various flavors of dango. The cashier at the convenience store must have thought you two were hosting an insane party with how much food you bought, cleaning out their entire hot foods section in minutes. 

Bakugo stretched out like a cat, his abs flexing as his black tank top moved up his midsection. It was impossible not to stare, especially when he wore cropped shirts, showing off his hard earned muscles. You found it ironic how you mentioned once - and only once - how crop tops on guys are attractive as hell, and a few weeks later? He had a handful of them that he’d rotate wearing during the summer, claiming he only wears them for “regulating his temperature for his quirk.” You knew that was a bold-faced lie, but never called him on it. Why would you risk making him change his mind when they looked so good on him? 

He let out a satisfactory groan, putting his feet up on the coffee table and hands behind his head. You stretch as well, throwing your feet in his lap like always. Bakugo looked comfortable, like he was at home. You were home to him.

“I got somethin’ on my face?” He jokes, lolling his head to face you. 

Lost in thought, you have no time to stop the words falling from your mouth.

“No, just admiring you.”

Bakugo quirks an eyebrow, surprised by your flattery. You see a faint pink blush begin to make it’s way across his cheeks, an extremely rare sight.

“Th-thanks,” is all he can muster to say in a low voice. 

“Is that so weird to say? You’re gorgeous, Katsuki,” you blurt out, shocked by your own words. Where the hell is this coming from? You normally weren't so...forward. Not that you were lying in any capacity. You've complimented him plenty times before, why is now different? 

Right?

You pause, realizing you could be overwhelming him. He'd always been adamant on how much he hates when "fans" view him as just a sex object rather than respect him as a heroic figure. 

“I know you hate being objectified. I’m sorry -,”

“Don’t be, y’didn't.” 

The static of the TV hummed through the lull in your conversation, the credits of the last movie approaching the end of its sequence. You nervously fiddle with the hem of your shirt. Thank fuck he can't hear your thoughts.

Bakugo notices your nervous tick and grins. That damn shit-eating grin. 

"Relax, Y/N. I didn't say I didn't like it. Big difference between you and a fan girl sayin' shit like that." 

As he’s about to continue the conversation, both of your phones ring simultaneously. That’s weird…it’s 8:30PM on a Tuesday night. Neither of you were scheduled for patrol and all sectors had coverage from the last e-mail update. You pull your phone out to check the caller ID and sigh in annoyance.

Incoming Call: AGENCY - EMERGENCY LINE

“The fuck?” Bakugo huffs, his brow furrowed in confusion. 

───

After 15 minutes, you're debriefed with a new mission, and strangely, you’re assigned with none other than Bakugo and Midoriya. This was extremely uncommon for heroes of top 10 rank to work with those below rank 25 and only happened when other top 10 heroes are too busy. Emergency calls were normally automated messages, but this was a personal conference call from the board of directors.

We are in need of Y/H/N to assist Dynamight and Deku’s mission to stake out a villain’s laboratory tonight in Sector 42. We’ve received reports of civilians going missing near the area over the last few weeks, specifically those with uncommon and rare quirks. There is a probability that hostages are being using for the development of a secret serum, to which is unknown at this time. Report to the agency by 11:30PM for further instruction.

Man, you were really looking forward to more time with Bakugo. Granted, you’ll still be with him, but now you’ll be stalking around for work, not stuffing your face on the couch together.

“Kat, I don’t know what it is, but I…I have a really weird feeling about this stake out,” you admit, unsure of where this anxiety is coming from. This isn’t the first time you’ve been assigned to a mission like this, and certainly won’t be the last, there was just something odd in the air surrounding this one. 

“Yeah. Go grab your suit, I’ll call Izuku to meet us here and we'll go over together,” Bakugo says hesitantly, already dialing Midoriya and bringing his phone to his ear. 

“Hey, yeah just got the call. Y/N and I are at her apartment, swing by and we'll go to the agency together.”

───

By 11:45PM, the three of you are suited up and stationed in Sector 42. The area was very…barren? It was confusing to you how people would wander out here and disappear. It was in the middle of nowhere, miles from the city limits, an open field surrounded by a spotty tree line. Something still felt off about this entire set up - a gut feeling, but it was enough to keep you on edge.

“Y/N?” Midoriya called to you, blinking with concern. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.”

You rub your temple, desperately trying to push the feeling down. 

“Sorry, Izu. I’ve had a gut feeling something was wrong since the phone call.”

“What do you mean?” His interest is peaked, both out of curiosity and concern. 

“Can’t place it, but I feel it, too. Something’s not right,” Bakugo chimed in, surveying the field for any signs of…whatever the hell it was they’re looking for. An entrance to a lab? Masked minions abducting people? The agency was extremely vague in their details. That didn’t sit well with you, and Bakugo now, too. 

“You’re not wrong. This is an open area in the middle of nowhere. Why would anyone wander out here alone?” Midoriya muttered, continuing a conversation with his own thoughts aloud. “It's not a common road for travel, by foot or by vehicle. And how would the agency know what this villain is making without having the location of the lab in question?”

The abrupt sound of creaking metal echoed around you, a sense of danger spiking in your nerves. You place a hand on the shoulder of both Midoriya and Bakugo to halt them in their tracks.

“Did you hear that? It sounded like a door was opening…close by,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Whoosh!

You didn’t register there was another presence amongst you until the dart made contact with your skin. A warming sensation flowed through your right shoulder as you let out a cry, stumbling to your knee. What the fuck? Your hero suit was designed to prevent piercing damage to a degree, but this dart cut right through it. The dart resembled a syringe, automatically activating the injection mechanism as it pierced your skin.

“Y/N!” Midoriya shouted, immediately wrapping an arm around your waist to whisk you away from another potential attack. Bakugo whipped his head around, looking for any sign of where the dart came from. Was someone hiding, or was it a device hidden out of sight? Maybe in a nearby tree? That's not possible, these trees don't have enough leaves for coverage like that.

“Hold still, I’m going to pull it out,” Midoriya warned. You braced for the pain as he yanked the dart from your shoulder, tossing it out of reach. You wince, the sting slowly fading a few seconds later. “Are you feeling okay?”

Things were starting to feel fuzzy, the ache spreading rapidly through the rest of your body. Everything felt warm and cold simultaneously, as if your body was at war over what temperature to settle on. 

“I’m alright, just…dizzy,” you mumble, slurring as you attempt to reassure him.

Midoriya helps you to your feet, offering to let you use him as support. You wave a hand, muttering over and over again I’m fine, I’m fine. There’s a pulsing sensation starting to build in your shoulder, creeping its way through your right arm. It’s tingling, crawling - uncomfortable, but not painful. What the hell was in that dart? 

A flash of black invades your vision, throwing you off balance as things pixelate and sharpen repeatedly before completely disappearing. Things are spinning and your senses are dulling. You notice that you don’t hear Bakugo or Midoriya anymore…did they wander off? You should be able to hear explosions, gusts of wind, crackling energy - something.

A force knocks you on your back, slamming you to the ground. You don’t feel a damn thing, just a vague numbness as your body, what you presume, hits the ground. You can’t make out whatever, or whoever, it is that is attacking you. I still can’t hear anything! Can you speak? Can anyone hear you even if you could?

…Y…N! …Y/N!

A voice? It’s muffled, but you hear someone calling for you. Was that Midoriya?

“Let her go, jackass!”

Oh no, that’s Bakugo. 

His booming voice reverberates through your head, sending your thoughts whirling in a vortex more than they already were. A vision of the battlefield was starting coming into focus, hazy, but a semblance of scenery was making its way back to you. When did I get up from the ground? Didn't I get knocked down? 

The field before you was littered with debris.

…Branches and broken stumps of dead trees.

…Craters in the ground.

…are those broken pieces of Bakugo’s gauntlets? 

…patchy trails and puddles of blood soaking into the dirt.

The sights sent a chill up your spine - your gut instinct was right. 

To your right, Midoriya panted with force as he held onto his thigh, blood seeping through his suit and staining around the wound. He was close enough that you could see the detailing of his tendons exposed from the impact, frayed pieces of skin hanging from the damage. His hair was slicked back, matted with a mix of, what you think, is dirt and blood. The rest of his suit had a variety of slashes and cuts, the material tattered and torn all over his body.

To your left, Bakugo’s on the ground, battered and bruised as he’s struggling to get to his feet. His gauntlets were missing, along with the glove underneath on his right hand. His exposed forearm was beat red, what looked like hand prints blistering the area. Blood trickled from his forehead and pooled under his mask. He’s shouting again…you can’t quite make out what he’s saying as he’s extending his bare arm in your direction.

What the fuck happened?! 

Something inside you clicks abruptly, adrenaline surging, urging you to fight. It’s competing with the numbness in your muscles. How much damage have you taken if you can’t feel a damn thing?

Fuck. Come on, dammit. Move, fight - do something! Help them!

In your peripheral vision, a man appears beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turn on your heel, ready to activate your quirk and blast this guy into oblivion. Your hand meets his clothed chest with a thump.

Nothing happens. 

Your quirk doesn’t activate.

Another swing, focusing all the energy you have into a concentrated blast.

Nothing.

Panic sets in as you study your hand, mortified that you’ve been rendered useless. Your mind is racing faster than you can keep up with. Is this the serum they talked about earlier? How long was I unconscious...was I even unconscious? 

And then it dawns on you - it’s a quirk suppressant. 

The serum they’re using to abduct people nullifies their quirks to make them a willing target.

The mystery man cups your chin, forcing you to look up at him. Your vision tunnels on his face, the rest of your body shutting back down. You feel your arms flop to their sides as your knees begin to buckle - the adrenaline being zapped from your muscles at his touch. 

“Good, it’s setting in. You’ll be a decent specimen. We’ve been waiting for a psionics user like you to add to our roster.”

A giant swirl of matter begins to manifest in front of you, a gentle force sucking you closer to it’s entry point. You can't help but think about how helpless you look in this moment, confused as hell that this scrawny man could take down three heroes with ease. You fucking hated the feeling, never wanting to be the damsel in distress. It pissed you off beyond belief.

“It’s time.” The man, in what you can now see is a white lab coat, turns you around to face the boys sprawled on the battlefield. “We’ll be going now.”

Every inch of your body is screaming run. But you can’t. You can’t move, paralyzed by all the conflicting effects of the serum running rampant through your veins. Your vision is dimming once more, your eyes threaten to close as Bakugo’s voice drags you back to reality. Your eyes snap open as he appears in front of you, digging his heels into the dirt. 

“Hey, wake up! I’m not letting you go!” 

He’s screaming at the top of his lungs, pleading for you to hear him as he clutches your forearm, attempting to pull you to him. You can’t feel it, but by the strain shown in his bicep, he’s using all of his strength to hold onto you. His eyes are full of panic, wide and bloodshot, crimson irises aflame.

"Let her fucking go!" he roars a second time. His hand is slipping down your forearm, now desperately gripping onto your hand. You attempt to grasp it to no avail, your strength failing you. You hear him let out an anxious grunt, struggling against the force of whatever is pulling you away behind you.

Time seems to slow as you lock eyes, an exchange of unspoken words between you two. A sense of dread begins to flood through your body as you see tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

He's terrified. 

You remember a thought from earlier in the day, if only I could scream "I love you."

There will never be a perfect moment, never a time and place for you to say it. You have to create the moment yourself.

A steady breath escapes you, softly gazing at Bakugo as you see his fingers slipping through your own.

"Katsuki," you mouth, barely able to hear the sound of your own voice.

"I love you."

The last thing you see is Bakugo frantically scrambling toward you before darkness envelops your sight.

- - - BAKUGO POV - - -

Everything happened in the blink of a fucking eye.

Ambushed, both him and Midoriya were hazed with a mysterious smoke, rendering their quirks useless. His explosions fizzled out as he fought the onslaught of henchmen surrounding them, armed with various weapons. The two of them blitzed through a good number of them before quickly becoming overwhelmed - 25 on 2 wasn't ideal odds.

Their hero suits were ripped, equipment shattered as they were punched, kicked, stabbed at, battered, and thrown around.

"I don't need my fuckin' quirk to kick your asses!" Bakugo threatened as he swiped at a nameless henchmen, nailing a right hook to his jaw. Midoriya was holding his own behind him until he let out an agonizing yelp, falling to the ground audibly.

"Deku!" Bakugo called out, spinning in the direction of his cry as someone socked him from the left side. He skid onto the ground, particles of dirt trailing behind him.

Regaining his composure, he looked around to see that all of the henchmen had swiftly disappeared without a trace, as if they were never there in the first place. What the fuck?

He saw her body standing still, some man in a lab coat behind her. She resembled a lifeless puppet, the light from her eyes dim and limbs loosely at her sides. It looked as though she could collapse at any moment.

"Let her go, jackass!" Bakugo shouted, unable to get to his feet.

The unknown man gripped her shoulder as a large black mass appeared behind them. 

Is that a portal? That looks like Kurogiri's quirk from years ago, he thought to himself, willing every fiber of his being to get to his fucking feet.

He's able to muster enough strength get one knee off the ground, enough to launch in range of her and wildly grasp for her hand. 

“Hey, wake up! I’m not letting you go!” 

Bakugo doesn't realize he's screaming, he's acting on impulse and adrenaline - desperation to save her. His hand is slipping at an agonizingly slow pace, moving from forearm to her hand, hardly able to keep his hand clasped with hers. He's cursing internally, hoping that she can't see the terror in his eyes, the anxiety filling him to the brim. That's when he hears her speak, her voice hauntingly quiet.

"Katsuki, I love you."

His hand slips away, watching her disappear into the portal. It closes in an instant as he's hopelessly dashing to it, not noticing that Midoriya is charging from behind him. They briefly collide, stumbling from the impact before they both steady themselves. 

The silence surrounding them is deafening.

"Kacchan," Midoriya snivels, head hung low. "I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough to help." His voice was breaking, clenching his fists at his side.

Bakugo stares at his hand, collapsing to his knees. He felt nauseous, the crippling realization churning in his stomach.

I love you.

Her voice ricocheted through his head, bouncing around as it tugged hard at his heartstrings. An overwhelming sensation of loss fills his heart, refusing to come to terms with the current reality. 

A brief memory flooded into Bakugo's mind, reminding him of a feeling he'd long shoved away. One night - years ago - at his brand new apartment in Tokyo, they'd been up all night talking after the long day of moving his shit into the place. It was 3AM, boxes piled everywhere as they laid in his bed, bullshitting the night away with random talks of life. She started a vulnerable conversation of mental health amongst heroes, ranging from her own family issues and medicated struggles as examples of not knowing what people deal with beneath the surface. He'd been listening, watching as she poured her heart out next to him, able to smile through it all. It was in that moment that struck him like lightning - he'd fallen madly and irrevocably in love with her. He had convinced himself there was no way she would have felt the same, forcing himself to suffocate that feeling for years.

And he was wrong.

Midoriya crouched down beside him as he's lost in the memory, a hand on his shoulder. 

"We'll find her, Kacchan, don't worry," he attempts to declare confidently as his own tears are staining his cheeks. "She's strong, she'll be -,"

"She said she loved me." Bakugo's facade was shattering before his eyes as he watched his best friend crumble onto the ground, clutching his chest. He couldn't control the wail that escaped him, tears pouring from his eyes like the downpour of a rainstorm. 

Midoriya pulled him close, Bakugo falling limply into him, curling into a ball as they sobbed together.

and thus begins the traumatic story of bakugo and midoriya losing their best friend to a mystery portal to nowhere!

Divider by : @/saradika

[dsmp-lainey]

guys how do we feel about my personal dsmp ending rewrites:

-c!wilbur doesn’t just get to fuck back off to where he came from after doing all that damage (also it never made sense to me because how tf is he the child of death and an angel and living in UTAH?) instead he actually goes and finally kills dream (and probably dies in the process) so tommy can finally start to heal

-c!techno after rescuing micheal starts trying to convince phil to let him talk to kristin to make a deal. philza initially outright refuses but is worn down over time as techno pleads. through possession of phils body kristin is able to meet with techno, and at this time techno proposes a deal. techno will trade his life for ranboo to come back. Kristin agrees to this with some reluctance (knowing that philza will be heartbroken) and brings Ranboo back to life while taking Technos soul. Ranboo comes back and him, tubbo and micheal live happily ever after. Luckily kristin is able to pull some strings and combined with the magic already tied to technos soul, she is able to elevate him into becoming one of the non corporal gods of the world (like her, XD and drista are)

-like i said c!Beeduo gets their happily ever after, they move back into the snowchester mansion with micheal, tubbo apologizes to aimsey and asks her to move in with their little family, tommy lives with them at times but will never fully abandon his little embassy that survived everything. they all begin to heal.

-with the dissolution of the syndicate niki decides to move back to nearby lmanburg, they never try to repair the crater as it serves as a needed reminder of what has occurred. niki is firmly in favor of anarchy at this point but decides that she must also work to build community outside of country’s and sides. her and puffy get back together and build a nice cottage, niki builds a new bakery. many other members of the smp, most notably eret, join and live in the peaceful community

-fundys story ends the same, he finally leaves and finds a place free of his fathers mistakes and influence. he feels like he truly belongs for the first time in his life.

-for quackitys ending, i don’t hate the canon ending as i think it would make sense for the toxic lessons he taught slime to ultimately be his undoing (also bc that speech is amazing) but i think him and schlatt should get to be happy/at least at peace in the afterlife

-c!phil continues to live in technos house for several generations, watching the people he knew grow old and stories be lost to time. eventually he will move on to a new journey but ofc techno and kristin will be watching over him. this is the life of an eternal angel

anywayssss there’s some of my ideas feel free to ask if you have questions or want to add on :)

[not-quite-ran]

Let's get married

(a dreamnoblade one-shot)

"Let's get married" Dream almost laugh, no, he did laugh, because he thought he was joking, because who would propose in the middle of the artic, just outside a secret base of an anti government organization that had just finished a meeting, besides it didn't even sound as a proposal, so he just laugh.

But Techno didn't laugh with him. In fact, when Dream turn to look his way, Techno was holding a circular object that was also very shiny that happened to look exactly like an engagement ring.

"Oh"

-----

Life after prision break wasn't easy, but Techno was there. 

Techno was there when Dream was physically able to hold a sword again.

Techno was there when he succeeded in hold a pen properly, and do readable orations instead of his usual cat scratches.

Techno hold him when the night terrors were unbearable and he live sleepless for a couple of weeks.

Techno was there when he had to empty his guts in the bathroom when he had a little too much food when his stomach wasn't able to handle it yet.

Techno was there, and even better, Techno was there for him.

So when Techno offered him a place at the syndicate table, Dream was euphoric.

Not everybody was exited to meet him at the syndicate table, but a couple of years had passed and he was unbothered, besides, the syndicate wasn't really busy, so it really was just an excuse to reunite in a calm place to chat and have some of the pastry Nikki always bake for them

It was nice.

Dream could get use to this.

And he did.

--

Dream wasn't a man of formalities in his personal life, and honestly after all the "no attachments" thing in his past he was kind of lost in the topic now. So when he and Techno past from foreign touches, to cuddles, to kisses, to straight up make out sessions and ,,, other stuff, they really didn't say much, it felt natural, maybe not really talk about it wasn't ideal, but it work for them and no one really never cuestion it, so, no need.

Dream had already sense the subtle change in their routine, they were entering a very domestic routine (more domestic that it already was), Dream could feel it, and it was nice, it was peaceful, and warm, and Dream was tired. Recovery was a very tiring process, and Dream wasn't complete heal.

He didn't think he would never be.

But it was fine.

He had Techno.

And it was very obvious right now.

Techno wasn't in his knees, Dream didn't think he could stand it if Techno kneel, but he didn't need to, because Dream was already in his horse and even if Techno was a fucking giant, Dream have to look slightly downwards to look at him from his place at the top of his horse.

Techno also wasn't offering the ring per se, he was handing it over, like it was anything but a fucking engagement ring-

"Okay, rude, you could had just say no instead of laughing at my face, but okay" Techno was teasing, Dream could hear it in his voice, but he also could hear the slight wavering, like he was insecure.

Techno was never insecure.

"N-No, wait ,,, what?" Dream tried, he did, but his brain refuse to catch up with all that was happening.

"I said, we should ,,," Techno bring the ring closer to Dream's face, again, like he was presenting anything but a ring. "We should get married"

Dream blinked,

Once,,

Twice-

"That it's the most horrible proposal I ever heard, and I have heard a few." Dream couldn't help but laugh, again, and Techno was about to retreat his hand when he lean in and put his hand over Techno's. Techno smiled.

"Okey, nerd, leave me alone, this is a full player thing I have zero knowledge about this kinda stuff in players culture." Dream couldn't help but smile

"Then you should try and do it in a way you understand it." Despite everything, Dream took the ring from Techno's hand and put it in his finger, and took his time to admire it, it was truly beautiful, Techno has put a lot of thought in it. He smile, "It's really beautiful Tech." 

"I'm glad you like it" Techno took Dream's hand, and he also admire the ring in his finger, he look proud. "And now that you accept my courting, it's the first of various ornaments that I should give to you, mate." It wasn't a question,  but it also wasn't a affirmation.

"Well, I think I would like to get married to you, mate."

Dream swore he had never seen Techno smile wider.

Yeah, he will be fine.

Because he had Techno.

And Techno had him.

[piscespixiewastaken]

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Technoblade discovers that Dream is living in the prison

~~ @sixteenth-day-event Prompt: Technoblade discovers that Dream is living in the prison

~~ Technoblade didn’t usually think of his rival as an idiot. Usually. But this had to take the cake.

“So uh, why are you here?” he asked, trying to keep the confusion out of his tone. 

He and Dream both stood in the prison’s entry hall, just in front of the portal that lead to the outside world. The stack of TNT in Techno’s inventory was starting to weight a little heavier with the realization that was staring him in the snout.

The green teletubby, who was apparently no longer homeless, scoffed.

“What? You asked if I had a house and then have the nerve to ask what I’m doing here?” Dream countered.

Techno could feel the glare coming from underneath the cracked mask on his rival’s face. Looks couldn’t kill, but he was sure Dream was trying. Too bad Technoblade never dies, especially to such a pathetic attempt.

L

L

loser living in his old prison

L

L

Even chat agreed.

“I’m just saying, but living in the same place you were, you know, tortured for several months is not an ideal coping mechanism, I gotta be honest,” Techno replied.

Dream visibly bristled at the comment. “Well, well then you can leave if-if you dislike it that much!” His voice cracked at the end. It would have been funny under other circumstances.

“Look, if you’re that desperate for a home, I can see about sneaking you into my cabin. You can hide from Phil and everyone else. But this place can’t be good for you.” Techno gestured to the stone walls around them.

Dream was definitely glaring at him. Techno was surprised the mask hadn’t disintegrated from the intensity of said glare.

“Just… what are you even doing here?” Dream asked, exasperation in his tone.

Techno sighed. He could tell the truth and have his rival really hate his guts. Or he could lie and say a concerned citizen spotted Dream in the prison area. But he was pretty sure that wouldn’t get Dream to trust him. And considering how tense and closed off Dream looked, that trust was waning by the minute.

“Look, the prison when Sam was Warden was a place of abuse of authority. And Sam isn’t here anymore because Phil and Ranboo saw him walking around as a free man. So I was here to take the prison down as a part of the Syndicate.” Techno retrieved a piece of TNT from his inventory and held it out. “You being here instead makes that a little more complicated. You’re not holding anyone inside, are you?”

Dream’s shoulders relaxed. “No. No one’s here but me. And I intend to keep it that way.”

Techno’s eyebrow rose up his forehead. “But why here? You’re free, Sam was in prison, Quackity has fewer allies. You could have gone anywhere.” He gestured to walls around them. “Why come back here?”

“It’s a fortress, Techno. Completely secure, with all the things I need to stay safe. What better place to be, huh?”

For a moment, Techno could see just barely see the kid he’d dueled before coming to the server. And that image was replaced with the scared young man he’d comforted in that horrid cell. 

“Why do you need a fortress, Dream?”

What had this place, this server done to Dream? To Quackity? To Techno? To all of them. Techno would probably never know.

“You… you wouldn’t understand, Tech. There’s so much…. It’s too important. You wouldn’t understand,” Dream responded, but didn’t quite meet Techno’s eyes. It was almost like he couldn’t.

Techno sighed. “All right. All right, I won’t blow up your house, Dream. Can’t leave you homeless again.” He heard Dream scoff again and grinned at the green teletubby before schooling his expression. “But if you need help, talk to me. Gotta be honest, this is making me a little worried about you.”

He had to suppress a wince as chat exploded.

Technosoft

Technosoft

Technosoft

Technsodt

lol typo

typo L

typo L

typo L

L

Dream’s shoulders hunched before he visibly forced himself to relax. 

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Well, I’ll be off. See ya, nerd,” Techno called as he stepped back through the portal.

As Techno left the prison behind, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding come over him. He ignored it. Dream was an adult. A young and stupid one, but still an adult. He was responsible for his own actions. Techno just hoped it wouldn’t lead to disaster.

[simplepotatofarmer]

black dog au.

c!dream loses his final life. as far as everyone knows, he's gone. time moves on. las nevadas is growing. the syndicate has a new member.

they only go by their code name. they wear a black dog mask, its snout pulled into a white, toothy smile. they never speak.

people outside of the syndicate think they're a myth, something made up to make the syndicate seem scarier. not that they needed it, of course.

the members of the syndicate were wary at first but the black dog has proven themself over and over. they're used to the dark presence in the corner, the silent laughter at techno's jokes or annoyed head shakes directed at ranboo. whoever it is, they're a member, just like all the others.

techno has a feeling.

[unhappy-last-resort]

Only In Aphotic Hours

Fandom: PTN (Path To Nowhere)

Genre: Yandere, smut, angst

Main Characters: Cinnabar, GN Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Dub-con, fingering (reader receiving/giving), oral (reader giving), lesbian situationship, reader has a vag, Cinnabar is being weird, pre-established relationship

It's cold.

That's the thought that echoes in the empty halls of your tired mind as you stare at your ceiling fan spinning tiredly above your bedroom. There's a metal rattling sound from the other end of your apartment, probably someone going up the rusted stairs. You rub your eyes more roughly than you should and turn to look at your alarm clock, red numbers glaring 1:10 A.M. at you and reminding you that you had work in a few hours, and more annoyed at your early wake-up.

Your fingers tap at the duvet cover as you consider what to do. You stayed up too late this past weekend- waiting for someone who never showed- and you really, really need your sleep. Tea. You'll get some tea, it'll warm you up and hopefully relax you enough to go back to sleep.

With a grumble, you sit up pull a blanket around your shoulders, and stand, wincing as your feet hit the floor and the chill spreads into bone. Sure, you could, in theory, turn off the fan, but you know if you do, you'll wake up covered in sweat—the joys of living in a shitty apartment building.

You hobble down the narrow hallway, the only thing that stood between your bedroom and your kitchen— save for the tiny bathroom tucked into the end of the hallway and right in front of your bedroom door— really, your "apartment" was just a straight line with squares attached to it. You ignore the AC that you knew wouldn't do anything no matter how you fiddled with it, and enter your kitchen; flipping the switch and blinking as yellow light floods your vision.

The one thing you could be thankful for is that the cramped living situation allowed you to see everything immediately. The kettle waiting on your stove, the tea you always use sitting on your counter and tucked against the wall, the coat rack crookedly screwed into the wall, there were no hidden surprises in your place. Everything is as it's presented to you, as you last left it.

You flick the stovetop on and huddle back into a corner of your cramped kitchen, staring absentmindedly at the darkened sky that shows through the large— too large, in your opinion— square window on your door. Maybe if you lived high enough to see over the neighboring apartment building, you wouldn't mind it so much, but you don't and you hate how you sometimes get the feeling of being watched when you're in here. Actually, you've started noticing the peculiar itch of eyes on you even in your bedroom too. When did that start?

There's another, subtle rattle of the metal stairs outside and you still, the quiet buzz beneath your skin telling you to listen. There's a rumble of laughter in the distance that seeps through the walls, and the sound of someone's AC kicking on, but not that distinct rattle of rusted metal you'd come to know. Sure, it could be someone in your building staying out late, maybe getting a breath of fresh air, or looking at the deeply unpleasing view of the dirty street and alleyways below.

You're probably overthinking.

You stared at the tiled floor, it's uncomfortable and icy to stand on, most of the year you don't care, but as you start to smell the snowy tendrils of oncoming winter in the air, the sinking dread of facing another winter alone in your apartment, trying not to freeze as you shiver beneath every blanket you own consumed you. What you wouldn't give for an escape from that torment.

Huh. Escape.

You always dreamed of escaping Syndicate, of going to better, higher places away from the filth and violence that permeated your life like swelling warts, but maybe you've already given up on that dream, or maybe you didn't. Maybe that's why you latched onto her the same way a drifting soul in the sea latches onto a piece of rotted, broken wood from a ship. You believed she could bring you to safety with her loving smiles that brightened the world, her strong arms that held you tightly in the night, her eyes that glimmered like ocean waves, mysterious and gentle as they wrapped around you and coaxed you into the depths of warmth.

You hated the way life would freeze and dull when she wasn't around like spring flowers breaking from the Earth only to realize it was still snowing. You lived for the momentary warmth and unspoken promise of care and safety she brought into your world. You ached for it like a sunflower aches for the sun to shine its light over the horizon.

A loud slam of a door comes from beneath your feet and a tremor runs up the walls. Water bubbles inside the kettle and the metal stairs creak and shake with each heavy step the person on them takes. The man who lived below was old and angry, you'd always hated going down the stairs each morning after a certain incident. You still remember what it felt like, standing on the stairs, hand gripping the railing as you gaped at the window, a black box where hatred and anguish had coalesced into a person staring back at you, the surroundings unfurling like a blooming rafflesia, simultaneously drawing your attention to the-

Door knob rattling.

It's slow, the swing of the door followed by the cold sweeping in and wrapping around your ankles, the boot landing heavily on the small bit of wooden floor that marked a difference between the entrance and kitchen. The tall figure slouching through the doorway, yellow, cracked goggles flashing in the yellowed kitchen light. Matted, wet, black and blue hair sticking to each other; dirty jacket, white shirt, stained brown.

It's her.

Warmth is undercut with the prickly cold of fear, bunching in your veins beneath joy and settling over your shoulders, crawling up your neck, and wrapping upwards to meet your ear. It's different, something's wrong. It whispers feverishly, tugging at your nerves to run back into the box of your room- away from warmth.

She yanked off her goggles and dropped her shield on the floor, the loud thud making you flinch before she started tugging off her jacket. This is…Well, normally, she knocks and says who she is and almost tip-toes her way in, like she was afraid of disturbing the air you occupied despite your attempts to break the delicateness that wove itself between you. She always treated you like something that could be easily destroyed without her realizing, like carefully crafted lace that could fray if rubbed the wrong way, like the very bedsheets you rested on were holy.

This- as you watched her drop her gloves onto her jacket on the floor instead of putting them on the coat rack- was, careless. The most reliable member of Serpent Eye, who always did her job, who was always sweet, and kind, and warm, and cautious to the point it hurt; was being careless. The cold around your neck held tighter and your heart sent a shudder that ran to the pit of your stomach, blossoming into warmth that bubbled in your veins.

"Cinnabar!" She looks at you instantly, her blue eyes wide, and your voice comes out unexpectedly loud and excited. You wince, but she just smiles and you continue, being careful to set a casual tone this time. "I didn't know that you were coming." Is everything okay?

She pauses, sticking her tongue in her cheek before leaning down to untie her boots. "I had an errand to run here and thought I'd make up for the missed date." She glances up at you with a sheepish smile, shy and cheeky- mostly the latter. "It was last minute so I couldn't text you."

You hum, rubbing your thumb into the flesh of your upper arm as you watch her. She'd usually at least knock before coming in, in fact, there was only one other time she ever showed up unannounced and it wasn't like this with her boots printing reddish-looking mud on your floor.

Maybe it was the shitty apartment lighting or the midnight sky that shone through the door's window and framed her face, but her eyes seemed to share the unending darkness of the night- and you are at its epicenter.

She smiled, the corners of her mouth upturned in a familiar way, the stretch of her lips that you'd seen before, the crinkles around her eyes in their expected place; but something about it settled unnaturally in your stomach.

"Hey," She says softly and takes one step forward, one step closer to the threshold between the entryway and the kitchen. "I'm sorry if I startled you." She dropped her shoulders and bent her knees slightly, quirking her head with a wry smile as she carefully stepped her way toward you. Maybe she was trying to appear smaller to you, but it feels like you're about to be pounced on. "I just...really wanted to see you." She's past the kitchen sink now. Her fingers twitch as she drags them over the countertop.

She's close enough to smell now, smoke, gunfire, and something tangy that tickles your throat. You don't know when you were caught in the corner where the counter and wall meet, but Cinnabar's in front of you, the sheen of sweat highlights the muscles flexing beneath her arms as she places them gently on either side of you, the wall creaking behind you.

Your breath is caught in your throat the same way your eyes have been captured by hers. You can feel her breath brush against your skin like a bubbling inferno that spreads throughout every inch of your skin and ignites with an ache to burn.

"Is that alright?" She whispers, but it's so loud it's the only thing you can hear. It's the only thing that rings through your mind, ricocheting off walls and silencing the cold that was on your shoulders, sealing it somewhere deep beneath your skin.

You can feel one of her hands inching toward you as she tilts her head to the side, her smile patient, gentle, and a little needy as it always was in the moments before you'd find yourselves tangled in each other. Yet you could tell something was interwoven in the texture of her skin and the fire behind her lashes, something that seemed insatiable and greedy. "I don't…know?"

She chuckles, her Adam's apple bobbing in her throat. "Flustered?" She leans in and cups your cheek, glancing at something off to the side for a moment. "Don't worry, just think of it like last time."

A tense beat of silence and then the kitchen light is snuffed out with a click and her lips are on yours in the same instant, feverish and sloppy and unlike any other time she kissed you. You're left reeling, grabbing at her shoulders as she drags you out of the kitchen.

Her kiss is rough and consuming, suffocating in ways you didn't know she was capable of. Her starting kisses were never like this, never did she part your lips with her tongue so eagerly, never did she hold you, hostage, against a wall with her fingers prying at the edges of your shirt with too much eagerness for precision. It was never like this, but it has never been more intoxicating than now.

You could stop her, you could pull away, but as you push her into the closet door of your hallway, you feel her smile against your lips as your hands drift and squeeze at her ass and thighs- why should you stop?

She pushes you in the direction of your bedroom, finally slipping a hand beneath your shirt and wrapping it up your back to keep you upright as you both stumbled your way in the dark, reluctant to let your lips separate farther than a breath as if you might disappear if she can't hold you and keep you close.

Your knees catch the edge of your mattress and your lungs are burning for oxygen as you both crash onto the bed and she finally lets you breathe. You stare at the fan spinning overhead, perpetual and ordinary, as Cinnabar's calloused fingers hook the band of your pajamas and pull it down. You hear her sigh as you come into view and she swipes two fingers over your wet folds, before dragging them up to tease your clit. That's not ordinary- it's a special occasion, it always was. You wish it was ordinary.

She leaned over you, resting her forehead against yours and despite the bubbling pleasure that slowly spread through your veins- your hips bucking into her hand, you found your eyes solely focused on her face, on her eyes. Her pupils were blown wide, and the oceanic blue of her irises which were usually gentle and patient had a frayed sense of restlessness you couldn't place your finger on.

She didn't let you think of that for long as she slipped her fingers down, pushing into you gently and curling your fingers, before dragging them up to your clit again, her lips pressing kisses into your neck.

She moves to suck at a spot just beneath your jaw before she lifts her head and kisses you softly. You hold each other's gaze as soft moans fall from your lips and your hands wander to cup her breast, kneading and pulling at the soft flesh. Her other hand drags up your arm and intertwines with yours, pulling it away from her breast to kiss your fingers, her eyes staying locked on yours as she leans in to gently bite into the tender flesh of your wrist.

She tore her gaze away from you to her fingers, smiling softly. "You always feel so nice to touch." She looked at you again and you were rendered breathless with how much adoration she held within her eyes, like it was pouring out of them in a thick sludge that threatened to choke you.

"I've never stopped thinking about you since we met." Her pointer and index finger move in a slow, circular motion, now she suddenly wants to take her time to appreciate you. "I was just…"

She takes a deep breath, her voice sounding unnaturally frail and small. "I was worried you'd get hurt." She shifts, cupping her free hand against your cheek and tracing your features. "I couldn't stand the thought of that, but I also couldn't live without you."

"Are we doing this now?" In a way, it's everything you ever wanted from her and it also couldn't be farther from it. You had tried so many times to have a meaningful discussion about this and she always answered with a sigh and a kiss before leaving your bed cold.

Her eyebrows twitch downwards, bunching the skin on her nose, her lips forming a sad, thin line. She looks like she wants to say a lot, but instead, she forces into a smile so painful looking, you don't want to look at it.

"Look, I…" She waits for a while, choosing her words carefully before sighing. "I know I haven't been the most transparent." Her fingers rub your bud languidly. "But, I promise things are going to be different from now on." She slips her fingers down in between your folds, pushing them as deep as they can go and spreading her fingers apart. "Trust me, okay?"

She smiles as she pulls her fingers out, lifting them enough for you to see them glittering with your arousal in the moonlight before she pushes them back in again and rubs your nub with her thumb as you gasp and squirm on the sheets beneath you.

She leans in and you feel her breath, hot against your skin, before she closes her lips on your neck and bites into it. You tug at her tank top mindlessly, wishing she would've taken it off earlier as your hand's fumble upwards, feeling the soft firmness of her abs, one hand tangling into her hair as the other pulls her shirt up. You can feel her muscles shift beneath your touch, her heart pounding so loudly you can feel the tremors through her skin.

Your head rolls to the side, catching your own hazy eyes in the mirror, watching as the muscles in her neck flex as she works to leave a hickey on your skin- something she always does when she visits you and that you always admonish her for when you have to go to work the next day.

You watch as she pulls away from your neck with a wet pop and turns her head to look at you through the mirror, a mischievous grin on her lips.

She leans forward, lips ghosting your ear as she keeps her eyes on your reflections. "Keep your eyes on the mirror, baby." She whispers huskily. "Don't look anywhere else."

You squeak out a hum of approval and she chuckles airily. She drags your pajama shirt up until your chest is exposed, you watch her lick her lips before she leans down and flicks her tongue over your nipple. You gasp with a jolt and you feel her smile against your skin.

You swallow as you watch her lips close around your nipple, and her fingers begin to slide in and out of you, her thumb brushing your clit as she goes up to her knuckles in you. Her tongue rubs against your nipple in a circular motion as she sucks on it as if it's her favorite thing in the world.

Your back arches and your hands find themselves in her hair as her teeth drag over your nipple, her fingers curling to reach that spot at a brutal pace that puts stars in your eyes, the coil in your stomach tightening until your thighs start to shake and-

Your arms wrap around her, feeling the warmth of her body kiss your skin through her tank top. She releases your hardened nub and moves her hand up your back to cradle your head, making you look at her in her dilated eyes and wetted lips, feel her hot, shallow breaths on your face as your hips roll to meet her fingers as she curls them to hit that spot.

The dark room gives way to a blinding all-encompassing, white, accompanied by the press of her lips on yours as your orgasm stains her fingers.

She only pulls her fingers out when your breath evens and puts them in her mouth, sucking them clean. "You did a good job." She whispers as she pulls you into a hug and lays down.

Your breath softens into quiet, heavy breaths as your consciousness is returned to its body. You feel the dampness in the sheets beneath you, the smell of sex in the room, the brush of air from the spinning fan, and the distant sound of cars somewhere outside.

Cinnabar lingers, nuzzling into your neck as if she felt the same euphoria you did. Slowly, reluctantly, she slid her fingers out and you watch as she pushes them past her lips and sucks them clean.

She smiles at you again, teeth peeking through as she lays down next to you, a kiss on your cheek and a red glint hidden in the depths of her pupils. "I missed hearing you like that." She thumbs your cheek, breaths mingling together in the small space between you.

Warmth, joy, and safety, are what you choose to associate her with in your mind, and you want nothing but to embed your roots in her skin and sear yourself into her heart. Entwine your existence with hers so she can't leave you frozen and alone-"Then why don't you stay?"

Her smile falters for a fraction of a second and another hairline crack goes through your heart and creates another rift in your soul and her warmth retreats faster than you can stop her.

"I forgot something." Your hand misses her arm as you reach out. She disappears into the darkness beyond your doorway without another word, the cold air stings you and dives beneath the skin to ripple through bone.

You plop your head against the pillow, staring at the ceiling fan as it continuously spins as if nothing happened. As if you weren't just left alone again by the only person you'd ever shared your bed with.

Every time she leaves, you feel a part of you goes missing, like each time she visits she carves into you and doesn't give back the pieces. Maybe you should just end things. Cinnabar is the description of a perfect potential partner, but ever since she came into your life it's been rough waters, choppy seas, and stormy nights that leave you empty in its wake.

You weren't sure what you were hoping for when you…well, now that you think about it, you never really agreed to this, did you? Maybe that's another reason you should-

"Hey, sorry for leaving you." She whispers and you hear something heavy and metal being set on the floor- right next to the bed. "I just really needed to get something." she nuzzles back into your neck and sighs.

Your fingers twitch at your side, tiny fractures sting your fingerpads, hesitation filling their gaps as you slowly raise your hand to reach over her side and you turn until you're both facing each other.

Your fingers ghost over her cheek and trace her faint smile that grows a little wider at your touch and down the center of her neck- Adam's apple bobbing with a swallow- and down the divet of her chest, over her abs, and stop at the belt of her pants. She watches your hand as it slowly undoes the belt, her hand drifting to squeeze your hip while you work to open the fly of her pants.

You bite your bottom lip as you get a peek of hair splayed in every direction and her white, low-rise panties. You tug, revealing the divet where her hips and stomach meet, leaning down to cradle the small mound hidden between her legs.

You slip your fingers down, watching them disappear as you follow the heat and dampness leaking through her underwear, you can feel your finger parting her folds and you curl it slightly, smiling as she sucks in a breath next to your ear.

You roll your finger, feeling that hard little nub through the fabric, a growing itch in your throat to bury yourself between her legs until she shakes and cries for you. Until she begs for you not to stop in that heady, breathless voice until she tugs your hair and pulls you in deeper with her legs until you almost suffocate from her.

You sit up and her grip tightens on your hips. "Stay close to me." She tugs you forward until you almost fall on her, a hand gliding down to your thigh to push your knee in between her legs. "I wanna hold you."

You sigh and watch as your hand drags up the side of her hips and latches around the hem of her top. "Fine," you lean in until your noses brush against each other, her soft pants brushing over your lips. "If that's what you want." This time, when your hand travels up the expanse of her stomach and cups her breast, she doesn't stop you. Instead, you feel her hips softly grind against your leg.

Her lips feel soft against yours, she opens up and allows your tongue to slip inside, tangling in each other as you palm her breast. You can hear her breath get heavier between kisses, feel her heart race in your palm, and taste her hunger on your tongue.

She's hot, her skin is hot with a light mist of sweat as her hips roll more fervently. You kiss from the corner of her lips to the cut of her jaw, to the tender flesh of her neck. Her pulse beats in your lips and you catch it with your teeth as Cinnabar writhes in delight beneath you.

Her fingers grab at the plush of your thighs, your name on her lips as her fingers find your folds once more.

You gasp as her slender fingers toy with your bud and your hands move to rub her clit through her clothes. You find yourself grinding on her leg as you suck languid spots of her neck, feeling the fabric dampen with each movement of your hips.

Her breathing starts to run ragged and she pauses her ministrations with the slightest hesitance to yank her pants off, finally growing tired of the barrier between you— which you gladly assist her with.

You move back and slip your hands beneath her knees, holding her legs apart as you take her in. Her half-exposed chest rises and falls with every breath, her eyes now half-lidded and completely clouded in a smokey haze that watches you with a barely restrained eagerness, the divets of her hips that glide down to the band of her white panties.

You lean in, eyes locked on each other as you place a kiss on her clit, watching her breath hitch as you slowly drag your tongue up the velvet part of her folds.

Your lips close around her bud as two of your fingers slip inside. "Oh my god…" She gasps and throws her head back, writhing her hips. "Yes, please, right there!"

You thrust your fingers in sharply, smiling at the stilted moan she lets out and her pleading, watery eyes. You swirl your tongue around her clit as you set a fast pace with your fingers.

Your name falls from her lips, the pitch getting higher each time as she mindlessly grabs at the sheets and pillows.

"Please, please...Yes!" Her hips jerk up, eager to draw more pleasure from you as slick builds on your fingers. You curl your fingers upwards and watch her eyes go wide before her lashes flutter as her eyes roll.

You feel her muscles twitch and pull away just enough to see how her swollen folds glisten. You pull your fingers out and replace it with your tongue, pushing it as deep as you can go, grinding your nose into her clit as she grabs fistfuls of your hair, her body curling upwards as her moans and whimpers of your name become more desperate.

You feel the telltale stutter of her hips and tremble of her thighs before she even says anything and you bury yourself further in her, lungs beginning to cry for air as you work your tongue further and further in until she suddenly jolts and a new, warm liquid coats your tongue.

You pull away, panting as you lap up her climax. Sweet and salty, just like you remembered. Did you taste the same to her? Or would she know certain notes and undertones about you that no one else would?

"Oh…" She mutters under her breath, slowly blinking at the ceiling. "Thank you. Fuck I needed that so much."

You hum, more entranced with how her muscles would twitch whenever your tongue brushed over a certain spot.

"Hey," She grabbed your hair again and gently tugged you up to look at her, her hair a mess and lips bitten raw, voice raspy between her chuckles. "Let me breathe for a moment?"

You wipe your chin and cheek as you crawl forward, ready to spend the night cuddling until she— you don't wanna think about that. You just want to savor this moment, this moment that wasn't infrequent enough to be rare, but is just far enough apart to make you crave her presence, her voice, her touch. Her very existence has been memorized on your heart, little engravings on the muscle that ached constantly.

She caught your lips in a kiss so slow and soft and deep you felt your thoughts scramble and shatter, only focusing on the dance the dance and pull she invited you to indulge in. You open your eyes as your lips separate for a moment and find hers looking back at you, watching you, drinking you in as if she can't get enough of what she sees. Does she always kiss you with her eyes open?

She breathes into you, soft and melting as if you were made for each other as if the place you belong is in her arms and on her lips. A hum, a final note in your union as she rests her head on your shoulder. Your fingers comb her hair, gently detangling it as you pray for sleep not to take you— to allow you these few hours of the night to relish in her arms around your hips so tightly it almost hurts. It almost hurts.

It's a slight numbness that's accompanied by the distant hum of cars that draws you to sleep in her arms. Praying once again, that this time— this night, she'll stay until you wake.

Golden rays shine into your tiny bedroom, lighting up the otherwise bland room in a hue of yellow that invites you to stay conscious for just a moment. To appreciate the new day before you remember to dread it. You groan and stretch your arms, hissing when you move too much for your sore muscles.

Like every morning, you reach for your phone and mindlessly scroll through your various social media. Nothing unusual, but a post catches your eye.

It's a public announcement. It says,

Warning all civilians, wanted Sinner—

Cinnabar's lips find your neck as her hand covers the screen, turning your head toward her only allows her to find your lips, her hips pressing against yours. Unlike last night, the kiss is gentler, still eager and still speaking of an appetite not yet fully sated, but she was taking her time in tasting you.

"What do you say," She mumbles between kisses. "We go on a trip somewhere? Together?" She pulls back just enough to let you talk, not enough to let you see anything else but her.

"A trip…?" Going on a getaway with her. It's a dream come true all too suddenly, but letting the dream go feels like eating coal.

"Yeah, just the two of us." She smiles forlornly. "Maybe a nice cabin in the woods for a few weeks?" She traces the side of your face and you see that restlessness again in her eyes. "It'd be nice to be surrounded by nature."

You thought about it. About the life you've lived amongst concrete dirt and brick trees, of the people who treated you like a rat more than a human, and about the life you could live, with her— if even only for a few weeks amongst dewy air and crunching leaves. Alone with no distractions.

"Sure, just let me pack—"

"No need." She smiled and placed a soft kiss on your nose. "We'll have everything we need there, you don't need to bring anything."

"But—"

"Shhh, relax. I'll take care of you. I promise."

More kisses, more gentle touches, but her nails dig slightly into your skin and her teeth nip at your lips. When she sat up to press your wrists down into the sheets, fingers bruising, you saw that night in her eyes again. The endless, wanting, encasing, drowning, darkness that eclipsed her pupils—

It was a thing beyond love, beyond care, a thing that seemed not to hold you, but to own you. To encase itself inside you and rot your heart until you cannot tell where love ended and obsession began.

Perhaps what's worse than that, than the subtle thought she communicated through her blunt nails painfully pressing into skin, is that you went lax and doe-eyed, that you returned her rewarding kiss with fervor, that you let her mark and marr your skin again.

Perhaps the worst thing of all is your loneliness.

[beefrobeefcal]

Dark!Frankie Saga: VII

Chapter Seven: Bring It Home

Pairing: Dark!Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Boston. The Frontiersmen is a crime syndicate that deals in drugs, arms, and anything else they can to keep themselves on top. Since the original ring leader, Tom, was allegedly taken out by a rival gang, it's now run by Big Fish, with Pope second in command. Ironhead runs the numbers and Benny is the muscle. Your family member put you down as collateral when they needed credit to score more smack. Problem is, they can't pay it back, and Big Fish & the Frontiersmen always get their payment...

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Chapter Word Count: 3,740

Content Warning: angst, threats of violence, crime, snark, Major Character Death, stabbing, violence, betrayal, kissing

Author's Notes:

Y'all, I know you had big dreams for this chapter... and I thank you for your patience. Please don't hate me 🥺

The biggest, juiciest, wettest thank you to @neverwheremoonchild for being the Beta Fish for Big Fish (get it? Beta'ing the story about Big Fi-... okay, you got it). Thank you, Nevy! 💜🥩💜

thank you to the following for being supportive good eggs & sounding boards: @theywhowriteandknowthings @toxicanonymity @xdaddysprincessxx @thehalflifeofloveisforever @rebel-held @gracieispunk

And this is not the Chubby!Frankie we know and love in the Catfish & the Mouse universe; he's dark, mean, and hungry. I'll be updating this each week (Monday/Tuesday) until you lose interest or I finish it - let's see what happens first! when i feel like it👌

On the Waterfront Masterlist | Previous Chapter

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From the time Frankie pulled you onto his lap at the bowling alley to when he stood with you at your bedroom door, you felt like you were in a dream. A beautiful, hazy dream that you were pretty sure was going to end with him fucking you in your bed.

“You did good tonight, Honey.”, Frankie said sweetly, cupping your jaw and cheek in his big hand.

You couldn’t help but stare back, falling further for him through his deep, brown eyes. He but the softness in his gaze hardened as he sucked in a breath and released your face, stepping back. He broke the connection with you and looked away. He cleared his throat and nodded towards your door, leaving you feeling cold and confused. What did you do wrong?

“Night, baby girl...”, he mumbled as he turned, heading towards the lounge.

You opened your mouth to say something to him, but all you could do was feel your body react to the lack of his touch and your cheeks burn from the rogue tears that fell. You were alone in the hallway, and you didn’t know why.

*****

Pope had been outside in the shadows, trying to remain inconspicuous while on his phone, when the blacked-out SUV pulled up at the front doors.

“Yes, I know!... fuck you... I’ll call you back...”, he hissed quietly into his phone before ending the call and focused on the two of you returning.

He watched as Frankie got out of the SUV, holding his hand out to you, and saw the stupid look on Frankie’s face as he helped you down from the vehicle. Pope shook his head and rolled his eyes, watching Frankie pull you in for a disgustingly sweet kiss before he tugged you into the building.

He scoffed as he brought his phone back up to call his contact back, a message popped up on the screen.

Steven is done. Now what?

Pope grinned as his deviously sadistic mind’s wheels turned; he pocketed his phone and walked into the building.

*****

Frankie’s heart was beating fast as he walked away from you, and his palms were sweating as he clenched his fists. He didn’t stop until he was standing in his office, shakily sucking in his breaths, and he allowed himself to think about what had just happened. It was one thing for him to go down on you in the bowling alley and hold you as your body came back down – he was still in control. But looking in your eyes as you looked back at him, seeing the same thing he felt staring right back told him he was no longer holding the reigns in this, and it terrified him to his core. He felt like you could see who he really was under his harsh and mean exterior; under it all he was just the former drug addict who battled his demons daily to keep himself upright; just the man who made himself bigger so he could be respected, because no one was going to respect a scrawny junkie. And if you did see it, why did you still want him at all? Did you see weakness? Did you know that just asking him for a kiss would make him weak in the knees? Why did he allow you to get under his skin?

He was finally broken from his trance when the door to the office opened behind him. Frankie whirled around and found himself facing Pope.

“Fish... you got a sec?”, Pope asked, cautiously approaching him, with a judgmental eyebrow raised. When Frankie nodded, trying to shake the weakness of you from his mind, Pope nodded back in kind.

“What d’you need?”, Frankie said coolly as he made his way around his desk and sat down heavily on his chair.

Pope walked up to the desk and leaned heavily on, deciding not to tell Frankie that he saw him come back with you, and how he saw the look on his face and knew what it meant. He instead decided to set in motion what he hoped would be the last thing he needed to.

“I got a message... from one of the grunts under Will... he was making the rounds and checking in on people that owe us...”, he said quietly, trying to sound nervous about what he was going to say. “and, he - uh…”,

“Fuckin’ spit it out, Pope.”, Frankie groaned after a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes.

“He went to Steven’s...”

“Who the fuck is that and why do I care?”, he growled, not looking up at him. “Get to the fuckin’ point!”

“It’s your girl’s brother...”

“What about him?”

“He’s dead.”

Frankie looked up at Pope, feeling his blood run cold.

*****

After being left on your own, you sat in your room, feeling the buzz from the beer slipping away and letting your thoughts drift towards more nefarious avenues. It hurt to know that no matter what happened, you would end up alone; your brother sold you out for more drugs, Benny hated and abandoned you, Will threw you into the lion’s den, and Frankie didn’t want you beyond getting what he could from you. And Pope... you knew what Pope wanted and it made your skin crawl.

The tears that you’d cried had mixed with your make up had dried on your face, leaving your skin feeling itchy and tacky. You needed to clean yourself up and give yourself some comfort, even if it was small. You stepped into the shower and tried to wash away your sadness.

After drying off and getting into your pajamas, you once again sat in your room alone. The weight of solitude was heavy on you, so much so, you could barely stand it. All you could do was pick up your Kindle and try to distract yourself until you fell asleep.

*****

Benny sat back and watched the other guys play a round of foosball. They’d invited him to join but he’d waved them off. He’d wanted to sulk and be angry with no interference; he couldn’t get your face out of his head from the last time he’d seen you the night before, and Frankie’s words to him sounded off like a fire alarm in his skull: She’s not here for you. Stick your dick in literally anything else, but that is mine.

He’d replayed your last interaction with him over and over in his mind over the past 24 hours, building up more rage and fury over how stupid you were being. He didn’t want you for himself; he wanted something better for you. There’s no way Frankie could offer you what you deserve. Fuck, no one in this fucking building could. He sneered as he shook his head, anger rising further each time Frankie’s words bleated in his brain and deafened the rest of his thoughts. Frankie told him to fuck anything like you weren’t even a person. You were just part of the wide scope of anything, like an object he could own and devour like he did everything else he wanted.

Will watched Benny silently from across the room. He saw his brother furiously twisting his hands and clenching his jaw; saw the vein in his forehead pop out as his face turned red with rage. Will knew he was at fault for this; he knew Benny had a soft spot for vulnerable people, especially women. He knew Frankie was wrong about how Benny felt, but he wasn’t willing to correct him and confirm that Benny wanted to fuck her as much as Frankie wanted to diet. But the powder keg that was hitting a critical point across the room in his brother was far more worrisome than he’d accounted for, given even a day going by hadn’t managed to dampen his rage. Benny could be a dangerous man, given the right mindset, and he wasn't afraid of violence or being violent. It was the reason he was so valuable to the Frontiersmen - he wasn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty for the right cause, and Will worried that you were becoming the right reason for Benny to unleash that terrible dog in him at Frankie.

As Will decided it was in everyone’s best interest to try and quell the fire, Pope walked in with a smug grin aimed directly at his brother, and Will felt like he was about to watch a train derail.

“What’s with the long face, fucker?”, Pope crooned sadistically as he sauntered towards Benny.

“Fuck off, Pope.”, he growled in response, his eyes glaring up at the smiling man.

 Will saw the determined, toothy smile breakout over Pope’s face as he squatted down in front of Benny.

“What’s the matter, baby Benny?”, Pope mockingly cooed, amusement bleeding from his tone. “You mad that Fish is cockblocking you from that sweet little puss – “

Benny’s hand jutting out and gripping Pope’s throat stopped him from finishing his sentence. He stood up, pulling Pope into a standing position as he stared wide eyed and clawed at Benny’s arm and wrist, gasping and choking.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”, Benny snarled, pulling Pope’s face close to his.

Will ran up beside Benny and gripped his shoulder, shaking him. “Benny! Drop’im!”

He yanked Benny’s arm back and Pope collapsed on the floor, gasping and coughing.

“GET YOUR FUCKIN’ HANDS OFF ME!”, Benny roared as Will’s arms wrapped around him form behind and pulled him back.

“Fuck you, Pope! Fuck you 'n fuck your fuckin’ smug mouth!”, Benny screamed at him as Will continued to restrain him. ‘FUCK, WILL! LET ME THE FUCK GO! I’ll FUCKIN’ KILL YOU!”

Will knew Benny didn’t mean it. Sure, he’d probably take a swing and hit him – he’d done it before. But beyond that, he knew it was Benny’s rage talking.

Pope shakily looked up at Benny and offered him a cruel smile. Benny saw red; that fucker fueled his blinding rage, and he threw Will off him, storming out of the rec room.

“Don’t move, Pope!”, Will yelled, pointing his finger at him as he turned and ran out after Benny.

Pope smiled, watching him leave after his brother, seeing a brand-new opportunity. Fortune favours the brave…

*****

Benny was on a rampage. Like a rabid bear, he stalked the hallways, making a beeline to the barracks. He’d walked right past Frankie’s office, not even considering stopping there first to tear into him over what he was doing. Will quickly caught up to him, yelling for him to stop.

Frankie sat in his office chair. He heard heavy footsteps coming towards the door and he looked up, but they moved past.  He thought nothing of it until he heard Will.

“Ben! Stop!... Stop 'n take a fuckin’ breather, man!”

“FUCK YOU AND FUCK POPE AND FUCK FISH AND FUCK THAT STUPID BITCH!”

“You’re not thinkin’ this through! You don’t wanna hurt her, Ben! BENNY!”

Will’s panicked voice caught Frankie’s attention and he stood up, listening to the sounds move further down the hallway. He knew not to get in Benny’s way when he was mad, but he was heading towards you and the idea of Benny being in this foul of a mood and even Will wasn’t able to placate him didn’t sit well with him.

Benny threw the doors to the Barracks open and screamed your name. Even being in a separate area, the volume at which he called you made you jump. You dropped your Kindle on the bed and moved cautiously to your door. You clicked the flimsy lock on the doorknob, and you jumped heard the door to the hallway slam against the wall from how hard it was flung open.

Your heart was beating deafeningly loud in your ears, and you backed away from the door as the thumping footsteps got closer and your doorknob jiggled.

Just as soon as you were mentally thanking what every deity was listening for that lock, the door was kicked open and there was Benny. Breathing hard, his face twisted in a snarl and his fists clenched.

You looked up at him, not sure what he was going to do. “Benny... wha - “

“You're so fuckin’ dumb!”, he yelled, stomping towards you and cutting you off. “You’re fuckin’ smarter than this!”

He stood over you, his hot furious breaths fanning over your face. You tried to back away, but he grabbed at your arm.

“Don’t fuckin’ move!”, he yelled in your face, his hold on you tightening.

You yelped and tried to pull away from his grip. He shoved you back, sending you to the floor. Shock gave way to fear and anger as he stalked towards you, and you scrambled back into a standing position.

“Just fuckin’ stay down, you- “

“What do you want from me?!”, you cut him off, yelling in a cracked voice as tears welled up in your eyes.

His eyes narrowed at you and his scowl set further in his face. “I want you to smarten the fuck up! I want you to stop bein’ a dumb bitch!”

You angrily wiped at the tear that fell down your cheek, and, for a brief moment, Benny’s eyes looked at you almost horrified at what was happening. Your face contorted with a frown, and you pushed him with all your strength, making him take a small step back to keep his balance.

Neither of you knew that Will was in the hallway watching this unfold, not sure how to intervene, and his focus was torn away from you both as Frankie walked into the hallway and stood next to Will, ready to jump in.

“What is your problem?!”, you screamed at him.

His menacing glare returned, and he stepped up to you, challenging you.

“My fuckin’ problem is you’re not thinkin’ with your goddamned brain!”, he bellowed. “My problem is you’re thinkin’ with your pussy like a fuckin’ whore- “

Before you could register your actions, your hand harshly made contact with his face; you slapped him hard.

The room fell silent, and Benny’s head snapped back to you, all fury gone. What was left was the look of hurt and disappointment, and you weren’t sure who it was directed at – you or himself. Will rushed in and grabbed Benny, hauling him back. Benny’s eyes didn’t leave yours until Will had dragged him out of the room, cursing at him for his temper.

And once again, you were alone. Your chin quivered and your body trembled as the rage dissipated from your system, replaced with shame and remorse. What did you do?

Before you could collapse under the weight of your actions, Frankie stepped into the doorway.

You raised your eyes to him and held back a sob as you shook your head, silently saying please – I can’t handle any more.

“Baby girl...”, he spoke softly as he walked slowly towards you and pulled you into his arms. You tried pushing him back, but he gently used his strength against you, holding you in his embrace. His gentleness after the harsh intensity of what you’d just experienced with Benny broke you, and you let out a heavy sob that wracked your body. His large hand held your head against his chest and he murmured softly, trying to soothe you.

“I’m so sorry, baby girl... come on, Honey... calm down... he’s gone... I know, baby... I know... he’s gone now... I’m sorry... he doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground, baby... he doesn’t know what he's talkin’ about...”

“Stop... just stop!”, you squirmed out of his hold and stood back from him. You furiously wiped your face again and shook your head. “He’s right! He’s right about everyth - “

“No, baby girl... no, he’s not!”, Frankie pleaded, holding his hand out to you, beckoning you to come to him.

It made you angrier, his actions seemingly still trying to train you to be his good little bitch, coming when he calls. You shook your head, rage taking over. “I’m not a fucking dog! You don’t order me around like one!”

His voice was so soft. “Baby... Honey, please...”

“No! Mr. fucking Morales! He’s right - I’m just another one of your dumb whores that you can throw away! I’m no better than that bitch you had on your lap at the bowling alley! You just keep me like a pet and bring me out when you need a fuckin’ fix! You don’t want me - no one does!”

You didn’t realize you were screaming at him and walking towards him.  Frankie’s hands were held up, trying to calm you. His eyes were wide and pleading, his mouth was open and frowning, as he shook his head.

“Baby girl… shhhhh… no… no, Honey…”, he shook his head, and cooed, moving towards you again. “No, Honey… you got it all wrong…”

“Don’t…”, you warned as you stepped back, glaring up at him. To Frankie, you must have looked like a cornered, feral cat, fueled by rage and fear.

You didn’t intimidate him. He reached out and cupped your cheek, as he’d done countless times before, but this time you pulled out of his grasp.

You didn’t scare him. But he needed your softness back; this harsh and jaded version of you hurt him in ways he didn’t know he could be wounded. His heart ached as his other arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into him again. He smoothed his hand over your jaw, his thumb gently caressing your lips. You tried, albeit half-heartedly, to get away, but he saw the softness slipping back into your eyes.

You didn’t deter him. “Don’t push me away, baby girl…”, he said softly, bringing his face close. He ghosted his lips over yours. “I want you here… with me.”

He pressed his lips gently against yours. Your resolve to fight dissolved and you wrapped your arms around his neck, grasping for more contact with him. Opening your mouth to deepen the kiss, he followed suit, slipping his tongue against yours. You were both desperate. Yes, you’d fooled around in a bowling alley, but this was something that wasn’t scratching an itch or a power play; this was the two of you finally, without words, admitting that you needed one another on a baser, more human level.

Frankie pulled back first, breathing heavily and his eyes scanned yours, asking silently for more. You nodded, and with that, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of your room and into his.

*****

After his run in with Benny and making sure his windpipe wasn’t crushed, Pope was back outside around the building in an alleyway. Hidden in the shadows, the only sign of his presence was his phone screen lighting up his face.

As he searched through images confirming Steven’s demise, a call came through. He answered it quietly, keeping his voice low but harsh.

“I need more time - … no, you don’t understand, he - ... I know that was the deal, but you gotta hear me out- … I can’t just… I know it has to look like an accide-… I tried! The fuckin’ little brother… Yeah… fuck, no… No… I know, but I ca-… fuck. Okay… I understand… Yes! Fuck! I got it!”

Will watched from the far end of the building. Pope’s voice, although quiet, carried, and Will’s mind raced, putting piece by piece together, not quite being able to wrap his mind around what he was hearing. He didn’t know what he was up to, but he knew he didn’t like it.

He watched as Pope hung up and stopped himself from throwing his phone against the wall, and he clenched his fists and teeth. Will moved on his feet, causing the gravel to shift and crunch under him.

“What do you want, Will?”

He stopped, feeling his body tense at Pope’s recognizing his presence, even in the dark.

“Who you talkin’ to, man?”, he asked. Will tried to keep no discernable emotion or feeling in his tone, trying to keep Pope off his anxious scent.

“No one… one of the grunts fucked up… just tryin’ to set them straight.”

Will hmm’d in acknowledgement; he knew it was a lie and he knew Pope wouldn’t be convinced that he believed him, but he knew saying anything more would probably drive more suspicion.

“I’ll ask again, Will… what do you want?”

Will moved closer to Pope, trying to keep his voice down when he spoke.

“You gotta stop rilin’ Benny up. I know you think it’s funny, but he’s gonna really fuck someone up and we don’t need that.”

“Fuck you, Will… what are you, his keeper? His fuckin’ nanny?”

“I’m the last thing keepin’ him from killin’ someone… If wasn’t there tonight, you think you would’a made it?”

“So, what you’re saying its you’re the one keeping a leash on him?”

Even in the dark, Will knew Pope was facing him. He could feel the breath on his face. He was close – too close.

“If you weren’t around, no one could stop him?”

“Jesus, man… You know he’s got a fuckin’ temper... he needs someone to hold him back.”

“Yeah, he does have a temper.”

“Then stop pushin’ him! Stop antagonizin’ him!”, Will pleaded. He heard Pope huff a laugh.

“You’re in his fucking way, Will.”

Will heard the smile in Pope’s voice, and his blood ran cold.

“The fuck is that supposed’ta mean?”

Pope got close to Will and grabbed the back of his neck and held his face to his.

“You’re in my fucking way.”

Will felt a sharp sting in his stomach, and then warmth. Wet, hot warmth on the skin of his abdomen. The sharp sting erupted into searing pain, and he sucked in a ragged breath as his head spun.

“Santi… wha- don’t….”

“Fuck you, Will.”, Pope huskily whispered, ripping the knife out of Will’s gut. “This is on you. You wouldn’t let him just...”

“San-Santi? Pope? … why?” Will gasped, stepping back and clutching his middle. He stared up at Pope, wide eyed and trembling as he fell against the wall behind him and slid down to the ground. A tear slipped down his face as he watched his friend – his murderer – turn and walk away, leaving him alone in the alley to slip away into the inky darkness.

--------<3---------

TAGLIST:

@theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @blackfemalenerd @toxicanonymity @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal @gwendibleywrites @romanarose

[mysticstarlightduck]

Heads Up Seven Up

Thanks for the tag @saturnine-saturneight (here)! It's way more than seven lines, but I wanted an excuse to share this snippet so here it goes!!!!

"I despise you." Kye snaps, teeth chattering in the biting cold. He was sitting further into the cave, huddled with his knees to his chest and face scrunched up like a kid about to throw a tantrum.

Artemis huffs, his breath coming out like a tuft of white smoke in the dry, frigid air "You know what?! The feeling is fucking mutual. Maybe if someone" He gives the alien a pointed look, crossing his arms over his chest "Hadn't sold me and my crew out to those raiders, we wouldn't have crashed here, now would we?"

The other rolled his eyes, "Ugh, for Thuvar's sake, human. Do you think any of my plans included spending an unforeseen amount of time in this frozen shithole? Besides," Kye looks away, staring at the graphite grey cave wall "I wasn't the one who sold you out. At least not this time. I backed out of the Syndicate's deal - don't ask me why. I don't know. A momentary moment of morality and it got me stuck here with you of all people," He laughs, bitter "I guess I should've taken the deal. It seems those raiders simply weren't stupid like I was and went ahead with it. And now I've gotta freeze to death here with a starsdamned space-outlaw-goth-wannabe."

Artemis flips him off with a scowl, glaring at the sharp sleet storm in the wind outside, "You are just the same sorry candy-ass as you were all those years ago, and I don't know why the fuck Jack keeps you in the crew."

Kye shrugs, with a sharp grin "Apparently your leader is a man who recognizes talent when he sees some."

"I'm not even going to answer that one."

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@leave-her-a-tome, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star

@ominous-feychild, @anyablackwood @amaiguri

@finickyfelix, @elshells, @thecomfywriter & OPEN TAG

[swordfright]

oh god uh okay. jesus christ here we go. sigrid is c!dream's daughter from one of the alternate (i.e. bad) endings of ouroboros. sam thinks he's her father but neither of them is quite sure because, well. she doesn't look like sam. she looks like this...

there's no deep dark biome on the server, so nobody has ever seen a warden before. they literally do not know what the fuck she is or how to care for her. luckily, dream manages to escape the torment labyrinth when sigrid is a toddler. he takes her directly to phil because phil is like, old as balls. surely this old man knows something about this species, right? wrong.

raising her is challenging. she's completely blind, so she needs help to get around (good thing techno has not one, not two, but two-dozen dogs that can be trained as service animals.) they also discover, when she's around nine or so, that her screams can inflict serious damage on anyone within hearing distance. doomsday trio do their best, and she gets...some semblance of a normal childhood. normal by dsmp standards, anyway.

after their escape, when sigrid's still little, dream meets up with punz again and they continue to pursue their research together. dream leaves for days at a time, then weeks, then months, returning to the arctic less and less frequently. in his defense, it's not his fault he never wanted a kid. he's also got a pretty intense complex around not being seen with her, since he knows any association with him puts sigrid in danger. what ends up happening is that she basically gets raised by c!emeralds. her personality is much closer to techno's than dream's.

needless to say, she and dream have a complicated relationship. i've got about 15k words of him teaching her necromancy collecting dust in my drafts lmao

one of her Big Things is that she gets lonelier as she grows up and realizes there isn't anyone her age around to play with. the closest she's got to a friend is michael, who's a couple years older and has been inducted as a Real Syndicate Member (this is the ouroboros timeline, so sam never killed ranboo.) this leads to her rebellious phase, which involves a lot of exploring outside the perimeter of the arctic with her dogs. she eventually befriends another little girl who's in a similar boat (there are hardly any kids on the server! just boring grown-ups! it's not fair!) and the two of them meet up in secret to go on stupid dangerous adventures. phil and techno never see this other kid and are fully convinced that sigrid made up an imaginary friend to play with. in reality, the other kid is quackity's daughter. so uh. yes, this situation does eventually blow up in everyone's faces.

i'm gonna cut this off here sdfghgfd thanks for taking an interest tho!! i have a backlog of sigrid drawings, maybe i'll be brave and post more of them someday...

[riaarivic]

HATE 11: DAECHWITA (M) I MYG x F!reader

🌙 Pairings YoongixReader

🌙 Genres Mafia!AU, Smut, Angst, Action, Thriller, Enemies to lovers

🌙 Rating 18+ minors DNI

🌙 Summary  You were an INTERPOL Agent assigned to infiltrate the depths of the most powerful Gang in South Korea: The Seven Moons. Your objective: to impersonate the daughter of one of their leaders and destroy the operation from within. That is, if they don't discover you first.

And Traitors won’t have the mercy of a quick death

🌙 PLEASE READ Warnings For this chapter: This chapter has mentions of self harm, mental illness, human trafficking and torture. I want to clarify that there is no SA in this story at all and it won't be. But as I always say This is a mafia au, and organized crime is not all handsome boys and nice cars. This chapter and the next one are DARK.

So, if any of this triggers you, see you on chapter 12. Don't worry, you'll still understand the story. But no, this is not a filler chapter.

🌙 A/N At no time do I (the author) encourage this activity in real life, it is important that you know that the criminal acts in this book are that, a crime, as well as harmful to health and should not be romanticized. This is all a work of fiction for entertainment purposes.

Love, Ria

🌙 Chapter wordcount 5k (the longest one yet)

🌙 Series Index

1  2 3 4  5 6 7 8 9 10 11

HATE 11: DAECHWITA

I got lots to lose

Shove the past into a rice chest

I'm about to dine on what I know is mine

Tap...

Tap...

Tap...

You were jolted awake by the water dripping from the leak above you, your head still foggy from the drugs they had given you.

The sound of voices outside the door caught your attention. 

Although your knowledge of Wu was limited, you managed to pick out the words "merchandise" and "not her."

A million things rushed in your imagination.

If you weren't so weak you would laugh as you recalled your last conversation with Emmet, your partner, the night before leaving. 

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

"The Seven Moons clan only deals in guns and drugs. Their leader thinks human trafficking is beneath them." The irony of a criminal mastermind with 'ethics' was not lost on you. 

“But they have the angels” you questioned, confused. 

“The angels are to the Seven Moons, what you are to INTERPOL: Employees. They are free to leave when they want. Park Jimin values loyalty over fear.” He explained to you. 

Emmet, you truly hated that bastard. 

But now laying down on a mattress probably dirtier than the floor below it, you wondered if you will ever see him again.

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

You heard the voices outside getting closer to the room you were in. The door opened to reveal three men all dressed in black, with no visible clan tattoos. 

They lifted your body, moving you up to a set of stairs. 

You started to feel tired again. 

The clouds of drug infused sleep started to blur your brain and vision. 

The last thing you saw was a room you passed. 

A pair of terrified eyes looked right back at you. 

They looked young. 

Too young to be trapped in this hell. 

Your vision went dark again. 

And you were dreaming.

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

You gazed at the full moon glowing ominously behind the high walls of the family compound. Kim Dohan was hosting a lavish party tonight, no doubt greasing the palms and egos of politicians and police officials alike.

Then there were you to the untrained eye you were just a snob heiress who wouldn’t be bothered with the clansmen’s business. But you were watching everything on a far corner, collecting information, names, counting bodyguards and every other piece of intel that you will later report to your team. 

A rustle in the bushes behind you caught your attention. You smiled, recognizing the familiar footsteps. "You know, for a crime syndicate that prides itself on secrecy and security, sneaking in and out of here is child's play, to you."

Suga emerged from the shadows, his usual smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "You seemed to be lost in thought. Anything I should know about?" He asked in a teasing tone.

You shook your head, allowing your  hair to curtain your face. "Just reflecting on your father's hypocrisy and wondering how a man so violently opposed to 'low people' businesses has no qualms about bribing and corrupting public officials."

Suga laughed, a rich throaty sound that made your heart skip a beat. "You know there's nothing my father hates more than irony and hypocrisy. If only he had your gift for seeing them so clearly, pretty flower"

Your breath caught at his last word. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, hiding in plain sight. But in moments like this, you couldn't help but wonder if Suga had already seen through your disguise. 

And if he had, what game was he playing? 

Because there’s one thing you had in common with every criminal in this room. 

You were a liar. 

To each and every person who was there. 

Starting with Suga, who was starting to warm up places in your heart you thought were forever frozen.

You had lied.

To everyone.

But especially to yourself. 

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

“Wake up, pretty girl! We have a special delivery just for you.”

You opened your eyes to the sound of the door bursting open and two men entering the room. 

The heavy footsteps of combat boots echoed in the room. The first man kneeled in front of you “The boss said to leave her face untouched” the man's husky voice spoke as he ran his hand over your cheek, you furrowed your eyebrows and pulled back “And rightly so, with a face like that. No wonder she has the two most powerful Moons right at her feet “.

You realized they were speaking Korean now.

The other man let out a sinister laugh “too bad we can’t have fun with her.” Your breath caught in your throat, you couldn't move and you were well aware you couldn’t defend yourself. Your heart was pounding as if it wanted to burst out of your chest and the blood felt frozen in your veins.

“Poor thing, she's terrified. I honestly thought that the fiancée of Kim DoHan's heir would put up a little more resistance.” The first man added clicking his tongue.

“Take off these ropes you have me tied up with and you'll see how I'll resist you, you fucking coward” Your own voice felt unknown, both men burst out laughing.

“I love it when they talk like that, don't you? Apparently Daddy's girl wasn't taught manners in private school”  the man slapped you in the face, leaving you completely stunned “What's the matter, don't you want to talk anymore?”

You spit out some blood “You're a dead man. Do you know what the price is for messing with the Seven Moons clan? They are going to find you and when he does… you're going to wish they gives you a quick death”

Now the other man kicked you, giving you a swift blow to the stomach. Making you feel all the air leave your lungs. Your eyes stung from tears wanting to fall.

“Oh, pretty girl. That's exactly what I want. The clan princess is in danger and her princes will come to the rescue... all the Moons in one place. That's extremely valuable, don't you think?” You were terrified. 

That’s what they wanted. 

You were the bait. 

And the Seven Moons were running directly to the trap. 

You felt stronger now, the effect of the drugs were wearing off. You knew you could take the first man’s gun and escape. Save yourself and save them. 

Them.

Suddenly the memory of the young pair of eyes you saw downstairs comes back to your mind. 

You couldn’t save them if you left. 

So you made your choice. 

You’ll stay, and hope you could stay alive at least long enough to save them. 

With a swift move you clashed your head into the second man's head. Leaving confused for a second. 

“That was a mistake, pretty girl.” the second man grabbed you by your hair  “I would tell you that this is going to hurt you more than me, but we both know it's a lie.” 

You felt a hit on your head and your vision went dark again. 

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

Suga strode into the dimly lit warehouse, his shoes clicking on the concrete floor. In the shadows, he spotted a familiar figure sitting calmly on a wooden crate, smoking a cigarette.

What once was one of the most beautiful faces of Korea. 

Now stared back at him scarred from the flames of the fire 20 years ago.

In all honesty, he never thought he would see his mother’s eyes ever again.

But here he was.

"If I knew it was going to be so easy finding you, I would have probably done it two decades ago," he said dryly “I wouldn't have tried the ouija board that time when I was 11” He was joking, but his words tasted like venom in his mouth.

His mother exhaled a plume of smoke. "You were not ready then." His mother didn't flinch. "I'm not so easy to find, my son," she replied, her voice soft and low. "You are here, because I let you find me."

"Where is she?" Suga demanded.

"Patience. I have raised you better than that." She rose and walked toward him, her heels echoing in the empty space. "Before I tell you, there are things you must know. Things about your father, things about…"

“I’m sorry to stop your bedtime story. But I have no time for a happy family reunion.” Suga’s jaw clenched. "I don't care about the past or dark family secrets. All I want is Nari."

“My son. Some secrets are worth dying for.” His mother sighed. "You arrogant boy. The secrets I hold are the only things keeping you and that girl alive." She flicked her cigarette to the floor and crushed it under her stiletto heel. “A war is coming. And it is time for you to rise and take your birth right.”

Suga felt like the ground had dropped out from under him. "What are you saying?"

“The Seven Moons Clan is yours to take.” she finally confessed. “and Kim Dohan will do everything in his power to keep you away from it. Like starting a clan war for the second time. But I won't make the same mistake twice, I will kill the devil himself.” 

“The Jade Dragon… is it you?” 

“Yes" Suga's blood froze in his veins, how much more did he not know "I am the one who sent those gifts to Kim Dohan. Using an old enemy rising from hell to scare him… and manipulate his son” 

“Why?” he felt the air leaving his lungs.”Why did you take her?”

“I didn’t. The Devil did. He’s moving his cards too, he wants to turn the streets of Seoul red with blood again.” She moved to be right in front of Suga raising her hand to caress his chin “The death of a princess is reason enough to start a war.” 

“I will kill him with my own bare hands first.” Suga said, eyes dark with hate. 

“That is exactly what he wants. Go save her. The Lilly is in an abandoned car factory just outside the city limits. The one that belonged to your grandfather” Pushing Suga towards the door “Go and come back, there is so much you need to know.”

He wasn’t listening anymore. 

The rush of blood pumping in his ears sounded like a thunderstorm inside him. 

Hell was about to break loose. 

And he would be the one to open the door. 

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

Your whole body ached and your cheeks were soaked with tears that kept falling.

Or was it blood on your face?

You closed your eyes and thought of home.

That beach in Busan.

And for a second, you no longer were in that room but in one of your few happy memories she had as a child with your parents.

You closed your eyes and remembered the waves.

You no longer knew if it had been hours or days, your consciousness came and went, you could hardly move and you could see hideous bruises all over your body. You were sure you had at least one broken rib because of how hard it was for you to breathe.

Out of nowhere there was a commotion on the other side of the door, screaming, banging and things falling everywhere.

But you were  too weak to get up to investigate.

Or care.

If they wanted to come and kill you, let them do it.

You could hear some gunshots in the distance, 

had they come looking for you?

Your answers came fast, when suddenly the door opened again.

Suga was standing in the doorway covered in blood and ashes from head to toe while holding a katana in his hand. Watching you in that state, The expression in his eyes went from surprise to immense sadness and then back to anger.

He dropped the sword and threw himself on the ground next to you, taking your face in his hands very carefully “Who did this to you?” Your panicked expression told Suga that you didn't recognize him.

He began to examine you realizing they had tortured you, bruising every inch of your body. And if he had not completely lost his sanity before, now he felt an almost animalistic fury, but he could not explode in front of you in that state “Nari, my Lily, listen to me. I am going to take you away from here. You are safe, I’m here now.” 

“The g-girl.” your voice cracked barely a whisper “downstairs” 

“Shh, pretty flower. You did well, they are safe too.” 

Jhope’s choked a scream when he arrived at the door and saw you. He could not believe what he was seeing. There wasn't an inch of your body that wasn't hurt, probably if Suga hadn't been with you Hoseok wouldn't have recognized you. 

“Take her home, Hoseok, right now!” Suga’s order sounded almost demonic. He got up, picked up the sword and left the room. He didn't want to leave you alone in that state but first, he had to make those responsible for hurting you pay.

He craved retribution.

In the only form of violence and blood.

His brothers stood at the door all with shocked and pained faces, none of them imagined they would find her in that state.

Jungkook felt his eyes water when he saw your figure being carried by JHope.

“Is she… alive?” Jimin stifled a scream by holding his hand to his mouth. He had never seen someone so badly hurt... much less a woman.

“Barely,” Jhope whispered.

Jin ran to help his brother so he could get you out of the place. Even Taehyung had both fists clenched from the rage he felt as he watched you pass by.

Namjoon fell wordlessly to the ground on his knees, he could never look at you in the face again.

Guilt wasn’t enough. 

This had gotten out of hand, he knew when the leader of the triads had called him to tell him that the van you were in had been intercepted.

This had not been his doing.

But it was Namjoon's responsibility.

“I want you to know that when I'm done here I'm going to come after you and I'm going to make you take every hit and every wound she has”  Suga spat at Namjoon, voice filled with venom. 

“You are the only one responsible for all this and even if I can't kill you, your biggest punishment will be to see her face and have to carry what you did to her... for the rest of your life.” Suga walked away towards the upstairs where the Clan’s men had captured the people inside.

Later, he would deal with Namjoon.

He had more important things to take care of now.

Suga hadn't earned the nickname Monster just because he had a scar over his eye.

Even if he had shown you the gentle side of his soul.

The monster really existed, it was part of him whether he wanted it or not and tonight he was thirsty for revenge.

He was thirsty for blood.

And nothing was going to stop him until he got it.

The smell of gasoline, fear and burnt bodies permeated the air.

Suga circled the two men tied to chairs like a shark sensing blood in the water. Behind him, Jhope leaned against the wall, rolling his eyes at the pathetic display.

“I’m going to ask you nicely one more time,” Suga said softly. “Who do you work for?”

The men kept their lips stubbornly sealed, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Have it your way.” Suga snapped his fingers. Two of his men stepped forward and pressed lit cigarettes into the men’s skin. A sickening sizzle filled the room, accompanied by howls of pain.

Jhope’s face twisted in disgust, he surely hated this part of the job. “Looks like pain is not going to break these pieces of trash.”

“You’re right,” Suga agreed. “I’m glad we kept some of the shit they were giving Nari. Maybe a little bit of their medicine would make them talk to us”

After a few more minutes of ‘persuasion,’ the younger man broke down into sobs. “We were just shipping merchandise when the boss told us to grab the girl! We swear we know nothing else!”

Suga crouched in front of him, his handsome face transformed into a demonic mask. “Merchandise? You refer to human beings as merchandise? You fucking bastard” His hand shot out and gripped the man’s crotch, twisting cruelly. The man screamed.

“We're going to die anyway!” the other man shrieked. “The Devil...he wants you dead. He's planning to kill your brothers and take control of the whole territory. He says you're a threat to his power, the true heir..." His words dissolved into whimpers as Suga's gaze turned molten.

“Our father wants to kill us?”  J Hope scoffed. "As if we haven’t heard that one before." He examined his nails. "Are you done lying?"

Suga straightened, his expression granite. "He 's not liying." 

“What do you mean he’s not lying, hyung?” Jhope’s expression changed completely as he felt his heart dropping to his stomach. 

“I’m saying that our father wants to kill us.” The older man responded face dark and devoid of any emotion “Come with me hope-ah. I need you to meet my mother.” 

“Please, tell me you are not dragging me again to play Ouija with you” 

“She’s alive, you asshat.” Suga answered leaving Jhope completely dumbfounded. 

“Somehow that feels worse.” Jhope followed his brother. His men dragged the two prisoners out the back. Seconds later, the flames finished their job erasing any evidence of what happened that night.

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

Seven Moons Mansion, outskirts of Seoul, South Korea.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Drops of water fell from the shower and filled the bathtub. 

But you couldn't hear any of it.

You weren't sure how many pills you had taken today, but they hadn't been enough to even slightly ease the pain you still felt throughout your body.

But they had been enough to disconnect your mind from the place where you were.

In your mind, you were on the beach of your memories.

The soft waves broke under your feet, far away was the storm that had taken everything in its path. On that beach there was no pain, no war, no missions, no clans, no .....

You  couldn't even think about that.

You had used that beach as an escape route several times. You would close your eyes for a second on the battlefield before leaving to calm your nerves and imagine the waves and the sand.

That way it was easier to forget that she had an assault rifle in your hands and that you had to defend herself against enemies in a war. 

Soldiers don't ask questions...

You hated criminals and murderers with every fiber of your being. But hadn't four years in the army turned you into one too? No matter if you had killed in the name of justice, your hands were also full of blood.

Soldiers who killed others in the name of their country were given a medal on their chest and called heroes.

It's a little late to regret it when you have a rifle in your hand and you're being shot at.

You sank a little deeper into the waters of the beach. 

Looking up and the sky, it was no longer completely blue, you could hear the thunder of an approaching storm.

Or was it gunshots?

“Park, open your eyes dammit! We are under attack. Call for reinforcements, we must get out of here.” The voice of her squadron captain brought you out of your thoughts, you were in the middle of an ambush. It had all happened so fast, you had entered an abandoned warehouse to release a group of civilians who had been kidnapped by terrorists.

It ended up being a trap...

A fragmented grenade came through one of the windows and the explosion was so loud that you almost lost consciousness. But you were able to drag your team members under some debris to protect you and them.

You didn't know who fired first, but at the end of the day Y/n Park had been decorated by her officers with a purple heart, for saving her entire unit.

For annihilating the enemy.

You dunked your head in the water on the beach. 

Calm, that was what you needed to ease your pain.

A little calm...

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The water in the tub had begun to overflow and was pouring out the bathroom door.

The mixture of the drugs in your blood and the tiredness you felt throughout your body caused you to begin to fall asleep. You did not feel when your lungs began to burn from lack of oxygen, nor did you hear when they broke down the door to get you out.

Arms pulled you out of the water and you felt a body collide against a chest sitting on the floor.

“Nari, hey, Lee Nari. Wake up please don't do this to me.”  a desperate voice was trying to bring her back to consciousness, but she didn't want to go back “How many pills did you take? Hope, tell me what’s this shit is and how do we get it out of her system, Fucking hurry!”

The voices sounded like distant echoes to you, you closed your eyes again and now yo were in another place.

The echo of a leak and the smell of dampness made her recognize the place.

Footsteps.

Punches.

A pair of eyes.

You couldn't defend Yourself, you didn't want to, 

If you resisted they would save them too. 

So you left to your beach.

Everything was going to be allright...

Right?

You just had to stop swimming.

The storm had arrived and the shadow of a dragon could be seen in the clouds through the moonlight.

The Moons.

Yoongi.

Had he found you?

The image of a bloody man with a sword in his hand flashed through your mind. But that couldn't be Yoongi, could it?

No, that person was a monster.

But wasn't she too?

You felt a sharp pain in your chest and a strong heat spreading through your veins, flames coursing through your whole body forcing you to wake up, bringing you back to reality.

You didn't want to, but you opened your eyes again and you were no longer on her beach. You were in your room in the Seven Moons  mansion, surrounded by the worried and anguished faces of all their young leaders.

All but one; Namjoon wasn’t there.

Suga hugged you tightly again terrified that if he let you go you would leave again “Shit Nari, don't ever, ever, ever do something stupid like that again. We almost lost you..”

Almost. 

You weren’t sure of that.

“Let me go. I can’t breathe” Your voice sounded hoarse in your throat, the curious eyes with which you looked at Suga were now devoid of any emotion. 

As empty as you felt. 

The man straightened his posture “All right, I’ll let you go. But you are going to listen to me now, you are going to eat, you are going to leave the IV on and you are not going to leave this room, if you want to go to the bathroom one of us will accompany you, understood?”

“I didn't know I was a prisoner now." you said expressionless. 

They had broken you, that could be seen for miles, they had damaged you beyond repair.

They had broken your being and lost the pieces along the way.

And Suga knew he couldn't repair the damage they had done.

But fuck him, he was going to try.

“Damn it Nari, you almost killed yourself in there! I understand, I understand you. I know how much it hurts and I would like to do something to help you but this is not the way. Taking a cocktail of sedatives strong enough to put a fucking horse to sleep for two weeks... is not the answer” his voice cracked at the last part “They're dead Nari, all of them. They're never going to hurt you again. I swear on my life.”

“Your life will be too short then…” you said “You keep calling me by my name, you've never called me by my name before, should I call you by yours?”  the man made a pained expression at her words and pulled back a little.

He needed some breathing space too. He knew what they had done to you was going to change you, he knew how deeply they had hurt you and even after a week had passed back in the house, he knew that time was not enough.

But seeing you like that, the guilt, suffocated him completely.

“You're right, you're my Lily and you're going to let me take care of you, whether you like it or not. So leave the damn IV on and then go eat” He got up from the bed and left the room but not before ordering the youngest of his brothers not to leave your room for anything in the world.

He also told him that he would cut off his balls and make a pearl necklace out of them if he left you alone for a single second.

But you didn't have to listen to that.

Message received 3:30AM: Unknown

Agent y/n, contact me immediately.

The mission has been breached.

Your identity is compromissed.

Someone has betrayed us.

Message deleted 3:31AM

Oh fuck.

🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙 

Well hello,

This chapter... How can I begin. I love this chapter but I know its dark, i want to clarify to you, reader, that even if torture was mentioned (a few times now) there is absolutely no metion of sa.

I've been reading and rewriting this chapter because I honestly don't want anyone feeling uncomfortable or offended. At the end of the day we're all here for entertainment, release and fun.

But this chapter is pivotal for the climax of the story, yes we are getting close to it. And yes, this story is dark.

Some things I want to clarify: First: Reader character served in the Marines before being an INTERPOL agent. It is mentioned in chapter two.

Nari means lily in korean. When I write Nari I mean the reader's code name and when I write Lily i mean the flower. Take note of this.... this will be important later 👀

I'm sorry I took so long.

It's been a month..... and yeah 💀

Thank you so much for showing love to this story, writing is my release and it makes me so happy to see other people enjoying what I write. Love you all,

Ria

Tag List @drunkzseok@allamericanuniverse@catlove83@baby-cherry@officialholyagua @goldendenstudies @kristelll-inluv

If you want to join the tag list. You can coment this post or send me an ask!

[xerith-42]

Imagining Dream trying (and failing) to be the local cryptid in the Syndicate Forest. He thinks he's so mysterious and cool until Techno hits him with a casual "Hulloooo" every morning. He'll try to make his presence barely known to Phil only to look down at his feet and find an entire gift basket from the bird man. Even Niki tosses warm things at him every time she sees him because she's worried he'll freeze to death sleeping outside. He doesn't because Kristen helped him build a home for himself in what he thought was a dream but clearly wasn't because that home still exists. He could easily crash on anyone's couch for a night during a blizzard and they wouldn't bat an eye. He's just. Around.

[canines-alter-creation]

can we have an dsmp subsystem? You can choose all the characters ^_^

HII! So Sorry this took us AGES and AGES we just needed some time with it! But I present to you: The Syndicate subsystem!!

There's a few collective faceclaims of them, I hope that's alright!

> Name(s): Technoblade, Techno, Blade, Emery, Emory, King, Kinge, Singe, Dagger, Protesilaus

> Pronoun(s): he/it/stab/blood/red/singe/wrathe/fire/arson

> Age: Ageless, Adult presenting, maybe early 20s

> Gender: genderbloodstained, bloodgender, torngender, killic, rabidpredator, axegender

> Sexuality: aro/ace sex and romance repulsed, but has a sort of queer-platonic relationship with Phil

> Role: Internal Anarchist

> Source: Syndicate, Dsmp

> Sign-offs: 🗡️,⚔️,🧨,🩸,👑, 🐗,🐷,🐽

> Front triggers(pos/neg/neu):

Primarily an internal alter, meant to cause anarchy throughout the system, but may be front triggered by source or actual depictions of anarchy. May also be fronted by punk things. 

> Likes/dislikes:

+ Justice, Anarchy, 

- order, monarchies, dictatorships, other forms of ruling classes, people who are controlling over other alters to make them “good”

> Personality: Protesilaus is a leader, blood started this Syndicate with Philza, and is good at keeping everything together. He doesn’t consider himself the elected leader of the Syndicate, as he views all of them as equal and works with ALL of them to create what they’ve always dreamed of. He’s a good leader, confident, but kind. Blood works well alongside everyone, and has formed close bonds with them all. 

> Ways they do their role: it will do anything to keep innerworld peaceful and safe, and that means breaking up and destroying any form of government. Blade hates anyone who tries to enforce power over him. They will take down anyone who swears themselves to a hierarchy, either through overthrowing them, or some other show of force. Blood may send in someone else first to talk to them but if they won’t step down peacefully then he will handle it personally. 

> Inner world occupation or behavior: He may prefer to spend time exclusively with the rest of the syndicate. May not like being alone because that makes the voices worse. May have a study or meeting room where they all meet together frequently, 

> Possible outerworld behavior: May not be much of an external alter, but if they are fronting or seen externally, may prefer to be outside, and away from people in general. May clash with authority figures. 

------

> Name(s): Ranboo, Boo, Lethe, Memory, Amnesia, Ender, Solstice, Eclipse

> Pronoun(s): he/fog/they/white/black/end/void

> Age: 17-19ish

> Gender: endergender, comfnoctic, everspiral, all the genders, just. All of em (/hj)

> Sexuality: GAYYYY gay boy, we got a gay boy here he’s gay as hell, gay gay gay

> Role: Memory holder

> Source: Syndicate, Dsmp

> Sign-offs: 💜, 🟣, 🖤, ❤️💚, ⬛⬜, ◼️◻️, ◾◽, ▪️▫️, 

> Front triggers(pos/neg/neu):

Lethe may not have very many positive or neu triggers, and may only come near front to collect memories, either negative ones to protect the system, or just ones that it likes. Lethe may keep a journal, and may front most often while the body is sleeping. 

> Likes/dislikes:

+ Having memories, collecting memories, knowing what’s going on, daydreaming

- Having memories taken from it, being told not to take a memory, being left behind or alone for too long, forgetting. 

> Personality: Lethe may be very quiet, almost shadowlike. You may not even realize that voi was in the room until you feel your memories slip away. Outside of their role, Ranboo is a good friend, and interesting to talk to. They have a great sense of humor, and are deeply loyal to those they consider close to them. 

> Ways they do their role: His job primarily centers around remembering things and helping others remember things, he may also do the opposite, stealing memories that others don’t need to remember and hoarding them to voidself. This can either be a protective measure to limit traumatic reactions, or an unconscious desire to have the most memories. 

> Inner world occupation or behavior: May spend most of their time with their friends or alone, doesn’t like new people, doesn’t like strangers. Likes to lurk in the shadows unseen. Prefers to be ignored or to go unnoticed. May have a private place where they store their collection of memories

> Possible outerworld behavior: May be quiet and keeps to themselves, doesn’t like to be interacted with. May ignore friends or loved ones as a preference to be more alone. May spend a lot of time in front daydreaming, due to being overloaded with memories. 

------

> Name(s): Philza, Phil, Zephyrus, Crow, Flight

> Pronoun(s): he/crow/feather/flap/fly/flight/bird/beak

> Age: ageless, very old entity but presents about late 20s early 30s

> Gender: avianic, crowgender, corvidgender

> Sexuality: Bisexual? Primarily straight but has a qp relationship with Techno

> Role: Host

> Source: Syndicate, Dsmp

> Sign-offs: 🕊️, 🐦‍⬛, 🪶,  🛡️

> Front triggers(pos/neg/neu):

+ heights, rollarcoasters, crows or birds in general, specific sourcemates

/ his job, people messing with Techno, people needing someone to step in and be a better fronter

- Being comapred to source, being called a bad father, Tommy’s in danger, his subsystem members in danger

> Likes/dislikes:

+ heights, feeling like flying (driving fast, rollarcoasters etc), fronting and handling situations

- people who treat him like he’s below them, people that hold him to source, being underground, feeling trapped

> Personality: Philza is a kind man, but not one to be trifled with. He likes showing kindness, he likes caring about people, he likes being there. That doesn’t mean you should take advantage of flaps kindness. If you step to Phil, don’t expect crow to back down, they aren’t afraid of you, and they aren’t easily cowed. He isn’t going to walk away from a challenge, especially one made just to prove a point

> Ways they do their role: Phil is the host of this subsystem, and therefore fronts the most, he’s the front facing of the Syndicate, the point of communication between them and the rest of the system. Phil will do anything to protect flaps sysmembers. 

> Inner world occupation or behavior: May prefer somewhere with some open space, he has wings and likes to fly. The meeting room of the Syndicate may have open ceilings or a large sun window so that he is able to fly around comfortably and appropriately. 

> Possible outerworld behavior: may be somewhat paternal, very kind. Flap might lecture your friends on taking care of themselves and making sure they spend adequate time meeting their own needs. May prefer being offline and out in nature. 

---------

> Name(s): Niki, Nikita, Vivica, Nemesis

> Pronoun(s): she/blood/maim/kill/hurt/cake/sweet/fruit/bread/dough/bake

> Age: early 20s, 22 ish

> Gender: pastromic, softpancakic, muffingender, pumpkinpimcgender, groggymorningic, bloodgender, bloodangelic, rosegore

> Sexuality: bisexual, fem preference

> Role: Soother

> Source: Syndicate, Dsmp

> Sign-offs: 🍰, 🎂, 🍒, 🍓, 🥧, 🩹, 🏥, 🩷, 🗡️

> Front triggers(pos/neg/neu):

+ baking especially sweet treats, loves source, enjoys talking to and interacting with Puffys and may have a maternal relationship to Fundy’s

/ Her job, people needing soothing, her subsystem members, depictions of the syndicate

- her friends and loved ones being hurt, burnt food or baking going poorly

> Likes/dislikes:

+ the holidays, baking, gingerbread, sweets, taking care of people

- getting hurt herself, her food turning out poorly

> Personality: Niki is very kind, at least to those she deems deserves it. Niki is a soother, and takes care of doughs sysmates. That doesn’t mean it likes or cares for everyone, just particular people that matter to fluff. If you get in between Nemesis and her family, fruit will not hesitate to destroy anyone and anything that stands in the way. Though soft voiced and kind-hearted, Niki has beaten even Techno in battle, pies not afraid to beat you too. 

> Ways they do their role: Niki is a sort of healer, primarily working in fixing up any damages that come to her family, and then hunting down however did it and beating the shit out of them. Niki may like to make healing potion infused food in the innerworld. 

> Inner world occupation or behavior: May own a bakery or other place to do cooking, prefers to work there during the day or during their downtime. They may sell these baked goods in inner, and in fact, the back end of the bakery may be like a portal leading into the syndicate hideout. 

> Possible outerworld behavior: May like cooking and baking, and because of that, may LOVE the holidays. (especially if you have trauma surrounding it, fruit may front for the holidays and make them easier).