#sorry for this. i can just feel the rope of debt tightening around my neck.

[miraitrunks]

Hello all. I don’t think anyone would want to do this, but I am out of options for myself as multiple sources threaten increasing fees and shut-offs on me. I can’t afford to pay for important things like my phone bill and to keep the bank from taking what little money I have to my name (about $40) because I don’t have enough money in my account.

No matter how much you can give, I will accept anything graciously. Any support at all would mean the world for me, as I am terrified of owing these things money and not having access to essential things like cell service while I’m in the vital transitional period of finally having employment. I’ve stretched myself far and thin since being laid off without warning from my job back in March, avoiding taking care of my personal needs such as hygiene, medical attention and feeding myself. All to make the money I had left last for a little longer.

I made a commission post here—

—exclusively for the sole reason of dealing with financial instability in my near (now present) future. In that time, I have received one single commission, and it is not enough to keep me afloat by any means.

If you are uneasy about donating money by itself, then please consider reaching out to me about my artwork instead. I’d be more than happy to work on something for you in exchange for payment I so desperately need.

If you can’t donate, please reblog this post and/or my aforementioned commission post so others can see it.

Alternative places you can help support me are linked here at paypal, cashapp, venmo, or ko-fi. Just keep in mind that ko-fi’s transfer to paypal takes a fee so please donate directly if you can. Thank you for your time.

157.22/1,000

[necros-writing-stuff]

I'm simping hard for Mason and Bailey, so could we get mutual non-con with them? Also maybe with the person forcing the non-con degrading m!Mason and or m!Bailey about forcing them breed f!pc?

Like maybe Leighton wants to watch the hot swim teacher pipe that pretty little thing that wont let him photograph their gentiles, so he threatens Mason's job if they dont fuck in the locker room so he can watch. He knows pc is Mason's favorite, that Mason might actually have caught feelings. He's seen them hanging out outside school.

Or for Bailey, it could be that someone was pissed they couldn't buy you since you were paying your dues, or maybe Bailey just didn't like their vibe. They hold pc and their pissed off caretaker at gun point and make them screw. Bonus on the forced breeding kink, since bailey def doesnt want kids, and I cant imagine any PC wanting to put another kid in his care.

Sorry for the long ask �� Your writing is so good and you capture the characters so, so well. It really gets my imagination going.

Dear gods anon this haunted me from the moment I read it you're so smart I love you.

NSFW below (tw for noncon, loss of virginity)

Bailey

Waking up tied to a chair and gagged isn't exactly how Bailey wants to start his weekend, but here he is.

It had been a simple task. Drop off some money at Quinn's office. That's all.

So when he'd been hit over the head and knocked out, it had been rather unexpected.

He can see a man in a tailored suit looking at him and he immediately recognises who it is.

The guy was with that drug gang Bailey had seen to a couple months ago. Saving you from them, his favourite pretty brat.

Trust you to get in drug trouble over a fucking maths competition.

"You're awake. Good. We can talk about how you owe me," the man says. Yeah cause Bailey could do a lot of talking right now.

The door opens, two henchmen dragging in a girl with a bag over her head.

Bailey knows it's you, can recognise your voice as you whimper in fear.

Someone that had been standing behind Bailey's chair comes forward and starts to pull the caretaker's pants down. He can't fight back, tensing his arms to check how tight the bindings are.

The person covers their hands in some weird clear slime they then proceed to rub on his freed cock. It's cold and tingles.

"This one's your most requested right? Always pays her debts though. It's cause she's a virgin isn't it?" The boss questions as whatever that salve was kicks in, stimulating Bailey till he's hard as a rock.

The bag is ripped from your head, your eyes scrunching up at the light. You look so scared and helpless.

"Well you're about to drive her value right down with your own cock, mate," the boss nods to his men and you're brought forwards, skirt of your school uniform ripped up and pantes cut off with a knife.

You start sobbing and begging as you're picked up and your pussy is angled so that they can push you onto Bailey's cock.

Bailey is still. Staring straight ahead, trying not to let the rage he feels show.

He shudders as your body is pushed onto his cock, having to admit its a nice tight fit. God you would have been worth so much.

You scream, pain from being taken for the first time with so little preparation adding to the stress of the whole situation.

The henchmen holding you lift and drop you onto your caretaker's length at a steady pace. You feel no pleasure in the situation, just deep sorrow and an itching need to run.

But you can only whine out "I'm sorry," to Bailey, unable to look at him in the eyes.

It feels good. You feel good - you feel wonderful and Bailey can't help it when his balls start to feel tighter.

Can't help it when a tingle grows up his spine.

Can't help his hips jolting up the tiniest bit to meet you, needing more friction so he can cum.

"Oh and one last thing. We injected the girl with some hormone treatment to make her more likely to get pregnant. Good luck selling a used up whore then," the boss finally interjects, but its too late.

Oh fuck no.

Bailey is already on the verge as the man speaks, ejaculated deep inside your pussy since the henchmen so kindly push you down when they notice his body spasm.

The men let you go, your arms coming to wrap around Bailey's shoulders as you cry into his neck.

"A few more rounds, I think. Let's get our money's worth," it's only now Bailey sees the camera pointed at the two of you.

"This time the girl will move herself," a gun is brought out and you wrap yourself tighter around Bailey's body, seeking comfort. You're still sat on his cock, that hasn't gotten soft even after his orgasm. Just what was that salve?

He's going to kill them when he gets out of this rope.

Mason

He can't belive he's doing this.

Can't believe he has your cunt in his mouth, tongue deep between the folds as he licks away.

He wishes it were under any other circumstances.

Leighton had always rubbed him the wrong way, but Mason loved swimming. Loved teaching, this was his perfect job.

And you were his perfect student.

So kind and understanding, so innocent compared to the horrors he dealt with most classes.

You'd been so shy when you'd caught him swimming naked, but had accepted it without judgement.

You had been lovely to talk to at the pond.

You clung to his hair so tightly as he ate you out, moans echoing through the locker room.

Leighton had threatened his job. Had told him he wanted a video of that good one getting ruined by a handsome man like Mason. Wanted to see the pretty thing impaled on his cock.

And it worked. The threat worked. But at least Mason was the one corrupting you, he reasoned. At least it was someone who genuinely cared for your wellbeing.

You were shaking like a leaf when he had explained the situation, looking between him and the headmaster, off the to the side holding a camera.

"If you don't do it, I'll send every university you apply to personal letters telling them what a whore you are," Leighton added, and you reluctantly let Mason strip your uniform and kiss up your thighs.

"She's wet enough," Leighton calls from behind the camera, admiting the flushed pink dusting your cheeks. Forced, yes, but your were enjoying this, weren't you? What a little harlot.

Mason frees his length from his swimming trunks, never having the chance to change from his last lesson.

Bending your legs up so they're pressed to your chest, he gently kisses your forehead.

"It's going to be okay," another kiss, "just breath nice and steady for me." It's the same soothing tone he used to teach you.

You take in a deep breath as Mason pushes himself in, inch by inch. Both of you try to ignore Leighton moving to get a better angle.

Soon enough, your teacher is balls deep inside of your virgin pussy, the two of you breathing raggedly while staring into each other's eyes.

You both look upset.

"Well fuck her then," the headmaster tuts, and Mason starts to thrust.

Your mouth falls open, an expression so lewd and lovely the teacher wishes he could have seen it in another situation.

Wishes he could have waited for your graduation and asked you out on a proper date.

Not lose himself in your cunt, on camera for the pervert blackmailing you both.

And he does lose himself, can't stop his hips from hammering away at the warm, tight, wet heat that sucks him in like it was made for him.

Mason can't last this long. He brings a hand to start rubbing circles around your clit, eliciting more moans and whimpers.

You're so pretty, so good for him.

"M-mason, sir," you yelp as he hits a nice spot, and his breath catches in his chest.

Leaning in, he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing.

Your walls tighten around his shaft, signifying your end coming soon and Mason increases the pressure on your clit.

You milk his cock so perfectly he cums right when you do, filling you up to the brim with seed and aware it was spilling onto the bench below.

He can't bring himself to let you go when he's done, has to keep you covered until Leighton puts that camera away.

"Excellent. Now, try to get used to each other, I won't be satisfied with only one tape."

[degenerate-yandere]

Yandere Kirishima x Reader - Reprimand

Unfortunately, I’m back! Hopefully I’ll get back into a more regular upload schedule from now on. Anyway, here’s part two to this! I know this isn’t great, but I needed to write something to get myself out of this rut. Also this is sort of a Christmas offering to @ikinabi​, if this pleases you then my life is fulfilled. Also I like yandere Kirishima apparently so I might just make this a series or something. Enjoy! xoxo

(Part 1)

TW: Sorta NSFW, yandere, blood, asphyxiation, physical abuse

“So pretty...” 

Your captor mumbled as calloused fingers combed through your locks. It was therapeutic to Eijirou; to tend to your hair every morning before the hero left for work. You were crushed against his firm torso, ensuring you couldn’t slip from his grasp. Your cries and pleas were met with dismissive hums, as he assured you again and again that ‘There’s no need to be scared, princess’. All he wanted was to take care of you, and for you to just let him. Crimson eyes gleamed with childlike anticipation as he twirled you toward the mirror. “What’dya think, babe? Do you like it?” His voice was dripping with excitement, craving your approval like a coveted drug. His efforts, despite being the product of his drowning adoration, did not produce a... refined result. It was established early during your captivity that submission was met with reward; a kiss to remove that damnable gag, an embrace to rid yourself of the burning ropes around your wrist. So you nodded, slowly and hesitantly as tears trickled down your cheeks. A grin, sharp and beaming, cut across his face. That love-drunk gaze, so maniacal in its infatuation, was enough to chill you to the core. It was a routine Eijirou was adamant on maintaining.

It soon proved to be his mistake. 

You stilled your breath in an attempt to make your fingers do the same. The hair-pin in each hand rattled against the lock. Just like they do in the movies, you told yourself over and over, hoping it would somehow cease the shaking of your fingers. Behind that reinforced window, was freedom. Kirishima was attending some mandatory gala event among his fellow heroes, giving you ample time to enact your escape, and the cover of night would prove useful against the subsequent man-hunt that would surely ensue after he found you missing. The promise of breathing air unpolluted by his musk or the intrusive scent of his cologne was utterly tantalizing. That hope, that dream, was made more tangible with each click and slide of the lock mechanism.

“C’mon...” You muttered, the tension against the pins mounting, threatening to snap as they inched further into the lock. Then, slicing through the silence, an almost deafening creak resounded.

The window didn’t budge. You struggled to breathe as it became clear - footsteps, pounding toward you. Trembling hands released their hold on the hair-pins, falling to the floor. It was hard not to scream in frustration, or breakdown in insurmountable terror. The door inched open, an exasperated sigh escaping your captor as he sauntered in. Each step toward you made you wince as they echoed throughout the room. You suppressed a shriek when strong arms coiled around your torso, his nose pressing against the base of your neck. Kirishima inhaled deeply - he had to get his fill after being apart from you for so long. He hummed, pressing his lips gently upon your skin.

“I missed you so much, princess. I wish you could’ve come with me.” He let out a tired chuckle as his chin rested upon your shoulder. “They don’t think you’re real, would you believe it? Saying shit like if you were really my girlfriend you’d be there with me.” A lingered kiss was placed upon your cheek. “But you are real-” Calloused fingertips explored your arms, shoulders, every piece of exposed skin he could relish in. The sound of his breath hitching, it’s warmth invading the nape of your neck, made your heart pound faster - he was getting excited, that much was certain.

“And you’re all mine.” He traced kisses across your neck, quietly reaffirming ‘mine’ between each affection. Gently, he gripped you by the waist and pulled you toward the bed. Slowly sitting himself upon the mattress, he pulled you atop his strong, muscular thighs. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding frantically. A deep hum resonated from his chest, digits lovingly raking through your hair.

Oh god, your hair. The accessories he’d so carefully placed were now strewn about the floor. Your thoughts grew panicked, nigh incomprehensible. He could notice, he would piece it together, if he found out he’d surely -

“Come on, (Y/n), talk to me.” His tongue clicked in his mouth, rough fingers gripping your chin and turning you to face him as carefully as he could. Seeing his face, his serene smile, was enough to make the words ball in your throat. Your lips quivered, his eyes beaming as he anticipated the sound of your angelic voice.

“I c-could’ve come with you, I-” A fervent kiss silenced you, his hand cupping your cheek to support the exchange. He pulled away, brows clearly furrowed. With a disheartening sigh, Kirishima shook his head.

“You know I can’t do that, babe.” His lips lunged to your neck, imprinting kisses against the tender flesh. “I want to, I really do. I want to show everyone how lucky I am,” His mouth shifted to your shoulder, your eyes widening as you felt his sharp teeth graze your skin. “I want everyone to know who you belong to.” With animalistic ferocity, he sunk his teeth into your flesh. You whimpered in pain, tears pricking your eyes as you felt blood seep from the wound. Kirishima was eager to lap up the warm substance, working and sucking against the imprint. A powerful arm wrapped around you, keeping you from flinching away as he properly marked you. You opted to squeeze your eyes shut; to pretend you were anywhere but here. A smirk pressed against your skin, a satisfied grunt erupting from the hero at your apparent complacency. “Such a good girl for me.”

His large hand rested against the back of your head, digits entangling with strands of your hair. You felt him pause, and you could swear your heart did the same. Had he noticed? You had to distract him, he couldn’t be allowed find out.

Against your better judgement, you shifted upon his lap until your body faced his. Hesitantly, your hands met his broad chest, inching toward the collar of his dress shirt. His mouth was slightly agape, his pupils dilated with a cocktail of surprise and excitement. Kirishima couldn’t believe what was happening, you were initiating it. Shaky fingers hooked against his tie, slowly working to undo the tight knot. You didn’t dare meet his gaze, terrified of glimpsing at the lust that swirled among the crimson. “B-babe? What are you doing?” His face flared with an impossible red, his pants growing tighter and more uncomfortable with each passing second.

“I-I want to be good for you, Ei-Eijirou.” You cursed at the transparent fraudulence of your words. Kirishima, however, was too euphoric to care. Unsatisfied with the clumsy pace of your digits, he violently yanked his tie away. He made quick work of his shirt buttons, exposing the powerful mass of muscle hidden beneath. His large hands gripped your wrists tightly, guiding your palms against his sculpted torso. He eased them across the rigid canyons of his abdomen, his blush darkening at your touch. 

“S-so strong...” You rest your palms against his defined chest, leaning into the crook of his neck. The scent of his expensive cologne is overbearing as you imprint a fleeting kiss upon his skin. You feel his heart thump, his breath growing more erratic and unrestrained.

“F-fuck, princess,” Eijirou grits his teeth as you gently knead his flesh, throwing his head back to allow you more leeway. “I-It’s all to protect you, so I can keep you safe.” His muscles tense, affirming the immense power they hold. You pause to breathe, to steady yourself. It’s hard not to feel disgusted, not when that prominent protrusion bucks roughly against you.

But Kirishima is impatient. In an instant, you’re thrown unto your back, Eijirou looming over you with your wrists pinned beside your head. Lips smash against your own, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He presses his powerful body atop yours, his deep rumbles of delight sending vibrations across your skin. Shark-like teeth sink into your lips, humming as he savors the delectable metallic taste. Your pained whimpers, your weak gasps for air, they’re all so adorable. His fingers intertwine with your locks, pulling slightly to allow his tongue greater dominion over yours.

At first, you're relieved when he finally pulls away - desperately trying to fulfill the oxygen debt he so eagerly created. But relief melts into abject terror as the muscles of his brow tense, his eyes squinting in scrutiny. Despite the invasive heat of his heavy pants against your face, you’re frozen. 

“Babe...” Kirishima agonizingly pauses. You wanted to break free from his suffocating gaze, but it was futile - every fiber of your being was utterly petrified. “Where’s your..” He glanced back to the window.

You couldn’t hold it back, the tears trailing down your cheeks. He figured it out, didn’t he? 

“Ei-Eijirou it’s not-”

His head snapped back to you. Fury danced upon the rigidity of his features, his breathing labored from barely restrained rage rather than impassioned lust. That voice, often jovial, was seethed through barred teeth. “Did you...?”

You choked on your frantic words, your sobs indicative of your guilt. “I-I’m sorry! I promise, I-I won’t try it ever -”

“Shut up,” Kirishima growls. His grip on your wrists tighten painfully, eliciting a sharp cry. In an instant, he releases his hold on one arm, slamming a balled fist into the bed mere inches away from your head. Your mouth gapes in terror, his knuckles straining threateningly against the skin. The fingers unfurl, instead quickly snaking around your throat in a vice grip. His thumb hardens, pressing against your windpipe with a crushing force. Hot, angry tears trail down his face, his teeth grinding against each other as he spits a stream of muttered vulgarities. You’re gasping; silently pleading for the respite of air, which only spurs his thumb to drive deeper against your throat.

“Why are you making me do this?!” Eijirou squeezed his eyes shut, heart wrenching in his chest. “I don’t want to hurt you. Why can’t you just let me keep you safe? What if you got hurt out there?” Every word threatens to break, his voice unsteady and pained. “Why couldn’t you just behave?!”

Kirishima’s senses regain when he sees your eyelids dipping, releasing his immovable hold. He cups your cheeks with calloused palms, tears mingling with your own as they drip upon your face. Somehow, his softened expression of apprehension is more terrifying than that of rage.

“I’ve been too lenient, haven’t I?” His hand left your cheek, slowly inching down your arm as he shook his head. Eijirou’s fingers interlocked with yours - and they harden. He isn’t choking you anymore, so why can’t you breathe?

“I’m sorry, princess. I don’t want to do this, but what choice do I have?”

You shake your head frantically, your sobs amplifying. He flashes a weak smile, a deranged attempt at reassurance.

“I-I need to punish you, (Y/n). How else are you going to learn?” A brief, apologetic kiss is placed at the corner of your mouth.

The hardened digits crushingly tighten.

“I just want the best for you. You know that, right?”

Tighter

All that work to earn his praise and leniency - gone. That trust you so meticulously earned was crushed, the bones in your hand threatening to do the same. Kirshima shushed your whimpers and cries of pain as he tightened his grip.

“Please, don’t make this harder than it has to be. Take it like a good girl, for me.”

Tighter

Blinding agony, blurred vision, his voice resounding against your ear.

“I love you,”

Tighter

“So never make me do this again.”

[im-not-looking-for-forgiveness]

Hey! I'm so happy that you write for Arthur! Do you think you could make a reader who is 10 years younger than him and Arthur is insecure, especially since people tease him about it, saying the reader is a kid compared to him. But she saves him and shows impressive skills and how much they love each other? Love you work, dear!

Unlikely Pair - Arthur Shelby x Reader

TW: Graphic depictions of violence and death

Thank you for the request!!! Enjoy!

Taglist: @hxnky-cat @imagine-richards

*****

"You're sort of an unlikely pair, aren't you?" Ada joked, nudging your arm.

"What do you mean?" you questioned, trying to get her to admit what you already knew she would say.

"Well, it's just.. you know? You're a bit young for him." she shrugged helplessly.

You sighed, "Arthur loves me, and I love him. He's only 10 years older than me. It's not that large of a gap. I'm getting tired of repeating myself here."

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry. We just get defensive of him ever since Linda was around." she said, giving you an apologetic smile.

"I get it. I'm just tired of being compared to her. I'm not going to hurt him, Ada." you promised. You could understand her being protective of her brother. It was just the merciless teasing from Tommy and Michael that got on your nerves.

---

"Come on, Arthur, it's just one family dinner. How bad can it be?" you told your boyfriend, trying to console him. He was the hothead of the Peaky Blinders, but with you he was as docile as a sleepy cat.

"Nah, I don't wanna go. They'll just make fun of us. I don't care if it's a family meeting." he whined, burying his face into your shoulder as he hugged you. His much larger frame was so comforting to be held against.

"I know, love, but without you there, they'll just go behind your back on decisions that you should be a part of." you told him, running your fingers through his hair. It was getting long lately.

"You're right." he straightened up, and took your hand. He looked smug, and it made your heart clench. This strong and confident side of your boyfriend never ceased to amaze you.

You joked and gave his hand a kiss, "I know."

"You're coming with me." he decided.

You gasped, "Arthur! I don't think I'm allowed to."

He pressed his forehead to yours, "I don't care. You're my family, which means you're coming with."

"I love you, Arthur Shelby." was all you managed to reply, overwhelmed with how strongly he cared for you.

A short while later, you and Arthur had arrived at Tommy's house. Thomas and Lizzie were the hosts, and you were trying desperately to stay optimistic. They all thought of you as a child, despite you being just slightly younger than Michael. Their endless taunting was infuriating. If you got annoyed, they used it against you. If you acted un-bothered, they didn't let up. There was seemingly no winning. You'd only been together with all of them twice, and both times had ended quite badly. The only one of the Shelby's who liked you at all (besides Arthur) was Ada, and she wasn't going tonight.

"Good evening, brother!" Arthur announced joyfully when the pair of you happened upon Tommy and Lizzie in the den.

Lizzie's gaze caught yours like a snare, "Oh, good, we're on babysitting duty again."

'Fuck you!' you thought bitterly, her words immediately ruining what hope you had for tonight.

"Oh, not this again!" Arthur huffed, hand tightening in yours. You held back twice as hard, knowing that he was about to flee.

"Why? Are Charlie and Ruby joining us?" you bit back.

"No, they're at Ada's." Tommy responded coolly, standing. You could never tell what he was feeling, but you hoped you were right in thinking he seemed annoyed with Lizzie's comment.

"Good." you snapped, before letting Arthur pull you from the room like a rabid dog on a lead.

"I knew we shouldn't have come." Arthur grumbled once out of earshot.

"No! We're staying. We're going to prove them wrong, even if we have to shove it down their throats." you argued, stopping him in the hall.

"Alright, fine. I'm going to go find the cook. I want this dinner over as soon as possible." he sighed, before leaning down to give you a quick kiss.

"Good luck. This place is a damn maze." you tried to lighten the mood. You gave him another, deeper kiss before letting him go.

Alone now, you went to find someone else to talk to. Michael hopefully would be kinder to you, seeing as he was closest to your age. However, his mother Polly was just like the Shelbys. If he wasn't with her, you'd have a chance for normal conversation. If she was there, you'd go find Arthur.

As you wandered down halls and through doorways, you had a vague feeling that someone was watching you. You kept reminding yourself that it was just because you were on edge, but you couldn't get that feeling to dissipate. It was starting to feel quite alarming. So much so, that you turned around and began walking swiftly towards where you thought the kitchen to be.

Arthur didn't want you to be defenseless, and so he had bought you a small pistol. Ever so slowly, you dipped your fingers into your purse to touch it. The cool metal was a relief to your fingers, especially as you saw the closet door across from you open slightly.

"Who's there? This isn't fucking funny." you called, realizing it must be someone playing with you. You knew they didn't like you, but damn!

"I'm going to shoot if you don't come out this instant!" you called out once more. You pulled the pistol from your purse and primed it. You were through with being teased.

You heard a muffled groan, and instantly all thoughts of a prank flew out of your head. That sounded like Michael, and it was definitely a noise of pain. Oh god.

Dashing forward, you flung open the door. As you suspected, Michael was sitting on the floor with his wrists and ankles bound. He had cloth shoved in his mouth and his head was bleeding quite badly, but he was awake. Polly was next to him and looked mostly unharmed, but was unconscious. Then, there was a man you'd never seen before. He was definitely dead, and had what looked like a long needle sticking out of his eye. You diverted your gaze quickly before you could really focus on it. It seemed as if though they were attacked, and then shoved into here.

"Michael, what happened?" you got out, dropping to the ground. You pulled off your shawl and pressed it to his head before taking the cloth out of his mouth. Then, your fingers flew to the knots in the rope. Within seconds, you had him free.

Shakily, he took your shawl from your hand to hold it on himself. In the exchange, you were relieved to see that the head wound was superficial. It was just bleeding profusely. He explained, "Four men. Now three. I don't know if there's more. They kept asking where Arthur was, but heard you coming and ran toward the kitchen."

"Fuck! Are you alright here?" you questioned, heart jumping into your throat. Arthur!

"Where's Arthur?" he asked, trying to get Polly out in the open with his free hand.

"The kitchen!" you told him, on the verge of abandoning him.

"Fuck, go! We'll be fine now." Michael assured you.

You took off towards the kitchen, too panicked to cry or be upset. All you could focus on was getting to Arthur. You knew he was more than capable of defending himself, but even he could lose to three men! Possibly more!

When you finally found the kitchen, you nearly collapsed on the spot. There was blood everywhere, with seemingly half of it on Arthur. A mangled body was on the floor with a mess where the man's face was supposed to be. The other two that Michael had warned about were in the process of killing your boyfriend. One had a rope wrapped around his neck, while the other was restraining his arms.

Remembering there was a gun in your hands, you took aim and fired. The kick wrenched your arm back and disoriented you. You hadn't expected it to be so strong!

"Hey!" one of the men shouted as his partner fell to the ground. You'd somehow nailed the man holding Arthur's arms in the back of the head. It had to have been sheer luck, because you'd only ever shot at bottles before. What wasn't lucky however, was watching blood and viscera spray across the once pristine kitchen. You had no time to react because there was still another threat.

"Leave him alone!" you screamed and fired at the second man. More prepared for the kick this time, you nailed him three times in the chest. His body looked wrong as it crumpled to the kitchen floor, spilling more blood across the white tiles.

You then ran to Arthur, and wrenched the noose open enough for him to breathe. A quick examination told you that nearly all the blood on his person belonged to the already dead man on the ground somewhere behind you.

"Are you okay?" you demanded, cupping his face in your hands.

"Yeah, I am now. Damn Italians!" he rasped out, grasping for you.

Tommy burst into the room, gun blazing. He looked around for a few seconds before seeming to realize what happened. He lowered his gun and came to your side.

"Arthur, are you alright?" he questioned, concerned.

"I am, thanks to Y/N. She saved my life." Arthur answered, not once letting you go.

"You did this? These were some of Changretta's men." Tommy asked you, gesturing to one of the bodies. You hadn't been around during the dealings with the Italian mafia, but you'd heard enough to know how serious it was.

"They were strangling Arthur to death." was all you could manage to say. You'd just killed two men. What would your life be like after this?

"I'm impressed. And thankful. I owe you a debt for saving my brother's life, and an apology for doubting your affection for him." Tommy admitted honestly.

You helped Arthur stand, "You don't owe me anything, Tommy. Just don't make fun of us anymore, and we'll call it good."

Tommy stared for a moment before speaking, "Alright. Let's get you both a drink."

---

"Polly is resting, and Michael is getting his head stitched up by one of the maids." Tommy updated you as he passed around drinks to the rest of the family.

"Who were they?" Lizzie asked, lighting a cigarette.

Tommy explained, "Italians. Changretta's old crew. I believe they were working alone, since as we all know, Luca Changretta is no longer a threat. Y/N here made sure they wouldn't be either. She killed two out of the four men who invaded my home in order to save Arthur's life."

"The kid's got some nerve." Lizzie said, but with no malice in her voice. She raised her glass to you, and the rest of the room followed suit.

"She's shown us that she and Arthur are serious. Anyone who doubts that now can take it up with me. She saved my brother's life today." Thomas explained further, before knocking back the rest of his drink.

"To Y/N." Arthur announced, voice still raspy.

"To Y/N."

[hurricanerin]

I’ll Never Tell Ch. 4: Imagine It

Pairing: Loki/OFC

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, non-con, power imbalance, violence, breeding, forced orgasms.

Chapter summary: That time we went home.

<< Ch. 3 | Ch. 5 >>

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*Because Petra doesn’t understand Jotun, I don’t provide translations aside from skapning, which means “creature.”  (I’ll tell you a secret though, I culturally appropriated an entire language from my fellow Norsk.  Google Translate will lend a helping hand if you’re that curious.)

Petra rolled sleepily onto her side and laid her head on the pillow next to Loki’s.  The man was much easier to deal with when unconscious.  He’d been pushy about the baby ever since they had returned to Utgard. Eat this, don’t lift that, sit down, go rest.  Now he was finally quiet, and a sleeping Loki was a pleasant Loki.

Even at rest his brow furrowed slightly, the corners of his mouth tipping downwards.  She brushed her fingertips against his forehead, intent on erasing the lines from his face.  Her skin connected with his for two seconds before a hand clapped around her wrist. Her stomach dropped as Loki’s eyes snapped open, his cold gaze murderous.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“You just what?  Thought it would be entertaining to test the King’s reflexes?  Dum jente,” he growled.

Tugging her wrist, Petra glared, her heart still pounding from adrenaline.

“Stop calling me names.”

“I’m not calling you names.”  He dragged his other hand from beneath the pillow, revealing a six-inch dagger.  He dangled it in front of her face.  “I’m stating what you are.  You’re fortunate I remembered it was you in my bed.  Were I any less sharp, this would be embedded in your eye.”

Petra flushed and swallowed hard, bowing her head.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want your apologies, just don’t be foolish.”

Petra bristled, successfully tugging her wrist from his grasp and flipping over to face the wall.  She heard him stash the knife beneath his pillow and waited for him lie down.  When he continued bustling beneath the sheets she glanced over her shoulder to find him pulling two coils of rope from beneath the bed.  That combined with his visibly waking cock prompted her to bolt, practically falling out of bed in her eagerness to get away.

“No.”

Loki’s brows rose innocently.  “No, what?”

“Just no.  Whatever you’re doing, stop.”

“You speak as though you have control of this situation.  Have you forgotten you owe me a debt for coming without permission?  I keep my promises, skapning. You’ll learn to listen to me.”

“I’m still sore from earlier,” she grumbled, her cheeks burning as she squeezed her thighs together in an attempt to protect her tender bits.

Ignoring her response, Loki crept near the headboard and looped each length of rope around either post of the bedframe.  He tugged, and once satisfied they’d hold motioned for Petra to climb back on the bed.  She shook her head.

“I said no.”

“Do you so easily forget the circumstances under which you’re here?”

“I’m doing my part of our bargain.  We have a lot of sex.  You’ve probably gotten me pregnant.  I didn’t agree to anything having to do with ropes.”

His maroon eyes glittered as he shook his head. “You agreed to let me breed you. Who’s to say I’m not about to do that?”

Lips pinched, she wrapped her arms around her naked body.  “You can breed me without restraining me.”

“I told you what we do with Jötunn women that resist.  Do you remember?”

Of course she remembered.  They were tied down.  He’d threatened to do the same to her their first time together.

“I’m not resisting your use of me.  And I’m not Jötunn.”

“You’re right, you’re not Jötunn.”  

He crawled forward on the bed and slung his legs over the side.  Spreading them, the conversation having obviously aroused him, he yanked her between his legs by her wrist.  Hesitantly she rested her hands on the tops of his thighs, freezing when he leaned forward, his hardening cock pressing against her belly.

"If you were Jötunn, you’d have a better concept of your status,” he murmured against her ear.

Petra whined softly, shaking her head as she tried to back away.  Even though she was fairly certain the Jötnar didn’t kiss, she couldn’t think as well with his mouth so close to hers.  He sank his fingers into her hair, tangling them in the silver strands until she stopped moving.

“Even as a Dark Elf your place is on your knees before me.  I’ve put you in it many times.”

She pushed against his chest with a scowl, “I know my place.  I willingly assume it whenever you want me.”

He studied her, his even breaths softly expelling hot, moist air against her hair.

“This is true.”  Loki tilted his head, thoughtfully tracing her collarbone with cool fingertips. “Perhaps I don’t need to tie you down for what I have planned.”

Shooting her a wicked smirk, he retreated to the center of the bed, arranging the pillows so he could sit comfortably against the headboard.  Long legs splayed wide open, he shamelessly revealed his growing erection.  Loki gave it a few strokes and her brows rose as it hardened further.  She’d never seen his impressive cock so close.

Loki reached for her, “Come to me.”

Stomach flipping, Petra eyed the still-present ropes and warily climbed on the bed.   She inched forward, perching on her knees at his side.  With a sigh, he lazily pumped his fist over his length.

“In my lap, skapning.”

“I don’t want to…,” she waved her hand at his half hard cock, “hurt you.”

           His sharp canines glistened as he smiled. “You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

With a huff, she delicately crept into his lap, carefully positioning herself between his spread legs.  Loki hummed, bending his knees as he leaned forward to arrange her with her back against his chest.  

She stiffened as his fingers twined in her hair again, experimentally weaving through the platinum strands.  With a shiver, she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He looked curious, almost innocent as he investigated her hair, so different from the stark ebony of the Jötnar. It was an act more intimate than he realized and it made her stomach flutter in the most unseemly manner.

Distress spiking, Petra broke the silence.  “Why are we sitting like this?”

“Relax.”

She could feel the timbre of his voice rumble in his chest as she shifted uneasily.

“I’m trying,” she snipped.

“Careful, skapning.  This isn’t meant to be comfortable.”

Just as she was forming a response, his chilled fingers stroked down her chest and sides to trace along the skin of her inner thighs.  Her breath hitched and without thinking, her knees fell open.  Pursed lips curving into a smile, he cupped her mound and pet his hand against the soft flesh.  When she squirmed, he released a grunt at the friction created between her back and his cock. His fingers tightened, claw-like nails pressing into her delicate skin in warning.

“Be still,” he said against her jaw.  With his free hand, he wrapped his fingers around her neck, forcing her to look up and back at him as he peered down at her. “You asked why we’re sitting like this. We’re sitting like this so I can touch you without interruption.  In this position, you can’t crawl away from me, you can’t run.  You can’t fight me.  Perhaps you may try to block me with your hands, but you’re easily subdued and therefore I’m not concerned.”

Flexing his fingers to remind her of his strength, Loki released her throat and hummed against her neck.  “You owe me something and I’m intent on collecting.”  Hand still nestled over her mons, he carefully slid his middle finger inside her entrance.  Over her shoulder he watched, captivated, as it sank in.  Petra could feel the firm ridges of his cock length swelling against her back.  

Her body clenched as she processed exactly what he said.

“I owe you use of my body, and that’s it.  I’m a vessel, not a toy,” she said, turning her face to the side so he could see her speak.

His warm breath ghosted over her jaw as he chuckled, “You became my toy the second you came without permission.  I’m now obligated to teach you self-control. You’re like a child, really.”

Initially her white brows furrowed in confusion, but eventually relaxed as he smoothed the wetness gathered at her entrance over her clit.  He began moving his fingers in slow, tight circles and she groaned, pussy pulsing.  

She shifted in distracted irritation as her thinking grew foggy, hampered by the heat accumulating in her lower belly.  All she could contemplate was that he was supposed to be a beast, not her seducer.

Loki licked her neck and the elf let out a soft keening noise, her head thumping back against his shoulder.  He varied the pressure of his finger, dragging the tip across her swollen bud with the lightest of touches, then firmly rubbing it. Her chest rose and fell swiftly as she tried to keep her eyes open, the spine-tingling sensations he was inflicting forcing her lids to lower.

He continued, dipping his finger back inside her swollen passage to gather more arousal and in an attempt to ground herself, she clutched his forearms.

Drunk on lust, her words were slightly slurred. “This is because-because I couldn’t stop from orgasming?”  Swallowing hard, she squeezed her already-closed eyes in concentration. “That’s the self-control you’re talking about?”

Loki nipped at the tender skin of her neck.  “Mhm.”  Casually he increased the speed at which he tormented her clit, making her toes curl.  “You can’t keep yourself from reaching your peak.  Do you know you’re unique in this occurrence, skapning?”

Breath coming in tiny pants, she shook her head.  His lips curved into a smile against the shell of her ear.

“I’ll have you know bringing Jötnar women to completion is burdensome.  When we breed, the males orgasm and typically leave. It’s expected that the females also orgasm for the sake of aiding in conception, but they’re left to do so on their own,” he whispered against her neck.  “You? You I can’t keep from coming, my disobedient little elven bitch.”  He bit the lobe of her ear and Petra failed at subduing a whine.  She felt his cock jerk behind her at the noise, which only made her hips pump forward against his hand.

“It’s not-I’m not…,” she sighed as his dexterous fingers massaged her tender bundle of nerves.  Pressure built in her lower abdomen, a winding spring desperately close to releasing.  As she faded from reality, a whimper escaped from between her lips and her back arched, thrusting her pelvis against his palm.  When he chuckled at her, she ignored him, until he spoke.

“You’re rutting against my hand like a common whore,” he husked.

His words felt like they’d slapped her across the face. Men on Svartalfheim had never been overly respectful to her, but they’d never accused her of being a whore. Trying to elbow him in the ribs, she began to turn when two of his fingers slid inside her, made easy by the accumulated wetness.

“Shhh, skapning,” he soothed.

Slowly his fingers flexed.  Loki curled them, stroking the tips against a swollen patch inside her. Petra groaned in his lap, nails biting into the blue skin of his arms as she tried to reason with herself.  Nothing good could come from giving him what he wanted, but the notion quickly vacated her mind as his fingers flexed.  Failing at thought in general, the coil of electric heat only wound tighter, coaxing her hips into rocking against his hand.

“If you’re…,” she tried to focus, words evading her, “If you’re teaching me self-control, why does it feel good?”

Loki’s breath brushed against her hair as he chuckled. “You’ll see.”

He made a beckoning motion, the pads of his fingertips brushing against the supremely sensitive area inside her.  She gasped, bucking hard against his hand.  He pumped his fingers swiftly, giving her no time between thrusts for her to gather her thoughts.  Mind hazy, she let her eyes slip closed as she relished in the intoxicating feeling of his fingers inside her.  When the thumb of his opposite hand grazed her clit, she cried out.  As he started rubbing while simultaneously plunging inside her, he spoke lowly.

“Come, skapning.”

Petra’s brows furrowed and she let out a choked whimper. He’d forbidden her to orgasm so many times prior, knowing she’d fail.  Now that he was coaxing her into it, it felt wrong.  Like a trick.  

He curled his fingers, pressing firmly and making her see stars as he overwhelmed her with sensation.  The wet noises of him pumping into her competed for her attention as he growled in her ear.

“Now, Petra.”

Her name on his lips was her end.  Such a cold man preying on her sense of significance by using her name sent her over the edge, a sharp cry flying from her lips.  As her walls contracted a gush of moisture released, flooding his hand as he continued to rhythmically press against the soft tissue just inside her channel.

It took her a moment to come down, her chest heaving as she collapsed against him.  He gave her a minute to recuperate, but after that pulled his fingers from her cunt, dripping with slick, and pressed them back over her clit.  Her hips jerked and she yelped, writhing to move from beneath his hand.  Her cunt twitched, her flaming nub too sensitive for contact.  

“Ow!”

“Shhh, skapning.  You’ll only make it worse.”

Confused, she tried to turn but he used his free hand to stabilize her. Loki disregarded her wriggling and clamped his fingers down into her hip, using his iron grip to hold her still.  Her clit burned, heavily overstimulated.

“Stop!”

Ignoring her, he increased the pressure and started drawing tiny circles around her pearl.  As she shrieked and rocked forward to leave his lap he regarded her silently, his eyes flicking between hers as she looked back at him in desperation.  With an air of tranquility that confounded her, his fingertips dug into the soft flesh of her side, leaving individual bruises as he dragged her back down.

“You’re going to learn to listen to me.  No more of this haphazard orgasming at your own pleasure. What we are doing is serious and you will listen to me.”

“I’m sorry,” she gasped, distractedly clawing at his forearms as he assaulted her bundle of nerves.

“I know you are.  But if I don’t teach you, you won’t learn.”

His nimble finger rubbed against her swollen nub in a way that made her pelvis lift from his lap.  It still hurt, but that dizzying feeling of pleasure now accompanied the sensation.

She let out a guttural cry as her walls contracted, which spurred on Loki’s actions.  She looked down in a daze, his hand moving so rapidly it blurred.   The feeling of her impending orgasm began to overwhelm and she squeezed her eyes shut, coming with an aggravated scream.

Relentlessly, Loki continued assaulting her clit.  She squealed, writhing to unseat his hand. He gave her dribbling pussy a slap and she stilled with a stunned yelp.  Petra panted heavily, still trying to process exactly what was going on.  She’d never considered the forcing of orgasms before.

Cutting off her train of thought, Loki’s hand wandered, this time his fingers sliding back inside her.  It didn’t hurt like when he’d rubbed her clit just after orgasming, but she was sensitive enough that it was still uncomfortable.  His fingers fucked her ruthlessly, absurd sloshing noises echoing in his barren chambers.  Whimpering in confused frustration, she tried to push his hands away.  

Loki issued another strike to her pussy, making her jolt in surprise.  Gathering her wrists in his free hand, he pinned them against her chest, all the while pumping his fingers inside her cunt.

“Continue, skapning.”

She shook, her entire body on overdrive as he coaxed her body into things she tried to deny it permission for.  What she wanted didn’t matter.  With a tortured sob, she obeyed as he worked her through another orgasm. Fire licked up her spine and for one blissful moment, her mind went blank as she seized in his lap, the walls of her pussy greedily sucking at his fingers.  

Tears leaked from her eyes and she tried to wrestle her hands free to wipe at her face, but he easily held her in place.  His other hand remained busy, thrusting into her brutally. He twisted his fingers, smirking as her hips lurched forward for more attention.  

Breaths coming in heaving gasps and no longer able to support herself, Petra leaned on Loki.  She weakly tried to close her thighs, and screamed when he issued five rapid smacks to her red, swollen slit.

“Again,” he commanded.

“I’ve learned my lesson,” she panted.  “You can stop!”

“Again,” was his cold reply.

Offhandedly she fumed at how calm he sounded, as if he were instructing a group of practicing archers instead of ripping orgasm after orgasm from her.  The thought quickly evaporated as his lips suctioned around her earlobe.  Without thinking she pressed the side of her face against his mouth, eager for more attention even as he attacked her opening.

A few tears dribble    ed down her cheek as she tried to reason with him.

“I’ll stop, I will.  I’ll stop coming when you tell me to,” she whimpered.

Loki’s hand slowed, but his fingers continued to flex against that enflamed patch of flesh hidden inside her.  The king considered her for a moment:  Eyes glassy, hair tousled and cheeks tinged with crimson.  He released her wrists, which dropped limply to her sides.

“I’m afraid I don’t believe you, skapning.”

More tears threatened to pour from her eyes as she held back a sob.

“Shhh, I said I don’t believe you, not that I won’t stop. One more, then your lesson will be over.”

Petra’s body went boneless with relief, and had he not been holding her so securely she would’ve wilted in his lap.  His fingers began caressing her insides again and she vaguely realized she could feel the grooves and ridges on his agile digits.

As his fingers quickened, shockwaves pulsed inside her, making her clench around his digits.  She mewled, her hand climbing up his neck and burying itself in his hair as she braced herself for the euphoric disorder he was about to inflict.

Loki’s fingers rubbed her just right and she let out a scream, her own fingers clamping around one of his horns.  He stiffened, releasing a guttural groan and as she convulsed in his lap, she felt liquid warmth splash against her back.  

Delirious and covered in his come, she flopped back against him, completely spent.  They both wheezed, bodies desperate for air as they came down.  Finally, he spoke, his voice resentful.

“That is not how I like to spend my seed.  You’ll not touch my horns again.  You just wasted a valuable opportunity.  Were I not so taxed from your lesson, I’d scoop my come from your skin and push it inside you.”

Petra nodded dumbly, her lower body alerting her of the abuse it had received with vague throbbing.  Her entire center ached, clit too sensitive to withstand closing her thighs.

With an irritated huff, he dumped her from his lap and strode to the washroom.  Too fatigued to follow, she managed to crawl to the dry side of the bed and collapsed in exhaustion, quickly losing consciousness.

 She woke alone to a female Jötunn clothed in a simple dress prodding her.

“Get up, elf.  It smells of sex in here, I’m to change the sheets.”

Petra glared with all her might at the woman, but rolled out of the bed.  She stumbled, sorer than she anticipated.  She supposed Loki had fucked her rather severely.  Eventually she made it to the bathroom, where she found the tub filled with steaming water.  Bracing against the wall, she walked herself down the stone steps and into the bath.  The water soothed her aching muscles, coaxing a tired groan.  Just as she was about to dip beneath the surface, she caught sight of a red bloom in the water.  Tears of frustration stung her eyes as she realized the source, and she dropped her head back against the ledge of the tub in defeat.

 Three knocks sounded as Loki sat among his advisors, speaking rapidly in their language.

All silent, they looked to their king.  The list of those who dared interrupt him while with his counsel was quite short.

“Tast inn.”

When the door clicked closed behind Petra, the three women and two men looked up from the document they had been studying.  Loki frowned.  She looked pale, her skin more gray than blue and her lips pallid.  Loki dismissed his cabinet without a second thought.

“You’re all excused.”

They bowed before filing out of the room while Petra fidgeted with the sleeve of her dress in the entrance.  

When she didn’t look at him, Loki drummed his fingers on the table.  “Come in. What is it?  Is something wrong with the baby?

Petra wandered in slowly, not meeting his gaze.  She lung one leg over the other, chewing at her lip.

“I… I got my period.  I’m not pregnant.”

She was met with silence and fleetingly glanced up.  The king stood with his lips pursed, clasping his wrist behind him in the opposite hand.  He watched her, eyes flicking back and forth from her belly to her face.

Her stomach rolled.  She knew he wouldn’t be pleased, but his stillness was unnerving. What if he only allowed her the one chance?

“We’ll continue copulating.  Elves bleed monthly?”

Petra nodded, trying to stand tall.  

“Very well.”

When he examined her without saying a word, only nodding, her eyes prickled with relief that he wasn’t throwing her out... and something else she couldn’t identify.  Guilt, perhaps?  She shook the feeling off and snuck another glance at him.   Though his solemn face was nearly emotionless, she knew the way his brows furrowed signified frustration.  Her stomach twisted but she ignored it.  It wouldn’t make sense that disappointing him hurt.  She barely knew him.  Elves weren’t supposed to feel, anyway.

loki: @the-kinky-friend @averyrogers83​ @smollest-soybean​ @imnotrevealingmyname​

everything: @kakakatey​ @monarchofallisurvey​ @cassiopeya81​ @vintage-lovers-world​ @jeremyrennermakesmesmile​ @false-octopus​

thanks to @writeyourmindaway​ for the divider 💖 

[purpleswans1]

The Attack on Mount Lady

A contribution to my Villain!Izuku AU using the prompt “Consequences.” In regards to the content... I’m just going to say I am so, so sorry guys.

Read also on FF and AO3

“Are you excited, Uraraka?” Izuku asked.

Uraraka bit her lip. “Somewhat, but… Are you sure we should be doing this?”

Izuku frowned. “What do you mean? Mount Lady has proven time and again that she doesn’t fit the criteria of a true hero. She’s the reason your father died and your family was stuck with a load of debt. Isn’t it right that we take her down and expose her for the fraud that she is?”

“Technically, the hero commision were the ones who covered the whole thing up.”

“But Mount Lady still holds most of the blame. And every time we take down a pro hero, especially if we expose their wrongdoing, the commision loses some of its power.”

Uraraka sighed. “I get that, but I just can’t shake this feeling that things won’t go our way.”

“That’s why I have so many contingency plans in place.” Izuku touched her arm. “If you really don’t want to, we can postpone the attack for a later date…”

Uraraka shook her head. “No, this is the best day for us to do this. It’s probably just nerves.”

“Okay then. Let’s go.”

-----------------

Mount Lady isn’t a fan of patrols.

She knows why she has to do them.Make your presence known, get a chance to interact with citizens, defer thoughts of crime, etc. etc. Didn’t change the fact that they were so boring. She could be doing a lot more interesting stuff such as interviews, filming commercials, and flirting with commision representatives. Those were also important for her image.

But no, she had to go out and walk the streets, letting random perverts take her picture just to prove she was doing her job. Ah well, maybe she’ll be able to get some free food from a sympathetic food stand owner. It was almost lunchtime after all.

She noticed a food truck owner that was a big fan of hers and headed his way. Before she could could flag him down, someone bumped into her.

Mount Lady frowned. "You should watch where you're going."

"Oh, sorry about that," the stranger said. "I've been looking for you, Yu Takeyama."

Why is he using my civilian name? "You know you can make an appointment with my agency, right?"

The stranger smirked. "Oh, this isn't something you want to be on the record."

He raised his head, giving Mount Lady a clear view of his face. Her heart froze.

That's the guy who almost killed Endeavour!

Mount Lady leaned back into a fighting position. "What do you want, villain?"

Analyst -- that’s his name -- laughed. “Why, we’re here to judge you, of course!”

“We?” Mount Lady asked.

The civilians ran away, having figured out that a villain fight was about to break out. There were only five people that didn’t try to escape. They walked in the opposite direction of the others, surrounding Mount Lady and supporting Analyst. She recognized four of them from the Quirk Revolutionaries’ debut. The fifth was wearing a white mask covering half his face, but he was somewhat familiar.

Analyst unzipped his hoodie and pulled out a… net? “Our current society is unwilling and unable to prosecute you for your crimes, so it is up to the Quirk Revolutionaries to dispense justice!”

Mount Lady grit her teeth. “I have no idea what crimes you’re talking about. The only criminals here are you!” She began to grow, reaching out to attack the villain in front of her.

In a flash, a rope was wrapped around her neck, strangling her.

“Good job, Spinner, Elemental.” Analyst said.

Their plan is just to strangle me? Mound Lady thought. Well, I’ll just throw them off when I get big.

She continued to grow, but the rope continued to bite into her neck. She fell on her back, trying to give herself some slack. She looked out of the corner of her eye and realized the rope was attached to a manhole cover. She’d be able to pull it out easily enough if she was at full size, but in order to get that big she’d have to strangle herself.

Maybe I can slip out if I go back to normal size. She started to shrink again.

Spinner grabbed the rope and pulled it taught. “You’re not slipping away that easily.”

Analyst walked up beside her, drabing the net over her legs as he went. “Your weaknesses are so obvious, it’s a wonder you were able to pass a certified Hero Studies Program. Your strength is proportional to your size, so as long as you can’t grow you’re essentially powerless. You can’t fight in enclosed areas, but for our purposes it’s easy to simply make it so you’ll hurt yourself if you try to grow.”

Mount Lady tried to grow again, but stopped immediately when the rope around her neck tightened uncomfortably. She thrashed around to try and get out, but only succeeded in getting tangled up in the net.

Finally, she stopped struggling and simply glared at the villains, recognizing defeat. “Well then, what are you waiting for? Your plan worked; you’ve got me.”

Analyst pulled out a gun. “Comet?”

The girl Mount Lady recognized as Comet stepped forward. She threw back her hood, revealing a young, round face framed by a bob cut.

“Do you recognize her?” Analyst asked Mount Lady.

“...Should I?” Mount Lady gave the girl a closer look, but still couldn’t remember anything.

Analyst’s gun shook with rage. “You really don’t remember? Of course not, you don’t even realize how much harm you caused....”

“Deku.” Comet placed her hand on top of Analyst’s, taking hold of the gun. “It’s okay.”

“But you shouldn’t have…”

Comet shook her head. “You said you’d let me choose her punishment, right? Let me handle this.”

Analyst stared at Comet for a moment, but eventually relinquished the gun to her.

Comet turned to look at Mount Lady again. “It would have been.. almost a year and a half now. You were in the middle of a villain fight. I think it was against Trapezius Head Gear? You were so focused on the fight, you accidentally crashed into a construction site.”

Mount Lady frowned. She could vaguely remember that, but didn’t remember anything special about the incident.

“My father and five of his employees were killed by a falling I-beam.”

Mount Lady sucked in her breath. “That… That was because of me?”

“Yes.” Comet walked up until she was standing on Mount Lady’s right side, staring down at her. “I would have understood it if that was all that happened -- After all, it was the villain’s fault for attacking in the first place. But when we tried to get money for dad’s and the employee’s life insurance, the hero commision covered everything up. They claimed the accident happened because my father didn’t follow safety protocols. My family’s company was liable for the accident, and had to pay for both my father’s funeral and reparations to the dead employee’s families”

Mount Lady shook her head. “I swear, I didn’t know anything about that! The hero commision took care of everything I had nothing to do with it!”

“I believe you.” Comet’s eyes were kind. “Honestly, I don’t think I really hate you. This was mostly Analyst’s idea, but I can see the wisdom in it. What I really hate is the hero commision, but they’re too big to attack directly. This is the only way to cause real change.”

Comet kneeled down and pushed Mount Lady on her side. “I’m going to shoot you directly in your spinal cord. It shouldn’t be lethal, but you’ll be paralized from the waist down. You’ll never be able to work as a hero again.

Tears fell from Mount Lady’s eyes, leaving tracks along the side of her nose and to her ear. She didn’t make a sound though. If what she’s saying is true, maybe this is what I deserve…

“Get away from her, you villains!”

Analyst turned to the new intruders. “It’s Fatgum. He got here faster than I expected.”

Dabi frowned. “Hey, who are those two with him?”

Indeed, Fatgum was running through the street in their direction, flanked by two other heroes. They weren’t as recognizable as the pro, and from their ages were likely still in high school.

Analyst swore. “That’s Suneater. I only know the basics of his abilities. The other one…”

Elemental’s breath caught. “Kirishima.”

Analyst ran over to Comet’s side. “We need to finish up quickly. Dabi, focus on Fatgum. Keep him away from us. Spinner, Toga, you get Suneater. Elemental…” He looked at the final member, worried.

Elemental nodded. “I’ll handle Kirishima. I know his style.”

Analyst didn’t look happy. “Stick to one side. I don’t want to expose you to early.”

Elemental nodded and joined his team members in attacking the heroes.

Analyst grabbed Comet’s shoulder. “Hurry up. We need to go.”

“R-right.” Coment’s body, fro her arms to her knees, was shaking. “Mind holding her for me? I need both hands to shoot straight.”

Analyst kneeled down next to her, replacing her hands in holding Mount Lady on her side.

Comet took a deep breath. And another. And another. She had the gun in two hands and it was pressed up against the hero’s back, but she didn’t pull the trigger. At least, not yet.

“Please, Uraraka.” Analyst whispered. “I’m not sure how much longer everyone else will be able to hold out.”

Comet nodded. “You’re right. Just…”

An octopus tentacle shot out and knocked both of them back. Analyst quickly recovered and pulled out a knife. “Dammit, Suneater!”

Suneater was holding both Toga and Spinner down with tentacles covered in clam shells bursting from his left hand. The tentacles in his right hand shot out to attack Analyst and Comet again, but were disintegrated by red flames.

Elemental ran to support his allies, followed closely by Kirishima. Suneater backed up slightly, nursing his burt tentacles. Kirishima reached out, about to grab Elemental’s hoodie.

“Shit!” Analyst grabbed the gun beside him and skillfully shot Kirishima.

The bullet didn’t do any damage. Kirishima had instinctively hardened his hand. It did distract him though, and gave Elemental a chance to knock Suneater off his allies.

“He’s got a gun!” Kirishima shouted.

Analyst started to back away. He almost tripped after a few steps. His leg had gotten tangled up in the net. He leaned down and quickly cut the rope with his knife.

The distraction was just enough for Kirishima. “You’re going down!”

A few steps later, his leg was encased in ice, a very familiar cold holding him in place.

“Fire… and ice?” Kirishima breathed.

Analyst looked up. “Dammit, I told you to stick to one side!”

Elemental finched, but shot a red flame at Suneater again.

A new voice came from the opposite side of the street. “We got here just in time!”

Analyst turned around. The Dragoon Hero, Ryuku, was running into the fray. She was followed by her own interns, Nejire-chan and Asui.

With this, we’re basically outnumbered, Analyst realized.

Dabi backed up into Analyst. “What’s the plan, bossman?”

“We need to retreat,” Analyst said.

Dabi looked side to side. “I doubt the exit plan you came up with will work in this scenario.”

Analyst bit his lip. He’s right.

“Deku… my leg is stuck!” Comet shouted.

Analyst turned to her. The net was tangled up in her left leg, caught in the straps of her air thrusters.

He kneeled down. “I’ll cut you out!”

“No time!” Dabi summoned his blue flame.

“You’ll burn her along with the net!” Analyst shouted.

Ryuku, now in dragon form, jumped to attack them. Dabi was able to push her back with his flame, but only barely.

Comet breathed heavily. “I’ve got an idea. All of you need to get together and let me touch you.”

Analyst frowned. “What are you…”

“Guys! Huddle up!” Dabi shouted.

Toga, Spinner, and Elemental ran to the others. One by one, Comet touched each of her teammates.

Suneater took a moment to breath. Nejire-chan ran up to him.

“The Quirk Revolutionaries… The leader is Analyst.” Nejire-chan said.

Suneater nodded. “He’s the one Mirio is interested in.”

Comet waited to touch Analyst last. “Everybody, grab onto Deku. Elemental, Dabi, you two should be able to navigate with your fire.” She looked Analyst straight in the eye. “It’ll be just like in practice, but without the weighted line.”

Analyst’s head spun from all the information he was trying to process. “Right… that’ll work… And you’ll be following with your jets?”

Comet smiled sadly. “There isn’t enough time to get me untangled.”

Wait, then how will she… “No! There’s got to be another way! Just give me a second to think of something…”

“Goodby, Deku.”

Just before Comet threw him into the air, Izuku felt the other members of the team grab him. Dabi and Shoto grabbed an elbow each, Spinner clung to his shoulder, and Toga wrapped her arms around his waist. They shot up into the sky together, weightless.

“No! Send us back down! I have to save her!” Izuku shouted.

“Idiot! You said we needed to retreat!” Dabi shouted.

“We can’t leave her!”

“Please… Izukun…” Toga’s weightless tears wet the back of Izuku’s neck. “Bestie wouldn’t want this.”

The tears were what finally snapped Izuku to his senses. “Toga… you guys… I’m so…”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Shoto said. “You did everything you could.”

“Uraraka sacrificed herself to save us.” Spinner reminded him. “It was her choice.”

They all floated in silence after that. They continued to ascend, aiming for the clouds above. Whenever air resistance caused them to slow down, Shoto and Dabi would shoot off fire blasts to propel everyone up again.

Once they broke through the clouds and reached an altitude where they struggled to breath, Dabi changed their direction to start looking for a landing area for whenever Uraraka released them from her quirk.

Izuku was suddenly struck with a thought. “Um… guys? How are we going to explain this to the kids?”

Nobody provided an answer. In the end, it would be Izuku who’d sit Eri and Kota down and tearfully explain why Big Sis Uraraka wasn’t coming home.

[ghoulboyboos]

For prompts, are you okay with Robin Hood-esque thief Shane getting discovered by Ryan? But like, no angst or fighting? Thanks, and I hope you have a good day :)

Man I have to watch the old Disney movie again I miss it!

-

Ryan knows he shouldn’t take this path but his cart is drawn by two oxen and not a horse so the dirt road is going to get him in trouble. He would be to slow with the carts of the high people around Nottingham passing him by and he doesn’t want to get kicked off the road and risk everything. So he takes the path through the woods and he keeps urging the beasts of burden to go faster. He’s shaking and he wants to go home he doesn’t even want to get to the castle but he has to.

The road is terrible, but at least his oxen seem calm and secure in their steps. Ryan has almost, almost relaxed when suddenly, there is a rustle in the trees above him. His head shoots up and he is trying his best to spot movement between the leaves, cranes his neck to see something, anything and before he knows it, a rope stretches across the path in front of him, causing the oxen to stop and stumble back and Ryan has to hold on to not be thrown off the cart. A net is pulled up, effectively blocking the path and when he turns in his seat, looking behind him he sees several armed people step out from the trees.

Ryan bursts out in a cold sweat, hands tightening around the whip he is holding. It’s nowhere anything like a real weapon and he doubts he could defend himself with it. A shoe scrapes against the wood of his cart and he jumps and screams, scrambling away as he sees a tall figure climb on his coach box. The person is wearing a long, dark green coat with a hood that hides their hair and face but when Ryan scrambles, the person stops, startled, before throwing their head back. The hood slips and the slim face of a man is revealed beneath it, a long sharp nose and visible cheek bones and his mouth is open as he laughs. A loud and open belly laugh that echoes in the trees and makes the other people around them laugh as well.

“Now there, friend! No reason to fear! We were merely worried to see how heavy your poor animals have to carry. Where are you off to, if I may ask?”

He puts a boot on the seat next to Ryan and leans his elbow on his knee, as if somehow intrigued. Ryan knows it’s an act, he knows who this is and who the other people are and he is shaking so hard he could fall of the cart.

“Please.” He finally manages. “I have to bring this to Prince John, he is going to-”

“Oh well!” The man stands up and spreads his arms out, palms up as he looks around. “The Prince is an old friend of ours! Am I right, everyone?” There are laughs and hollers responding to that and the man grins. His mouth seems almost too smal compared to his nose and his eyes crinkle in an honest amused smile. Ryan could almost relax if this guy wasn’t about to rob him.

“We will gladly take these things off your back, young man. Don’t worry, the Prince has more than enough and he won’t miss any of thi-”

“NO!” Ryan is surprised at how loud his voice is. The bandits, who have started to undo the bindings of the crates on his cart pause, looking at him and more than one hand wanders to a belt or back to reach for weapons. The man next to him seems a little startled and Ryan knows this might be his only chance for a plea.

“Please! I know what you’re doing and I- I won’t tell anyone where you are. That you were here, I mean. But....” He grits his teeth and curses. “This cartload is part of the taxes the Prince is taking from the village I come from. We’re just farmers, we have nothing but the Sherrif said that if we didn’t pay up, he would come and throw everyone in jail and raze our houses to the ground. Many of the people there are old or they have young children but the Sherrif doesn’t care. He’ll just throw everyone in debtor’s prison until we pay up but- We don’t have anything to pay!” He hates that his voice is going high pitched and desperate but nobody has shot him yet so he doesn’t stop. “If you take this from me, we’re all going to die!” He doesn’t say that with nearly the complete harvest gone, most are going to starve during the Winter anyway, but he feels like he doesn’t have to. Despite everything, the man they sometimes call Hood sees to the people in situations like these.

Ryan realizes he’s out of breath and sucks in air, shuddering as fear and desperation bleeds out of him. He is numb, the weeks of the terror he and his family and friends went to left him exhausted and he knows that if the bandits try to take his things again, he will be out of energy to fight. At least he won’t have to see his home burn when he comes in front of the Prince without the promised wares. The monarch is probably going to hang him right then and there.

He flinches when a hand lands on his arm. The man in the long coat has sat down next to him and tentavely reached out to touch him. It’s not a threatening move, instead the long slim fingers squeeze Ryan’s bicep as if to ground and reassure him.

“I’m so sorry we assumed wrongly, friend. You see, many debt collectors that work for the Prince come through here and we assumed you were one of them.” Ryan stares at him, open mouthed and surprised and turns slightly to see the other people secure the crates again and tie them to the cart. Most return to blend into the woods after that, but a few hang back and look at their leader who is still sitting next to Ryan.

“Listen. I want to make up for scaring you. I feel you have been through a lot.” Before Ryan can protest, the man has pulled a small bag from his belt and pressed it into Ryan’s palm. The weight and feel of it tells him it must be filled with coins, probably more than enough to feed the village for weeks.

“I will make sure your village is under the protection of my men. We have not ventured as far, but I think I know what place you’re from.” He smiles and dodges Ryan’s eyes as he looks at the taller man. The former imposing figure looks suddenly shy and unsure.

“That is, if you want to see me again. I will stay out of your hair and not cause you any trouble if you tell me to.”

Ryan feels suddenly like he missed something, but the quiet nature of the man is somehow embolding him. He reaches out and grasps the man’s sleeve, tugging until he’s looking at Ryan again.

“What’s your name? Your... actual name, I mean.”

The stranger smiles.

“You may call me Shane, if you like.”

“Shane.” Ryan repeats, daring to smile. “I’m Ryan. And I would hope that you and your friends help us against this... mess.”

“Tyranny.” Shane suggests and Ryan nods. They look at each other for a moment longer, before Shane stands up and pulls his hood back on. From where Ryan is sitting, he can still see the man’s face and that the smile hasn’t faltered in the least.

“Turn around and go back home to your family and your village, Ryan. I’ll make sure the Sherrif and his men don’t bother you. If everything else fails, I‘ll send you a friend, so you and your people can hide. We have a few spots that are unknown to the Prince. The woods are bigger than he accounts for.”

Ryan swallows around a lump in his throat. He feels like he should express his gratitude or say something, maybe ask, but he only nods and keeps his eyes on Shane as he slides down the cart.

“Wait-” He says, as Shane turns back to the treeline. The man pauses and glances over his shoulder at Ryan.

“If I wanted to seek you out... how can I-”

The man is back on the cart with three long strides of his even longer legs and he hovers over Ryan for a moment as he slips something into his palm. Ryan looks down. It’s a silver ring with a round crest, one of the old families of the area, one that is rumoured to have a son that recently returned to move into the service of King RIchard, only to vanish after the Prince took control.

“You-”

“If you go to the edges of Sherwood and call for the merry men, they will find you. Show them this and they will bring you to me.”

Ryan looks up in time to see Shane duck in and press a kiss to his cheek, near the corner of his mouth.

“Hope to see you soon, Ryan. Take care.”

And with that, he’s suddenly gone. Ryan hears rustling for a moment and then he is alone in the path, the blocking net gone and his oxen scraping their hoofs at the ground in impatience. His cheeks feel warm and the ring he is holding in his tightly closed fist feels incredibly cold in comparison. He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and takes up the reins again.

“Okay, guys.” He says, slightly shaking. “Let’s go back home. I have to tell the others about this...”

While his beasts turn obediently and start pulling the cart back into the direction he came from, Ryan slips the ring over his thumb and runs a fingertip over it. He turns his head to look up into the trees, wondering if someone was watching over his way back home. He hopes he won’t need the help of Shane and his men, but he also hopes he might find a reason to run and see him soon.