#the bloody verdict

[consequencesofargentdawn]

In the scenario that the PCU's Alliance Bloody Verdict flagship project hadn't collapsed due to the paedophilia scandal and had got a foothold in Alliance/Stormwind roleplay what do you think the DiCU would've done about it? Didonus, Nasias etc never did like to share and they've 'dealt' with problems before.

Ultimately we are of the opinion that it would have likely ended with Stormwind RP and Alliance RP more widely being poisoned with the drama between the two groups in much the same way Horde RP has been irreversibly damaged by the PCU's long term cementing of itself across there.

[stardial]

christopher lee’s album on charlemagne is so goofy but the metal goes so insanely hard at the same time it’s kinda crazy

[lqvesoph]

Kingsday || LN4

lando norris x fem!reader

summary: when celebrating kingsday with your boyfriend lando ends with a small injury, and a call from his boss

masterlist

Your boyfriend being friends with a dutch DJ, meant one thing: party, party and party. Especially on Kingsday, a day where the dutch people celebrated the King‘s birthday, or got drunk on random boats driving down the channel of Amsterdam.

You had arrived about two hours ago. Lando immediately joined Martin at the DJ desk whereas you went to get some drinks for the two of you.

Now two hours later, Lando was still with Martin, or so you hoped because you actually haven’t seen him in over 30 minutes.

"Y/n!! Y/n come here!", a voice that you recognized as Martin called. You whisked around to find the dutchman waving frantically.

You frowned and excused yourself from your conversation before making your way through the mass of people. "What’s wrong?", you shouted. "It’s Lando, come!", Martin yelled and reached a hand out for you to take.

You gladly accepted his help to guide you through the people and to your boyfriend. And lord, you almost dropped your glass when you saw Lando.

"Baby!", a drunken smile graced his face. But that wasn’t the only thing. Before there were glasses and a ribbon in the dutch colours but now there was a white bandage wrapped around his head.

"Lando, what the hell happened??", you called, hastily placing your glass on a table and rushing to your boyfriend.

"I’m so happy you’re here", he slurred, placing his hands on your cheeks and pulling you into a messy kiss. You returned the kiss for a second before pulling back, holding him upright and steady.

"Baby, can you explain what happened?", you tried to again, pushing back his curls. "There were SO many people", he giggled and you tried your best to stay calm and let him finish talking. "And then I tripped and then there was an elbow and glass and suddenly ow…", his face dropped towards the end and his fingers reached up to his nose.

You held his hand back. "Don’t touch, let me see", you muttered and removed the very badly done bandage. You held his chin to move his head to the sides to get a good look at his bloody nose.

"Does it hurt?", you asked, carefully touching the brink of his nose. "Nope!", Lando grinned proudly, making you roll your eyes. "Of course not, you’re drunk", you mumbled.

"Martin, can you get my bag please? It’s with Lando’s jacket behind the DJ pult", you explained to Lando’s friend who nodded immediately and went to grab your bag.

When Martin came back you pulled tissue and sanitizer out of the black bag and cleaned up the blood around Lando’s nose. "Are you like a professional?", a guy asked, nodding at the things in your hand and your firm grip on Lando’s chin. "Almost", you chuckled. "I’m studying medicine."

"Yeah, she’s gonna be a doctor!", Lando called proudly. "Shh", you firmly said snd squeezed his chin. "It doesn’t look broken, maybe bruised but you‘ll be fine", you delivered the verdict. "You‘re the best, thank you. I love you", Lando mumbled, leaning forward to connect your lips again. A few "Aww"s were heard around you which made you smile just as Lando‘s phone started ringing.

The boy fumbled it out of his pocket, only to find his boss‘ name on the display. "Oh oh, that means trouble", Martin muttered. Seeing as you weren’t as drunk as the rest of the people around you, your reaction times were way faster. And so you reached forward to grab Lando‘s phone out of his hands to answer the call yourself.

"Lando Norris, what on earth are-", Zak‘s voice roared through the speakers. "Zak, hi, it’s me Y/n", you quickly interrupted the American who abruptly stopped talking.

"Y/n? I didn’t know you are with Lando", he sounded surprised.

"Martin invited us over-" "There’s a picture of Lando bleeding and with a bandage circulating around the internet, care to explain the situation?", Zak interrupted you, getting straight to the point.

"I wasn’t with him when it happened but according to him and various people around him, he tripped and cut his nose. Martin got me soon after and I already took a look at his nose and he‘s okay. A bit bruised, going to cause a bit of pain when putting a helmet on but he‘ll be fine. Nothing‘s broken or anything like that", you broke down the whole story to Lando‘s boss while pushing your fingers through Lando‘s curls.

He let out a sigh and you could imagine him sitting in his office chair, rubbing the side of his head. "Okay, can I talk to him for a second?", Zak said and you nodded, leaning down to Lando and handing him the phone.

"He wants to talk to you", you muttered, putting the phone to his ear. "Hiii", Lando called excitedly, making you squeeze your eyes shut with a chuckle. "Noo, I swear I‘m okay even better than okay!", he assured his boss. "Zak, I‘m fineee! Y/n is taking care of me."

"Hey Zak, did you know that dutch people-", you pulled the phone back from his ear before he could spill some stupid shit. "I‘ll get him back home in one piece, I promise", you said, ruffling his curls. "Thank you, Y/n", Zak replied before saying goodbye.

You took a deep breath and put Lando‘s phone in your back pocket. The Brit leaned his head against your stomach and closed his eyes with a content drunk smile.

"You okay?", you whispered with a smile and tapped the back of his head a few times. Lando nodded against your stomach and then looked up at you, pouting his lips to let you know he wanted a kiss. You smirked and leaned down to connect your lips.

"Okay let’s get back!", he called enthusiastically and got up, swaying a little when he stood. You wrapped an arm around his waist, doing your best to steady him. Lando naturally put his around your shoulders.

"Let‘s get you a glass of water and then we can go back, alright?", you compromised with him and dragged him over to the bar, telling the guy to hand you a glass of water.

You thanked him and turned your body to Lando, holding the cup close to his mouth. "Here you go."

Lando took a few sips and then leaned closer to your ear. "I love you", he whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. You giggled and pulled him into a hug. "I love you", you replied.

"Let’s go back to Martin", he then called, making you laugh. "Oh and can I please get another Vodka Lemon?", Lando turned to the barkeeper who looked at you for approval. "Okay sure", he said when you nodded.

"Drink up, come on, hop hop", you clapped his waist a few times and nodded to the cup of water. Lando nodded and down the liquid in a few seconds before grabbing the fresh cup and taking the two of you back to Martin.

"What do you think Zak would say if I get behind that DJ desk?", Lando asked you. You chuckled. "He already called you once today because he worried you broke your nose so I don’t think it can get much worse", you replied making Lando laugh. "I‘ll just say you forced me to", your boyfriend said before pressing a kiss to your lips and walking around the desk to join Martin.

"Joining in again?", the dutchman asked, putting his arm around Lando. He nodded and was quickly handed the headphones. You chuckled, pulling out your phone to take a video of Lando pressing random buttons on the DJ desk. He grinned broadly when he spotted your camera on him.

"Come here, baby!", he called you over, holding the hand that wasn’t holding his glass. You put your phone away and took your boyfriend‘s hand.

He turned you around in a swift motion, wrapping his arms around your neck and pressing your body to his. You laughed out loud at the action but let him sway you from side to side.

Taking a sip from your glass you carefully pushed your hips back into his. When you didn’t get a reaction from him you did it again, this time a bit firmer. "Once is a mistake, two‘s a choice", he muttered in your ear, making you giggle.

Lando moved one of his hand down to your stomach, pressing you against him while he swayed your hips. His lips being so close to your ear meant the small breathy moan that left his lips was only for you to hear.

You turned your head so your nose was pressing against his jawline. A small kiss against his skin made him smile.

It wad Lando‘s turn to press himself closer to your back. "Okay, baby, no funny business until later", you chuckled, placing your fingers on his hands on your stomach.

"Oh, so you can tease but I can’t?", Lando chuckled teasingly and turned you around. "You can tease all you want, as soon as we’re inside our own four walls", you whispered, leaning closer to his ear.

"Promise?", Lando smirked.

"Promise!", you laughed, pressing your lips on his in a soft kiss.

📍 Amsterdam, Netherlands

tagged: landonorris, martingarrix

yn: Kingsday well spent (+ Lando at the airport the next day🤭)

comments:

landonorris: Violation

> yn: U were the one who got injured…

> landonorris: U r the one who posted it

> yn: I was also the one who aided you

> landonorris: I- don’t have anything else to add🙃

martingarrix: Had the best time🧡

> yn: Thanks for having us!!

maxverstappen: Did my invite get lost orrr?

> yn: LETS GO OUT IN MIAMI!!

oscarpiastri: Mate, you looked DEAD

> landonorris: thanks a lot, MATE🙃

ybff: YOU LOOK GORGEOUS unlike a certain brit boy

> landonorris: hey!

fan: The way she still slayed at the club while Lando was wearing that neon ass hat😭

fan: All the Mclaren members laughing at sleeping Lando lmaoo

fan: Lando getting violated by his girlfriend and his girlfriend‘s best friend and his teammate😭

load more comments

[fingertipsmp3]

My favourite thing about the new Stephen King book is that it feels like a Stephen King book

[zweetpea]

Neuvillette spoiling the melusines

CW: Murder

(based on a comment thread from a different Neuvillette inccorect quote I did)

Neuvillette: Wait what do you mean two of my daughters are being prosecuted for murder.

Chevreuse: The Garde’s apprehended them for killing someone.

Neuvillette: That’s preposterous.

Chevreuse: We have several witnesses placing them at the scene of the crime.

Neuvillette: I’m holding them in contempt of court.

Chevreuse: We have a mountain of physical evidence. Charlotte took pictures of them bloodied and leaving the home of the victim, not to mention their signed confession.

Neuvillette: Inadmissible, I’m afraid that it must be thrown out.

Melusines: Nah, dad. We did it.

Neuvillette: Let the record show that that wasn’t under oath and was clearly under duress from the prosecution. I as their legal guardian evoke their right to remain silent, on their behalf.

Neuvillette: Well seems that we’ve exhausted the so called “evidence” the prosecution had. Let’s call it a day with a non guilty verdict, shall we?

(small tangent but I can imagine that the Oratrice Mecanique D’analyse Cardinale coming up with a guilty verdict and Neuvillette just kicks the shit out of it.)

[bullet-prooflove]

A Little Rough: Luke Alvez x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @Cosmic-psychickitty @anime-weeb-4-life @glazzyglaz @Rosaliedepp

It’s late and the two of you are in the FBI gym, training on the mats because Luke thinks you need to let off a little steam. One of your perps walked free from court today and you’ve been restless since the verdict came through, stalking around the apartment like a ferocious predator as Luke tried to watch the game. It’s after an hour of this behaviour that he finally snaps and tells you to grab your workout gear.

The gym is empty at this time of night which suits you because the way you’re fighting, it gets a little furious, a little bloody. Luke ends up with a busted lip and instead of withdrawing, he smiles as he wipes away the copper stain because you being like this, it does a little something for him.

When you hit the mat facedown, the air rushes out of you and Luke takes full advantage of that. He grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head, his entire body pressing against yours as he whispers into your ear.

“So, how are you going to get out of this one?”

Your arch your hips so your ass rubs lightly over his cock. He moans into your ear before exerting a little pressure, trapping you between his body and the floor. You can feel him against you, hard and urgent. You can’t move in this position and he knows it.

“You’re in no position to tease baby, remember that.” He whispers into your ear as he rolls his hips against you.

It’s your turn to moan as he keeps one hand on your wrists, the other trailing down your body until he reaches the waistband of your leggings.

“Are you going to let me take care of you now?” He asks you, nuzzling his face into the side of your neck. “Work out that frustration another way?”

You let out a needy whine and Luke begins to tug down your leggings. You can’t ask for this, the fury in you won’t allow you to give up control, not without a fight. You’re too feral to give, you need to be consumed, to be taken. You’re soaked for him when he gets his cock between your legs, your wetness smears over the tip of his cock and he bites down onto the curve of your shoulder as he enters you.

He feels you exhale at the sensation, your muscles starting to relax as he fills you all the way to the hilt. This is what you need, this sense of connection because until now you’ve been unmoored and adrift.

“Oh baby, it’s about to get a little rough.” Luke whispers into your ear before he pulls out and thrusts hard and deep. “But that’s what you want isn’t? Me to fuck those thoughts right out of your head.”

You don’t answer and he doesn’t expect you to. Instead his grip on your wrists tightens as he buries his face into your hair and begins to fuck you.

The sound of slapping skin echoes through the air, your hitched breathing, his desperate grunts. He chases your pleasure with gritted teeth because he can feel his own orgasm crashing like waves throughout his body but he’s determined to stave it off. He’s not coming until you do, that’s the promise he makes himself when the two of you get like this. You have to get off first otherwise he’s just using you and although that’s part of the game it’s not the goal. The point is to get you out of your own head, to strip away everything else and just leave you with this physical sensation.

His fingers tangle in your hair, tugging it hard and suddenly you’re tightening around him, crying out your ecstasy into the mat as Luke comes with you, spilling his release into your cunt. He pulls out and helps draw your leggings back up before he collapses on the mat alongside of you, his head propped up on his arm.

“Feel better?” He asks, his fingertips brushing over your cheek.

“Hm.” You tell him, your eyes fluttering closed. “I’m gonna need you to carry me to the car though, I don’t think I can move.”

“I can do that.” Luke promises as he leans in close, his lips brushing over your hair line. “I would do anything for you, you know that.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[daughterofcain-67]

𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 (𝚙𝚝.1)

(Soldier Boy / Ben x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Butcher, Hughie and their band of vigilantes are dead set on finding the weapon that killed Soldier Boy. With the help of Starlight they find you, a retired supe, and they seek your help although the help isn’t quite what they expected. And this was more than what you had anticipated for an ordinary afternoon on a weekday.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Minor spoilers to The Boys season three. Nothing major.

Butcher, Hughie, M.M., Frenchie and Kimiko were all waiting on some sort of file that Annie was supposed to get.

They had a new plan after all. Now that they’ve figured that the weapon that killed off the legendary Soldier Boy is still out there, there has to be some way to find out how to obtain it to kill Homelander. One step closer, right?

“I still can’t believe we’re trustin’ ‘her. She’s just another supe. What if she gives us the wrong bloody file?” Butcher asked.

“Really? You’re still caught up on the fact that she’s a supe? She’s helped us through a hell of a lot last year. We couldn’t have done a lot of things without her.” Hughie defended his girlfriend, not much to anyone’s surprise.

“You know the kid’s right, Butcher. We do owe her a lot.” M. M. Stated.

“How do we know that she’ll find anything concrete? Especially since she’s practically in a den of wolves?”

“You’ll just have to trust her, alright?” Hughie reminded the man and that was when he started to hear his phone ringing from his pocket.

“Speaking of…. Hey, Annie.”

Butcher rolled his eyes and he leaned his back against the chair. He was so tired of doing everything by the book like he had been stuck doing for the past year. He was just glad Hughie was finally seeing things his way and realizing that he was right all along. Took him long enough to realize it.

He glanced up at the kid on the phone and he looked like he was in some sort of disbelief.

“Really? And you’ve got her address? H-Holy shit! That’s a lead! You’re coming with us, right?”

“I take it she found something?” Frenchie asked after he made some sort of sandwich.

“Oy! What’s the verdict, Mate?” Butcher said when Hughie finally picked up the phone.

“Well.. Annie said that there’s a file on someone named Y/N L/N. She has a limited history with Vought and evidently Soldier Boy himself even though she wasn’t on his team. Maybe she knows about the weapon that killed him, or at least she might know of some sort of way to weaken him.” The kid said.

“Excellent! Does she know where Y/N lives?” Frenchie asked.

“She’s sending the address as we speak.”

Butcher watched as Kimiko was using her sign language to communicate with Frenchie. She still hadn’t been able to speak but at least Frenchie was learning to communicate with her over this past year, so that made things a hell of a lot easier to figure out what she’s trying to say.

“Kimiko wants to know if Annie is coming with us this time.” Frenchie translated, but Hughie shook his head.

“Not this time. Annie said she has her hands full with some kind of television show to choose the next supe going in the Seven.” He explained and Kimiko nodded in understanding.

“You don’t think we’ll actually need to take any guns or anything like that, do you? She has to be an older supe now right? Retired.” M.M said and Butcher shrugged a little.

“With these guys, it’s hard to be sure of what they’re capable of when they’re older. Supes will keep you on your toes no matter how old they are, Mate.”

“Annie said based on the file she’s neger had a violent history. In fact she’s probably had the least amount of accidental casualties in her career even today.” Hugie explained.

“Yeah.. I guess that’s fair. But let’s be smart about this, yeah? We don’t want to go in guns-blazing or anything like that. At the same time we don’t want to go empty handed either.” M.M reminded and he grabbed whatever he needed. He was always the voice of reason.

And with that, the guys made their way out but Kimiko stayed behind for whatever her reasons were, Butcher didn’t pry when they had bigger matters to deal with.

Then, after several hours of drive time, they finally made it to some cabin in the woods.

“Not bad for a retired supe.” M.M said when he looked at the place and they got out of the van that they all travelled in.

“Do you think she’ll actually know much of anything?” Hughie asked.

“Honestly, who knows. If she does, then great. But if not, then I guess we’re at some kind of loss unless we dig somewhere else.”

The group all made it to the door and Butcher was the one that walked up onto the porch and knocked on the door. They waited a few moments before the door finally opened. What they expected to be a somewhat elderly woman was not what was on the other side of the door. Instead, they saw someone that was quite young for her age, a lot like the Stormfront situation.

It was like you hadn’t aged a day since you retired and you still looked as young as you did as most of your posters.

“Um… can I help you boys?” They heard you ask.

“Yes Ma’am. You see, we’re a part of the FBI and we’re on an investigation. If you don’t mind, we’d like to ask you a few questions.” Butcher said, which honestly surprised the rest of the group how calm he sounded.

“FBI, huh? Could I see your badges, please?” You asked, quite politely to Butcher’s surprise. He thought you’d be another cocky hero that he’d like to punch.

Still, he’s learned over the years never to trust a supe no matter how friendly they are. Starlight has probably come closest to that exception. But not quite.

When Butcher gave the group the ‘okay’ they all pulled out their badges and showed you what they had. You took a look and then you nodded a little before you opened your door wider and allowed them to come into your home.

Your day had started out quiet, peaceful.

You had your own, nice, little cabin in the woods where you got a beautiful view of the mountains and there was even a creek below you that you would visit once in a while. But then, much to your surprise, you had some unexpected company.

At your door there was a tall, burley man with a beard and an accent. With him, there was a lanky looking man that was clearly trying to prove himself worthy of something, an African American man that you could tell was on the side of good and he just wanted to get back to his family, and finally there was a French man that looked high off his ass but he had good intentions.

Now they were all in your house drinking your coffee, tea for the man with the accent, and they were all in your living room staring at you with some sort of bewilderment in their eyes.

“So… what brings you folks here? I don’t believe I actually got any actual introductions from you other than the fact that you’re FBI and have some questions for me.” You said.

“Actually, Miss, my name’s Billy Butcher. This ‘ere is Hugie, Frenchie, and Marvin - we call ‘im M.M.” Butcher said and you swore you’ve heard that name before. Then it hit you.

“Aren’t you the idiot that blew up Stillwell?” You asked, honestly kind of impressed that he wasn’t still in hiding or something.

“She was already dead when I lit up the joint.”

“Uh huh… Good for you though. She seemed like a bitch on television.” You admitted.

“Wouldn’t know much about that one, Love.” Butcher continued and you shrugged.

“Anyways, an we get on with business? We don’t have a lot of time.” M.M. reminded all of the guys there and you sat down in your recliner and set your coffee mug on the nightstand.

“Well you see, Miss L/N…” Hughie trailed off.

“Ah, don’t make me feel so ancient. Just call me Y/N. For the sake of my own sanity.” You said and Hughie grinned.

“Okay, Y/N. The truth is that we’ve come across your file. And we know of your brief history with Vought, Miss Quake.” The very name of the industry made you feel sick to your stomach because of what the place has become.

Yes, you were a retired supe. You went by the name Quake because of your ability to manipulate the earth, take chunks of the ground up and toss them around, you could cause buildings to fall and well… cause Earthquakes.

You didn’t associate yourself with Vought any longer and you were glad that your numbers weren’t high enough to have that much popularity amongst citizens. That’s all it boiled down to nowadays; popularity and money.

“Yes I have a history but that was literal decades ago. I’m retired now and I like the fact that no one’s found me or knew who I was up until this point. How did you find me?” You began to question.

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that we know you had a history with Soldier Boy for a brief moment. We need to know about the weapon that killed him.” Butcher cut in and you looked down at your mug, still sitting on the stand.

“Do you even know what killed him?” You shook your head.

“I was never a part of Soldier Boy’s team. My numbers weren’t high enough to be on the team and they didn’t consider me an asset. Plus I didn’t even want to be on his team. You see what that kind of power does to people. Look at Homelander and the Seven.” You reminded.

“So what was your history with him?”

“A complicated one. He had his relationship with Crimson Countess, and he had his relationships with other girls, whether they were regulars or one-night-stands.” You sighed then you looked at Hughie.

“Never meet your heroes, kid. They’re likely just a bunch of money hungry womanizers with some kind of need of approval because they never got the attention they needed from a certain parent or set of parents.” You rolled your eyes.

“You want to know how he got killed? Ask one of his former team members. There’s Crimson Countess, obviously. Then there’s Black Noir, Mindstorm, Gunpowder, Swatto, and the TnT Twins. You never know, maybe the sidekick will be more than happy to let you know how he died. They never liked their team leader much. Hell, I bet you that lady that formed your little group knows. Oh what’s her name… Malice? Malicious? Oh that’s right, Mallory.”

“Grace? How the bloody Hell do you know her?” Butcher said, and you were finding out quickly that he was sort of the unhinged type of man.

“When I retired from Vought, I gave some information on the super to her. Things she needed before she founded your little group. She knows a Hell of a lot more than she lets on. I’m surprised she’s not dead yet just because of how much she knows and what she keeps tabs on. You admitted.

The group got up and you did as well, “I’m sorry that I couldn’t be more help. I’m honestly glad that you’re doing something about Vought. I wish you all the luck on that because you’re going to need it.” You insisted.

“Why didn’t you want to be more involved with Vought? Didn’t you like the money that came with it and everything?” Frenchie asked and you shrugged.

“Kid, everyone likes money. But what would you do to get it? Are you really going to be so reckless and stupid, kill a few innocents here and there because you know some big corporation will cover your ass on it? It would weigh too much on my conscience. And I never thought a girl like Starlight would be wrapped up in that shit.”

“Well… we’re sorry to bother you, Ma’am. Thank you for talking with us.” Hughie said yet again.

“When you do talk to Grace… ask her about Nicaragua. She’ll know what happened there.” You insisted and you saw a certain look on Butcher’s face. You were shocked that Mallory hadn’t told them anything about this.

Then you looked over at M.M, who had been quiet almost the whole time. You carefully placed a hand on his shoulder, “I’m so, so sorry about your family.”

“How did you-“

“You and your little team haven’t exactly been discreet over the past couple of years. You’ve been on the news a couple of times and I got curious about your group. The internet is a really useful place.” You said and he gave a slight grin,

“I know what Soldier Boy did, and I hate that he did it. But I also know that once you jump into this rabbit hole of vengeance, it’s awful hard to climb out and get back to the people that are still alive who love you.”

“Thank you.. But I think I’ve come a little too far to turn around now.” The man said and he started to join his group.

You watched as the band of vigilantes made it to their van while you stood at the front door. As they drove off in the distance, you pulled out a necklace from your shirt and you looked down at. You stared at the pendant and remembered the very day that it was given to you.

1984…

“I’m really getting a bad feeling about this, Ben. Maybe you shouldn’t go.” You said as you looked up into his eyes.

Ben was dressed in his uniform, all but his helmet and shield which were both set beside the door. He caressed your cheek with his gloved hand and he looked down at you.

“Y/N, what kind of a man would I be if I didn’t serve my county. I have to do this, and you know it.”

“You’d be a man taking a stand against some company that’s just in the business for the money rather than actually serving the county. You know that.”

“They’re doing this to show the military that we can be useful in battle. We can give our own troops the advantage here if we get involved. That can change the future of our military, change it for the better. Our country needs us out there.” He said, trying his best to persuade you.

“And what happens if something goes wrong? You know your little team somehow always gets you into some kind of trouble with Edgar.” You said while you looked away from him, the feeling in your stomach clearly not going away anytime soon.

“Hun, I know how to whip my team into shape. They know not to double cross me or to get us in any kind of trouble.” He told you, using his hand to make you look up and face him so he could get a good look at you.

“Now, why don’t you and I have a little quickie before I hit the road, hmm?” He asked with a cheeky grin and you rolled your eyes.

“Ben, I’ve already told you. I’m not doing anything with you until you break things off with Countess. I have some standards, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah… You have to be some kind of goody two-shoes.” He joked.

“Well no, I just don’t want to be just a side hooker. You have plenty of those and you can call me selfish, but I don’t exactly want to share.” You said and placed your hands on your hips.

“Uh huh. I just think you’re playing hard to get.” He smiled down at you and you shrugged a little.

“But you know that I can’t just break things off publicly without Vought’s say so.” He reminded you, causing you to let out a sigh.

“I’m starting to get that picture a little too well.”

Ben frowned when you looked away from him yet again. He knew that if the two of you ever did have a relationship one day, you wanted it to be one where you had him all to yourself. And he wanted that too, more than anything. And he was planning to break things off with Crimson Countess after the trip out of the country. That way the two of you could finally be together the way that you want to be together.

He let go of your face before he reached into one of his pockets and he handed you a little box and placed it in the palm of your hand.

“Just promise me that you’ll wait for me until I come home. This will be that reminder that I’ll always come back to you.”

You looked in the palm of your hand and saw the little box but that was when there was a knocking at your door, it was his teammates calling Soldier Boy.

When you looked up at him, you spoke yet again, “I really don’t think you should do this.”

“I have to go. It’s my job. I’ll be okay and I’ll be back for you.” Ben promised before he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. Then you turned around and watched him leave out of your front door.

That was the last time you had ever gotten to see Soldier Boy alive.

You fiddled with the pendant that was around your neck, admiring the fact that it looked exactly like Ben’s shield. You wore that necklace every day since he left and up until he was presumed dead, you held onto the hope that he really would come back to you one day.

You never knew exactly how he felt about you back then because in the public, he would always dote on Countess. He would say how much he loved her and how he’d do anything for you, and you wondered just how much of that was for show. You remembered how many other women that he had on the side as well and back then you wondered if he’d really give all of that up for you when you were just another low class supe.

Yet anytime you would have those doubts, you could still remember the way he would come and visit you after a tough job. There were nights where he would just sit there and hold you while the both of you would just talk. He would talk about the fact that he wanted kids one day, you would point out that he probably already did have a few kids scattered around the states. He would just laugh. But then he would say that if he were to have the family that he always wanted, you would always be in that picture. Not Countess.

Of course, you weren’t totally sure if he meant that. Especially since you saw less and less of him after you retired. But a girl could dream, right?

The day that Vought announced Ben’s death, that was the day your little world shattered. You should have tried harder to convince him to stay behind with you. His team could show the military they could be involved without him. You should have done more when you had those feelings that something would go wrong.

You tucked the necklace back into your shirt and walked away from the door, then you made your way into your little office room. There, you saw a little chest and you pulled it out from under your desk before setting it on the top of your desk. Inside of this chest were envelopes of letters you’ve written over the decades.

Each one of the letters were addressed to Ben. There must’ve been at least two hundred letters that you’ve sent over the years.

You didn’t know why you decided to write letters to a dead man. You knew how morbid it seemed but for some reason, it helped you cope. You would write on the holidays, his birthday, your birthday, and any other moment that you would think about him. You thought about him often over the years.

Since that group of men came to see you, you started thinking about Soldier Boy yet again. So you grabbed your sheets of paper, your ink pen, and an envelope before you set them on the flat surface and took your seat.

My Dearest Ben,

It started off as just another day for me. Then these men came by.

They seemed like an odd bunch of people, not necessarily men by your standards, though you are a bit of a traditionalist, aren’t you? Butcher would probably be the closest to your expectations of a man. But they were looking for the weapon that killed you. I have a hunch that they may want to use it on the hero Homelander. I told them that I wasn’t in Nicaragua. That whatever the weapon was must’ve been in Russia.

I told you that you shouldn’t have gone there. I wish you would have listened and stayed behind with me. We could have gone away and you could have retired from all of the mess Vought insisted you get into. You could have finally broken things off with Countess and you and I could have finally been together…

I miss you every day and I wish things could have been different. I wish that I could see your cocky-ass smile again, tell you to watch your mouth whenever you’d say something wildly inappropriate. I wish that I could hug you again and just be in your arms again.

Ben, sometimes I wonder if there’s any hope that you’re still out there. You’re the strongest man I’ve ever knwon and there’s no way that you could have been killed so easily. I know it’s ridiculous and there’s more than likely no way for you to be alive. Yet I still can’t help but have that hope.

You promised me that you’d always come home. I still wear the necklace you gave me every day. I’ll wear it until the day I die - if that day ever comes.

Always yours…

Y/N

After you folded the paper and put it in the envelope, you wrote the date on the front of the envelope beneath Ben’s name then put the letter in the chest amongst the others. Then you shut the chest and ran your fingers through your hair.

Whatever those men were looking for, you wondered if they would ever find it. You wondered if the weapon that killed Soldier Boy was even real or if those poor guys were just going on some wild, international goose chase if they would really end up going to Russia. You didn’t even know if Homelander would even be killable.

Whatever Butcher and his group of friends were trying to do, you hoped they would be successful. And hopefully they’d find whatever it was they’re looking for.

All you wanted was closure as to how exactly Ben died.

Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed Part 1 of this story! I’m not sure how long it will be but this first part was definitely enjoyable to write and I hope that the rest of this story will turn out to be good! I’m glad to finally start writing about Soldier Boy 😁

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @fanfic-n-tabulous @chriszgirl92 @hobby27 @nancymcl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378

[yuna542]

[3]<-

[4]

›Bad Idea<

Pairing: Hong Woojin × Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Enemies with benefits to Lovers

Warnings: 18+, explicit Smut, under 18 DNI!, Fem!Reader, suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names,, hate sex, ANGST, overstimulation, thigh riding

Word Count: 8.5k

Note: That’s the last Part of a Story that I really enjoyed writing. No worries I‘m already working on another Story about Bloodhounds. The chokehold these guys have on me is unreal… Hope you liked the Story. Comments, Likes and Reblogs are always a blessing. Stay healthy and much love! ~Sky

Summary: As Gunwoo‘s little sister he wanted you to finally meet his best friend. Unfortunately you don't get along. He gets on your nerves, you fight all the time and yet you can't stop messing with each other. One evening you get into a dangerous situation and end up bruised and bloody at his apartment. And you suddenly have to ask yourself: Why do you feel so attracted to that idiot?

Chapter 7:

The Secret

The very next evening you were waiting in front of his apartment and when he saw you there, he frowned.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, and you braced yourself from the wall you had been leaning against.

"I'm bored," you said monotonously, and his gaze was already glued to the hem of your short skirt.

"So what?"

"Wanna fuck?"

"Sure."

Already you stumbled into his apartment, ripped the clothes from each other and between heated kisses and greedy touches, you threw aside your cell phone where Gunwoo tried to call.

A few hours later you came moaning on top of him as you rode his dick. As he painted your walls white with a hand around your neck, pressing you onto his throbbing dick, you climbed off of him and snuggled up to him.

"You know..fucking you almost made me reconsider whether i hate you or not," he said, pulling you into his arms and leaning his chin into the crook of your neck as he stroked his fingers over your bare stomach.

"Oh really? What's the verdict?" you asked, wiggling even closer to his chest. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and his hair tickled your neck as he did so, making you giggle.

"Hmm..nope not even a little less."

A little offended, you turned around so you could face him. You pouted and stroked your fingers down his chest.

"Not even a little? Let's see if we can change that... Round two?"

Your suggestive smile and the way you raised an eyebrow made him smirk. The warmth in his eyes enveloped you and you never wanted to get out of his bed again if he stayed here with you.

"If you're asking me that naked and all sexy, I don't think I can resist," he replied charmingly, stroking the contours of your face as if it were an expensive sculpture he couldn't get enough of.

You winced with a chuckle as he pinched your side and pulled you closer again. Your lips collided and you kissed him until you couldn't breathe.

That's exactly how it went every time.

You were still a trio. You Gunwoo's annoying little sister and Woojin the chaotic good-for-nothing best friend. You argued, pounced at each other and never missed an opportunity to show that you didn't like each other.

But as soon as you were alone, you leaped upon each other.

The fact that your meetings were a secret between you made it even more exciting.

You slept together all the time. The smallest arguments made you tear off your clothes and throw yourselves on each other, fucking in heat and with no hesitation. It was the best sex you ever had and you were actually happy when you were with him.

However, it didn't go unnoticed for long. It started one night when Gunwoo was looking for a movie in Woojin's room to borrow from him and instead pulled out your black lace bra from between his pillows. That combined with the scratch marks that were increasingly reflected on Woojin's back, and was mockingly acknowledged by his training partners, Gunwoo put one and one together.

"Who is it? Who is this girl? Are you together?"

He had been bugging Woojin until he admitted that there was indeed someone. However, he would die before he told him that it was his sister.

"So like... Do you like her or something?", he asked out of nowhere a few months later as he helped Woojin train. He held the punching bag and looked at his friend, who froze in motion.

"Why would you think that? How could you think that?" asked Woojin, the sweat on his forehead doubling.

"Because you keep daydreaming and you barely have time outside of training... You must spend a lot of time with her," he said and Woojin shook his head as he punched a little stronger than necessary.

"We're just fucking. Nothing special. I don't even like her, actually."

Gunwoo had nodded, wanting to let the subject go. After all, he didn't understand it anyway. Woojin was so secretive that he didn't want to bug him further. Still, Woojin kept talking, between strained gasps as he punched the punching bag:

"I don't know. Really. This has been going on for a while now. The sex is incredible, but she keeps driving me crazy. We can't be in the same room without me getting restless and my heart jumping out of my chest."

The younger one pressed his lips together and tried to stifle a knowing smile. Later, as they sat together on the rooftop, winding down the day with protein shakes and fresh dumplings, Woojin said:

"I think I have come to a conclusion".

Gunwoo looked at him and asked with his mouth full, "Which is?"

"I am allergic to her"

He snorted in disbelief and choked on his shake.

"Wait... what?" escaped him between gasps and coughs.

But Woojin just nodded insistently, "I am allergic to her..."

It was almost like being in a bad romance movie. You couldn't be with or without each other. Endless arguments over the stupidest things every day, that ended with the most amazing sex every night. One minute you were ready to kill each other and the next you were sneaking off to have sex.

No matter when and no matter where.

You were addicted to each other and at this point, you could say you were only arguing and maybe even using each other just to fuck. You tried everything to keep it a secret from your brother. But you also became careless as time passed.

Finally, in addition to your underwear, he found a shirt that he had given you, where you had left it in Woojin's bed. Of course, he had recognized it immediately and before Woojin could explain anything, Gunwoo snapped and had given him a strong punch in the face.

He was furious that you had kept it a secret from him for so long and he was very very stunned that such a thing had happened behind his back all this time.

Now Woojin sat on your couch and you pressed a bag of frozen peas on the bridge of his swollen nose.

"He got you pretty good..." you said affectedly, and you felt guilty. After all, you were partly to blame.

Gunwoo and Woojin had randomly come in, Woojin had bled all over your apartment after your brother had hit him unannounced in the middle of the nose, and after that he had brought him here to have someone take care of his bloody nose and most likely to confront you.

Since then, your brother had been pacing back and forth in front of you, trying to calm himself down. He could have guessed it. At the latest when Woojin was so interested that one afternoon. Gunwoo and he had made ramen on the roof of his apartment. A little ritual where they just chatted and let the training day end.

"I can't stand it at home anymore," he sighed, dropping into the chair next to Woojin.

"What's wrong?" asked Woojin, stirring the pot.

"Y/N's girlfriend is visiting and they talk all day! Without a break and I have to listen to everything even in my room... They're so loud!", he sighed exhaustedly and Woojin patted him sympathetically on the shoulder.

"Even in the kitchen, you're not safe from the chatter... I hear things really I don't want to know."

Interested, Woojin raised his eyebrows and paused.

"What do you mean? What are they talking about?"

"Don't make me remember," Geonwoo sighed, and that's when his best friend elbowed him in the side.

"You can't start and then not tell the details."

Gunwoo stretched, groaning, as if the coming words would cause him physical pain.

"I suspected she was seeing someone. She's rarely home. Sneaks at her room abnormally early in the morning and lately she's even humming when she's working at the store. It's really creepy by now," he began, and Woojin had to bite his tongue to keep from grinning widely.

"Anyway, I overheard her talking about it with her friend in the kitchen. She said it was the best sex of her life, but wouldn't say with whom..."

Gunwoo shook himself in disgust and took over stirring the ramen. The corners of Woojin's mouth slowly lifted and he tried not to ask too suspiciously.

"Best sex of her life? That's what she said?"

"Yeah... It was disgusting enough, can you please not repeat it?" he asked and Woojin nodded quickly, though he would have loved to hear more. Inwardly, he was as happy as a little kid who got an ice cream cone as a reward for a good grade.

Even as he had beamed the rest of the evening, Gunwoo had suspected nothing. You could both see how sorry he was. He really hadn't meant to hurt Woojin. But it had also been wrong of you to lie to him for so long.

The two most important people in his life had lied to him for months and abused his trust.

"Gunwoo..." you began carefully, meekly, but he interrupted you:

"No! Don't! I'm not angry... But I can't be around you right now. I need to focus on the fight."

That came on top of it, too. Gunwoo had an important fight in the next few days that he had been training for for months.

"That's okay. Talk to me when you're ready, bro. I'm gonna go now...", Woojin said and stood up.

He looked at the peas in confusion and held the bag out to you a bit dorkily.

"You can keep those," you said in an occupied voice, and he nodded. When he disappeared through the door, you stood up too and gave your brother a worried look.

He ruffled his hair and ran both hands wearily through his face.

Chapter 8:

The Date

Over the next few days, things calmed down a bit. Gunwoo seemed to come to terms with it. At least he didn't mention it anymore. At his boxing match, you were both there cheering him on. The friendship between the two boxers was too strong after all and the they needed each other. They were inseparable and even you couldn't destroy that.

Later that day you celebrated his victory and while you ate pork belly, laughed and carelessly spent time together as before, your guilty conscience gradually faded away. Before you could say goodbye to Woojin in front of the restaurant and run home with Gunwoo, he held you back by the hand.

Questioningly, you looked up at him and that's when Gunwoo said:

"I'll go ahead and wait for you."

Gratefully, you gave him a curt look, which he returned with a smile before walking out of earshot.

"He's not mad at us anymore. That's good," Woojin said, kicking a pebble into the road.

"What's wrong?" you asked curiously, watching him squirm around for a while before he managed to look you in the eye.

"Do you want to do something tomorrow?"

You furrowed your eyebrows in wonder.

"Sure. I can come over if..."

"No... Not just to fuck. I'd like to spend time with you. Outside, get something to eat, and then go to the park?"

Completely perplexed, your mouth was open and you looked at him as if he'd suggested you jump off a cliff.

"The weather is supposed to be nice..."

Since you didn't answer, he became more and more uncertain. You looked for sarcasm or some malice, but nothing came. He just looked nervous. He cursed himself and swallowed hard as he stared at the floor. Why the hell was he so restless?

"Nevermind. That was a stupid idea. Just forget about it," he dismissed it, wanting to turn around and just disappear.

Unconsciously, you grabbed his sleeve and he turned back to you. Confused, yet with hope in his eyes that sprouted like the first snowdrops in spring.

"No. That's a nice idea. Will you pick me up?"

His face lit up and he scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

"Uh, yeah. At two?"

"I'll help out at the store until three, then we can get going."

"Sounds good."

Silently, you just looked at each other. Nothing around you seemed to matter. The traffic, the people pushing past you on the sidewalk, and even the cloud pushing in front of the sun.

"See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," you repeated, and as soon as you caught up with Gunwoo, your cheeks glowed and your stomach did flips. He said nothing. He just smiled and put an arm around your shoulders as you turned into the street to your apartment.

While you waited for Woojin to pick you up, the same question played incessantly in your mind:

Was that a date?

Something inside you hoped so. As you took off your apron and checked your hair in the mirror, you heard the store door and Woojin's voice.

You almost cried out, you were so tense.

You had put on some makeup, were wearing a red summery dress because you knew that was his favorite color, and when you heard how happy your mom was about his visit, you felt warm. When you stepped out into the store, his eyes were immediately on you. His face lit up and his eyes wandered endlessly along your curves.

"Hey..." you said a little meekly.

"Hey. You look beautiful," he said, not knowing what to do with his hands. It was weird not meeting just to sleep with each other.

"Thanks... You too," you replied, and he really did. He was wearing ripped jeans and a tank top, so you could probably stare at his muscular arms all day. Your mom was obviously surprised by the sudden niceness between you and looked back and forth, puzzled.

"Shall we?" he asked, and you nodded. Before you could say goodbye to your mom, she came rushing out from behind the counter and thrust a bag into your hand.

"There's a little snack in there. Have a nice day," she said, placing a hand affectionately on Woojin's cheek before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Thank you very much Mrs Kim." he said enthusiastically and it was heartwarming how happy he was. You knew by now that he didn't have a very good relationship with his parents. That's why he looked up to your mother and enjoyed the affection she gave him.

As soon as you walked side by side through the streets, directly towards the park, a strange silence spread. It was completely absurd to spend time with Woojin without arguing. Birds were chirping and the park was decorated like a painting in various shades of green.

On the way, you picked up an iced coffee and eventually chatted as if it were a normal thing to be together. Only without Gunwoo. It was new how much you laughed even just the two of you and before you knew it half the day was over.

In the park, you spread out your jackets and lay down under a tree, through whose branches scattered rays of sunlight hit the earth and warmed your faces.

Although you thought it was supposed to be weird, it seemed perfectly normal as he put an arm around you and you snuggled up to him. You ate the donuts your mom had packed for you and teased each other until you fought over the last piece.

He may have been a good boxer, yet you were winning. At least that's what you thought as you proudly shoved the last piece into your mouth and he watched you, fondly smiling.

After a while, watching the sky, you asked:

"What do we do now?"

He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at you.

"What do you mean?“

"I mean, what is it between us?" you asked, as that question circled you over and over.

"I think we're friends?"

Friends? Was that really the right word? Did you want you guys to just be friends? You tried to tell yourself it was so perfect. With no obligations, no extra thoughts, if everything just stayed the way it was. But it felt wrong and something in you resisted it. By now you were sure: you wanted more than that.

You just didn't know what. You wanted more days like this, where you laughed together, got talked about nonsense, looked together in the sky. You even wanted more fights and arguments, if that meant falling into bed with him at the end of the day.

"Friends who sleep together regularly?"

"Exactly..."

He played with a strand of your hair and wrapped it around his finger, lost in thought. You looked up at him and his absent look made you suspicious. It was as if he wanted to say something, but didn't dare. You intertwined your fingers with his and leaned your cheek against his chest.

A couple with a dog walked by, talking animatedly.

The sudden silence became more serious than either of you wanted. You indulged your thoughts and it was almost intimate as you enjoyed the last rays of the day's sunshine snuggled together.

"I'm sure you have other people you can sleep with. You have the pretty face for it," you said to lighten the serious mood. You didn't want to deal with what could be.

What if he really just saw you as a friend? Someone to blow off steam with, but nothing more. But then why had he brought you here today, and why had the day been so nice? Was he already bored having sex with you?

"Additionally, you're a possessive little freak, but it's very endearing," you added, and he grinned in amusement.

"But I only want you."

Stunned, you looked at him and when your eyes locked, it took your breath away.

"I've gotten too attached to you already," he added quickly.

Woojin flashed another, kindly mocking grin. Teasing, as ever. He tried to keep it light. Better that than wanting too much, knowing he would never get it.

You averted your eyes again and followed the couple, arm in arm, as they watched their dog run across the park.

Was that disappointment squeezing the air out of your lungs?

"What about you?"

"Huh?"

You played with the hem of his tank top, and he slid his hand down your sides until it was firmly against your hip.

"Why do you put up with me? You obviously can't stand me. So why?"

You didn't dare look at him, afraid he might read your true thoughts and feelings from your face.

"The sex is good," you murmured, and that's when he looked up at the sky and laughed, chuckling and your body shivered excited.

"Is that all it is? Then why did you come today?"

So many questions you didn't know the answer to. You didn't know why you agreed, you just knew you wanted to. You wanted to spend time with him outside of your bed or his room.

Why wasn't clear to you.

"I don't want anyone else either. I may have started to like you," you finally blurted out and he thought his heart would burst.

"Really?"

He looked at you incredulously and straightened up a bit. Immediately you blushed with shame. All this could not be, but you could not lie. Your body betrayed you anyway.

"Stop staring at me like that, creep!" you drove at him and pushed him so that he fell on his back and looked into the leaves with a smile.

"I don't believe it... Did Y/N Kim really just admit that she likes me?" he gasped, running both hands through his hair as if you had just revealed to him that you could fly.

Immediately, you regretted being so honest with him and rolled your eyes in annoyance.

"Shut up. I said maybe. You just ruined it again," you grumbled and crossed your arms. Why did he have to be so annoying anyway?

You felt vulnerable and that was a scary feeling.

Woojin sat up again and when he saw your tense expression and the sadness you were trying to hide behind a carefree mask, the grin died.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around you and turned you so that you were looking at him. Then he pulled you to the floor with him until you were on top of him, his leg between your thighs, pulling you into a deep kiss.

He was gentle, loving, running his hands down your sides and letting his tongue slide over your lower lip as light as a feather. By now he didn't care at all that you were in the middle of public.

Especially when your lips were too kissable and he just wanted to litter you with kisses all day.

You buried your fingers in his hair and melted in his arms as you opened your lips and he slid his tongue into your mouth. This time, it wasn't a contest. Not a race either of you wanted to win. You were moving in unison.

Your body was made for him as he curved perfectly into his. The kiss was more intimate than anything before and full of tenderness.

You could feel his heartbeat and it was reassuring that it was racing just like yours.

Between kisses, you felt him smile and pull you closer by the hips in a demanding way. He ran his hands under your shirt, over your back, so that his fingers left a trail of heat on your soft skin.

When he lifted his leg between your thighs and brushed against your middle, you gasped involuntarily into his mouth. You almost couldn't help rocking your hips just a little. You were desperate for some sort of friction and relief. Just hearing his voice, his body so close to yours, made you tense. You began to slowly rock and sway your hips, letting out small groans and pants.

As your fingers pulled at his hair, he moved his thigh teasingly and gave more pressure directly on your covered cunt. Immediately you got wet and the desire made you roll your hips against his leg.

Embarrassed, you bit your lower lip as he bobbed his leg and grinned as he felt you heatedly rubbing your cunt against him.

"Look at you... All desperate and needy. And in public," he whispered in your ear and you whimpered softly as he rubbed his thigh harder against your cunt.

To outsiders it just looked like a couple cuddling and whispering loving words to each other.

"Woojin I can't...," you murmured tensely and he watched as your lustful face tried to keep its composure.

"Take what you need, sweetheart," he murmured to you, guiding your hips against his leg with one hand. With the other he pushed your head to the side to kiss your neck.

Time began to stop and you rolled your hips harder against his thigh. The thought that someone could catch you only sent more arousal between your legs and made your skin tingle.

He was peppering kisses down your throat, stopping to suck a pretty red mark over your pulse point.

Every shift of his hips bumped up against your throbbing core and he held you tightly by the hips as you lost yourself in pleasure. Even clothed the drag on your clit was brilliant, you knew you were going to ruin your panties but the orgasm that was coming your way was worth it.

He bounced his leg just right and watched as your hips stuttered slightly and ran one hand under your shirt to knead your breast. Too inconspicuous for anyone else to notice what he was doing, but you felt every little movement so intensely that you buried your face in his neck. With a sharp curse, your hips continued to roll against those muscular thighs and your eyebrows pinched together from the unbelievable pleasure.

Your lips traveling to his collarbone as you squeezed your cunt against him, the friction on your clit sending electricity through you and as he grinded your hips intensely against his thigh a few more times, you came with a gasp and your body trembled on his.

Satisfied, he stroked a few strands of hair out of your forehead as you calmed down and kissed your temple.

"My good girl," the boxer praised, "Do you feel better now, dollface?" he asked and you nodded slowly and sunk against him. You were too sensitive now but your hips continued to roll lazily, trying to chase the powerful release.

"Thank you..." you said and snuggled closer to his chest. He bit your neck gently, then murmured suggestively:

"You can thank me at home with your sweet pussy. After all, it's mine."

You shuddered and your eyes met. Lasciviously you grinned and you played with his waistband.

"Shall we go?"

He nodded and the lust grabbed you like a tornado, pulled you with it and left no hesitation. You walked together to his apartment, your hand firmly on your ass and as soon as you were through the door, you took off your clothes.

You didn't even made it to his bed this time.

Instead, he ended up on top of you on the couch and the romantic kisses got hot and fiery. As soon as you had your underwear off, he said impatiently:

"Turn over! On all fours!"

With glowing cheeks you did as he said and before you could prepare yourself you felt a hand firmly on your hip and him slipping out of his boxers. The sight was intoxicating as you waited on all fours, ready and willing for him. Your elbows and knees were propped up to support your weight.

"Let's see how much my doll can handle."

He licked his lips before pressing his throbbing tip against your entrance, rubbing and tapping. Fear and excitement filled your body, his tip at your entrance stretched you out already and made you gasp.

"Less talking, more fucking", you snapped.

"You little bitch," he laughed and when his tip entered you, your arms weakened immediately.

Your hands gripped tense, into the padding as he thrusted ruthlessly into you, a rasping gasp escaping him.

"Asshole," you hissed, your voice trembling with pain.

"Fuck... You're so hot when you're angry," he moaned with his hands firmly on your hips, he tucked himself deep inside you, giving you no mercy with his vicious movements. Your nosy moan echoed throughout the apartment, but you didn't have enough self-awareness to stop it. His thick cock stretched out your walls so deliciously, your pussy constricted snuggly around him. He groaned at your tightness, wet and warm all around him.

His thrusts were brutally quick, as if he was trying to win a race. Or prove a point. Your eyes rolled back in pure ecstasy as you lost reality. You felt your mind leave your body. You feared your brain would melt and run out of your ears as he slammed into you from behind. You swear you were dangling above yourself. His pelvis slamming against your ass, the sound of skin slapping and the squelching sound of your aching cunt filling the room.

He noticed that you've been almost cumming all over his cock, your tight walls spasming around him. With your lack of oxygen, the world slowly slipped away from you in a lustful haze. Your pussy tightened around his length as your orgasm suddenly waved over you. Your body and mind submerges into a blissful fog as your climax surrounded him. His thrusts became chaotic and messy as he felt your cum soak his cock and you moaned his name incessantly between unholy whimpers. Heavy breathing, hearts racing, muscles trembling, and sweat glistening. You were trapped in your world of lust and passion.

He let you catch your breath for a moment as he turned you around by your hips and pressed a long kiss to your lips.

"Your perfect. So perfect for me. I want that forever. I wish I could have that forever," he said, his voice wavering dangerously.

Your hands were tight against his chest and you wanted to ask what he meant, but you didn't get to as he thrusted into you again incessantly, your nails dug into his muscular shoulders, and the way he fucked you forced uncontrollable sobs from your swollen lips.

You wanted to hide your face against his chest as the next orgasm threatened to tear you apart, but he pushed you back by the shoulder and his eyes bored into yours caught in a swirl of bliss.

"I want to look at your pretty face when I cum," he gasped, and somehow the moment felt final. There was something strange in his eyes and briefly you thought you saw sadness flashing in them.

But then the next orgasm sent you into a bright light until you saw stars.

As soon as your walls clenched around him, he gasped sharply and his lips crashed against yours. He bit your bottom lip and his thrusts became incoherent as he was about to cum.

Simply kissing him in your dizzy state felt euphoric, your insides contracting,

„Fuck." he sucked in a sharp breath "Still so fuckin' tight for me."

You stared overwhelmed into his eyes, they were filled with so much passion instead of lust. But there was something else. Something that weighed heavier. It felt warm, loving and engaging. The word was on the tip of your tongue, but it weighed far too heavy to speak it or even to grasp it in your thoughts. It was a feeling you had only read about in books or seen in movies. Your heart fluttered, his stare was gentle yet his thrusts were rough as he came inside you and his eyes nearly rolling back. By now it felt like he knew your body more than you did. His tip kept on kissing your g spot, causing you to let out stuttering whimpers as he spilled into you.

"Shit..." he huffed, panting heavily. Your chest raised up and down, catching your breath.

Still buried deep inside you, he collapsed on top of you and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

You stroked your fingers along his back, along his tattoo, and he wrapped his arms around your body so tightly that you gasped.

"Woojin... Babe you're crushing me," you chocked and he immediately eased up a bit.

Without further ado, he turned so that you were on top of him, but continued to hold you as if he was afraid you might disappear if he wasn't careful.

He did not pull out of you. With your pussy still squeezing him and sucking him in so good, he just couldn’t.

"I don't want to lose you," he sighed, stroking through your hair. Looking at him a little puzzled, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more behind his words.

"I'm here," you assured him, taking his face in both hands before kissing him lovingly.

"Let's stay like this for a while. You feel so warm," he murmured and you nodded, resting your cheek against his chest. He seemed more affectionate than usual. You also noticed how desperately he'd cling to you: how he'd tightly hold your thighs at his sides, how his fingernails were digging into your skin, how deeply he was trying to bury himself into you. Looking at your flushed face, all tired out, you couldn't look any more beautiful to him even like this. He looked at how you closed your eyes to give your body a break.

He absorbed everything: your expression, your touch, your warmth, your moans, your pussy, and most of all, your affection was his at the moment. The entirety of you was his and his alone and he would not change it for anything.

The next time you looked into his eyes, there was this vulnerability that surprised you. He wanted to say so much and yet he couldn't bring himself to say a word.

He wanted to say how much he wanted you to be his, how much he had fallen in love with you. How he loved everything about you. Your laugh, the angry glint in your eye, every one of your strange mannerisms.

But that wouldn't be fair.

Not when he was soon gone.

Chapter 9:

The Dream:

Just a few days later, you walked through the door at home yawning, wanting nothing but sleep after a tiring late shift at the café.

But when you saw Gunwoo packing his bag through the door gap in his room, you became curious. You went to his room, jumped on his bed and watched him.

"What are you doing? Are you going somewhere today?" you asked, and he was already swinging his bag on his back.

"I'm just going to bring Woojin some things he left here and then help him pack."

Completely confused, you straightened up, slid to the edge of the bed, and asked:

"Packing? For what?"

Now Gunwoo looked at you just as uncomprehendingly.

"Didn't he tell you?"

"Told me what?" you drove at him a little more briskly than you intended.

"Woojin has qualified for the Amateur Boxing Championship in America."

The info threw everything inside you upside down.

"That's great! He's always dreamed of this!" you said excitedly. Gunwoo nodded vehemently.

"If he wins there, both of us might be able to compete in the World Championships soon. Wouldn't that be crazy?" he exclaimed excitedly and you followed him into the hallway where he put on his shoes.

"But what does that mean? When is he going to America? The competitions are taking place in a few months, aren't they?"

Gunwoo looked up at you and replied:

"He got an offer from a famous coach who wants to prepare him for it. He's already leaving this weekend."

"What?" you gasped in disbelief, your throat instantly tightening.

"How long will he be gone?"

"That's still unclear. Half a year until the competition in any case. What happens after that, no one knows yet. If he does well, he can go straight to the next competitions."

As exciting as it sounded, to your ears it was just a disaster. Stunned, you dropped onto the sofa as soon as Gunwoo disappeared. Woojin would be out of your life in just two days, and maybe forever. And he had told you nothing.

All night long you tossed and turned in your bed. Your chest ached at the mere thought of Woojin going to America. At the same time, your guilty conscience paralyzed you.

It was his dream to box in the professional league and it didn't seem so far-fetched now.

When the first rays of sunlight broke through your window, you still hadn't slept a wink. Sighing, you sat up in bed and made a decision. You had to see him. You had to confront him and ask him about it.

So you slipped into your jacket and shoes and left the house early in the morning. Outside his apartment, you took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell.

It took a while, but finally he opened the door and looked at you in amazement. Actually, you expected him to look completely sleepy, his hair a mess and sleep still in his eyes like every morning.

He was not an early riser, and yet he stood before you, alert and wide awake.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" he asked, letting you enter. In his living room you understood why he was already awake. There was an open suitcase on the floor and around it were clothes, his passport and other things. So it was true.

You turned to him with a tense heart.

"When do you wanted to tell me?"

He was obviously uncomfortable. Sighing, he ran his hand over his face and that's when you realized how tired he actually was.

"I was going to tell you... But I didn't think you'd care."

Stunned, you walked up to him.

"What, are you serious? You were just going to disappear without saying anything?", your voice automatically became louder and he stubbornly returned your gaze.

Actually, he had been incredibly afraid. Afraid that you really wouldn't care or that you were even happy when he disappeared. That would have broke him.

Since he had received the letter, he had thought of nothing but you. Instead of saying that, he shrugged.

"We're not together."

A lump formed in your throat. Did he really care that little? Your lower lip quivered dangerously, but you forced yourself to remain calm.

"Was it really that meaningless to you? Am I just a fuck toy for you that you could use at will?" you asked, and he would have loved to scream out loud. Would have pulled you into his arms and kissed the hurt expression from your face. But he was scared and frustrated.

He was afraid of what he would do if you rejected him and even more afraid of what he was willing to do if you didn't.

"Do you care, then? Didn't you just use me for your own pleasure? Or else you wouldn't come crawling back to me, begging me to fuck you so good you forget everything else," he drove at you and you took a few steps back as his jaw twitched furiously and he stepped at you.

"What do you want me to say?" you breathed, struggling to keep your voice steady.

You didn't dare give in. The anger, desperation, and frustration mingled into a sickening taste on your tongue. You didn't know why you were so angry. It only hurt to look at him. He was going to leave and there was nothing you could do about that.

"What you feel," he replied, anger reflected in his eyes as well. He hated that he felt that way. That you had done this to him.

He felt trapped in a spider web and every movement only made him sink deeper into it.

"I can't stand you," you replied, and every word hurt like someone was pressing red-hot iron against your skin. Maybe if you denied it, the feeling would go away on its own.

He came even closer, sparkling at you with mesmerising eyes.

"You don't mean that."

"You don't know what i mean," you shot back frantically.

You could see how hurt he was. But you didn't want to ruin his dream by being selfish. If you just told him, that he meant nothing to you, he could leave without wasting another thought about you and live his dream.

That's what you wanted for him and telling him the truth would only make things complicated for him.

"It's okay. Just leave! If I never see your face again, I'll be happy," you shot back at him, something inside you breaking more with each word.

"I wish i never-" but he interrupted you by grabbing your hand.

"Don't say something you don't mean. Don't you dare," he growled, desperately looking for something to prove otherwise.

"Don't you realize? This isn't working. We're going back and forth. When we're not fighting, we're fucking. It doesn't work like that. We're like poison for each other!", you retorted, the shards of what was left in your chest digging deeper and deeper into your flesh.

"You never change, do you? You never fucking change. Always so stubborn; always thinking you're right," Woojin murmured and you wanted to wrap your arms around him, tell him you didn't want to let him go.

But that would be selfish. He should chase his dream without another worry. You wanted him to be happy.

"I wish you all the best Woojin," you said, your voice finally breaking treacherously at his name. You turned quickly so he wouldn't see the first treacherous tears roll down your cheeks.

He sighed in anger before following you.

"Don't fucking walk away from me!"

He grabbed your hand and you pulled back as if he burned you with his touch.

"Stop telling me what to do!" you yelled back at him and he took a few steps back.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe all of this was a mistake. We would never work and all this is a big fucking mess. But please, before you go, tell me to my face that there's nothing between us. That I imagined all of it so I could have closure!"

All you wanted to do was cry and lash out. It felt like you were bleeding to death inside when you said:

"There's nothing there, and there never will be."

Every word was heavy as lead on your tongue and you feared your legs would give out if you looked into his desperate face for one more second. You wanted to tell him that there was so much you felt for him. That you believed you were seriously falling in love, but it would be selfish and dumb.

"All right..." he murmured, and the sadness in his eyes robbed you of the last of your hopes.

"I'm leaving now," you pressed out, and he watched as the door slammed shut behind you.

He didn't know how long he stared at the door, hoping you would come back and end the argument with a kiss, but that didn't happen.

Not this time.

Chapter 10:

The Love

With a curtain of tears obscuring your view, you stumbled home and as soon as you bursted through the door, past the confused Gunwoo, into your room, you collapsed on your bed sobbing.

Every muscle ached and you feared dying from the pain in your chest.

Putting his ear to the door, Gunwoo winced at the heart-wrenching sobs and cautiously walked in.

"Y/N?" he whispered, sitting anxiously at the edge of the bed.

You couldn't form a word, so tense was your body consumed by anger, rage, and grief. You didn't have to.

Gunwoo soothingly placed a hand on your back and pulled you closer until your head rested on his lap. Silently, he stroked your hair soothingly and was just there. Your big secure rock in the painfully raging waters. The anchor that kept you from sinking into the deep black tides of your mind.

For the next few days, you didn't leave your room. You couldn't bring yourself to touch the food your mom put on your nightstand and buried yourself under your covers, hoping you'd never have to leave your bed again.

By Saturday night, Gunwoo had had enough.

You felt the mattress beside you lower as he sat down.

"Woojin's flight leaves in an hour..." he said into the silence, as if you hadn't been counting the minutes.

"Why are you telling me this?" you grumbled into your pillow, trying to ignore the way your heart contracted painfully.

"You should tell him how you feel before it's too late."

Gunwoo's words made you look up, and as you looked at him, you realized he was dead serious.

"What, how.?“

"It's obvious. To everyone but you two idiots. You like each other and I want you to be happy. To do that, you have to tell him how you feel before he's gone."

"It's too late," you howled into your pillow as Gunwoo suddenly yanked the covers off you. The cool air against your bare legs gave you goosebumps.

"What are you doing!" you snapped at him, but he also ripped the pillow from under your head, causing your face to slam into the mattress.

"Get up! I'm taking you to the airport. Now!"

You stared at him, stunned, and slid to the edge of the bed.

"Are you serious?" you asked uneasily, and he was already tossing you a pair of jeans from your closet.

"I've never been more serious! Come on hurry up!"

So you picked yourself up, took new courage and got dressed. Excitedly, you kneaded your hands the entire car ride. At the airport, you already felt so sick that you wanted to throw up.

With Gunwoo, you ran past the many people. Like in an anthill, tons of people were scurrying around. Businessmen with suits, families with a convoys of suitcases, and groups of young people visiting relatives or were on vacation.

Hurriedly, heart pounding, you kept a lookout for Woojin, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Maybe we're too late," you gasped as Gunwoo stretched his head and kept a lookout. He was taller and thus had a better view.

But there he suddenly pointed to a counter where Woojin was about to walk through the gate.

"There he is!" he shouted. His curly head and broad shoulders clearly set him apart from the other people.

You didn't have to think for a second to sprint. Like a maniac, you pushed past the people, earning indignant stares, but nothing would stop you from reaching him.

"Woojin! Wait!" you shouted, almost running over an old man. You apologized hurriedly and kept running. He turned around in amazement and when he saw you, he took a step out of the crowd.

Your feet seemed not to touch the ground and as soon as you reached him you threw yourself into his arms so violently that he staggered back a few steps, but he held you so tightly that that you lifted off the ground.

His smell and touch glued the pieces that had once been your heart back together.

You held him so tightly and swore never to let him go. By now you had attracted the attention of most of the people around you, but that didn't stop you from sobbing in relief.

You broke away from him slightly, but only to look him in the eye. He set you down carefully and his amber eyes scrutinized you in complete wonder. You wrapped your arms around his neck and began to chatter away like a waterfall:

"I'm so sorry. I was so stupid. It's totally fine if you don't feel that way, but I'm pretty sure I fell in love with you. You mean so much to me and I can't sleep, eat or breathe without you... I just didn't want to mess up and get in the way of your dream.“

"Y/N..." he tried to interrupt you for the first time, but everything that had been building up burst out of you.

"You’re an amazing boxer and I didn’t want to make things complicated for you. Also I've never felt anything like this before and I was afraid you wouldn't want me."

"Sweetheart. Y/N?"

Sobbing, you didn't realize you were crying until he wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs and cupped your cheeks lovingly. Breathing hard, you looked up at him and he smiled warmly.

"May I say something now?" he asked quietly, and there was so much affection in his eyes that you just nodded, sniffling.

"I'm in love with you. For quite a while now. I didn't know this feeling. When I was near you I felt things I had never felt before. But now I know: I'm deeply madly and head over heels in love with you."

"Really?"

He laughed at the look on your face. You were too cute with those puffy lips, reddened eyes, and beautiful affection in your eyes.

"Yes. Can I finally kiss you now?"

You nodded and that's when he pulled you by the chin into a kiss that blew away all the pain of the last few days like a violent whirlwind. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest as you snuggled up to him and deepened the kiss.

Now you knew what this strange feeling was that floated between you like a lukewarm summer wind. It was love.

The word suddenly didn't feel so far away anymore.

With closed eyes you slowly separated from each other, smiling and savouring the moment. You blushed when you saw how many pairs of eyes were directed at you. Nevertheless, you could not stop smiling at each other.

Then an announcement rang out, announcing Woojin's flight in a few minutes.

"I have to go..." he muttered in anguish, and you stroked his chest with your hands.

"Yeah I know."

He didn't want to let you go and it was obvious how much he was fighting with himself.

"Just to make sure: You're my girlfriend now?" he asked with that typical cheeky grin.

Your heart fluttered and you wanted to squeal with delight. You laughed blissfully and overwhelmed with happiness. He wanted to bottle up that sound so bad and keep it with him forever.

"Yes. All yours..." you replied and he looked at your features dreamily.

"All mine," he murmured and pulled you by the hips into a kiss again. It was getting harder and harder to separate from each other, but you managed somehow.

"You have to go! Otherwise you'll miss the flight," you gasped breathlessly, pressing your forehead to his.

"Will you call me?"

"Of course. After all, we're officially together now. We'll cheer you on from home until you get back," you said, and along with the joy, a little wistfulness now crept in.

After all, this was still goodbye. A temporary farewell, but still devastating now that you finally stopped being stupid and found each other.

"Take care of Gunwoo for me!" he said and that's when you noticed your brother standing behind you, smiling broadly but with teary eyes.

"Come here Bro!", Woojin said then and spread an arm invitingly.

Gunwoo literally jumped into the embrace and so you three squeezed each other tightly.

"Show them and win!" said Gunwoo and you thought you heard a muffled sob.

When you broke away from each other, you all had tears in your eyes and yet you were grinning broadly.

"We see each other soon...Maybe you can visit me?" said Woojin, and neither of you would move, nodding while sniffling and pouting.

When your brother pulled him sobbing into his arms once more, you laughed softly and wiped the tears from your eyes.

Then the idiot that you somehow fell in love with turned to you again, pulled you closer by your face, and gave you one last, loving kiss.

"I love you, dollface"

"I love you, idiot"

With that, you let go and watched Woojin disappear through the gate. Gunwoo put an arm around you and you leaned your head against his shoulder. That wasn't exactly what your brother had in mind, when he wanted you two to know each other but having your best friend as possible brother-in-law wasn't that bad either.

Before Woojin disappeared completely, he saluted Gunwoo, which your brother returned with a laugh. Then he was gone and there were only the two of you again.

With a muffled sob you hid your face in your hands, while Gunwoo led you outside the airport.

„I‘ll miss his stupid face“, you cried and Gunwoo chuckled slightly.

He shook is head and looked at you with a healing smile.

„Who would have guessed…“

The End

——

© Sky-yuna — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

@marked-unknown @littlebaby-bunbun @officialshania @choisoorin @fanaticnae @hoe4wonwoo @lola2004sworld @penny44224 @artisticbirb @amnmich @spaggedy @tasteskz-sworld

[jaskierx]

so there's been a lot of posting about things like ofmd not being a 'kind show' and no longer being 'the queer joy show' etc etc and. i just want to remind us of where everybody is in s1's finale vs s2's

let us begin

stede: stede ends s1 on a hopeful note (setting off to go get his man) but shortly prior to that he's kind of been through it (he nearly got executed and then two different people tried to murder him). stede ends s2 on an even more hopeful note, having got his man, ready to open an inn with him. verdict: slightly better off at the end of s2

ed: ed ends s1 in absolute despair. izzy has been a real dick to ed (depending on your interpretation, he's done something ranging from being a little tiny bit mean to ed to calling him a slur and threatening to kill him, but we're not having this discourse again) so now he's back in his blackbeard persona mere days after feeling some hope that he was finally free from piracy and ready to run away with someone who loves him for who he is. the last shot we see of s1 ed is him absolutely crying his eyes out in the bed nook. it inflicts d4 psychic damage on me whenever i look at it. anyway at the end of s2 he's been on an absolute journey, he's learned that he's loved, he's free from being blackbeard, he's stood beside the man that loves him and they're going to give everything a go. verdict: significantly better off at the end of s2

stede's crew: i mean. what is there to say. at the end of s1 they've just been marooned and social order on their little island is rapidly breaking down due to buttons and roach teaming up to try and eat the swede. at the end of s2 they're happily back at sea and the swede has spanish jackie to fight off anyone who would even consider having a nibble. verdict: significantly better off at the end of s2

honourable mention - buttons: ends s1 unsuccessfully trying to eat the swede. ends s2 having fulfilled his life's dream of becoming a bird. good job buttons. verdict: slightly better off at the end of s2

ed's crew: as above, the crew end s2 happily sailing away into the literal sunset. we finish s1 with jim presumably unconscious and izzy pointing a gun at frenchie. so not an ideal situation really. fang seems to be having a good time though and ivan gets killed off between seasons (rip king) so it averages out at a slightly better rather than a significantly better. verdict: slightly better off at the end of s2

honourable mention - frenchie: ends s1 hoisting his flag at gunpoint. ends s2 captaining the bloody ship. go frenchie. we love to see it. verdict: significantly better off at the end of s2

lucius: ends s1 soggy. ends s2 not only dry, but married. verdict: significantly better off at the end of s2

izzy: ah yes this old chestnut. so. two perspectives here. one is simply that he ends s1 alive and ends s2 dead. so. possible verdict: significantly worse off at the end of s2. alternatively, he ends s1 as his classic repressed self, smiling from ear to ear because ed cut his toe off and it sparked joy, disliked by the crew, resented by ed. he ends s2 having accepted himself and having experienced all the queer joy he would never have permitted himself in s1, having experienced more screentime and growth than any other secondary character in s2 (yes he's a secondary character no i won't argue with you about this), and dies exactly as he lived - being a pirate who can pull off a plan. he gets to have his deathbed deep and meaningful conversation with ed, which brings closure to them both. he gets buried beside ed and stede's new inn, on land where his grave will be tended, having been given a nice funeral by people who once despised him. so. possible verdict: slightly better off at the end of s2. he definitely seemed happier in s2, and died at peace rather than as a frothing little ball of anger, which is more than i could've foreseen in s1.

anyway. the eagle eyed mathematicians among you will notice that even if we take it as read that izzy is significantly worse off at the end of s2...

every single other character ends s2 in a better place than where they ended s1.

ofmd is a kind show that's full to the brim of queer joy. you guys are just sad that your fave died. and that's fine. the writers did a great job creating a story with characters that were so well written that people are genuinely grieving izzy's death.

but his death does not erase the inherent kindness and joy of the rest of the show.

anyway thanks for reading. i had fun playing with the tumblr post editor settings. by which i mean changing the text colour was unreasonably difficult and now i am stressed

[consequencesofargentdawn]

so i guess all the rumours about the PCU being a literal shell to funnel characters from its periphery to its core is true then?

korodothal and "elub" (oronaar and assemblage) basically have confirmed the same thing? rotating carousel of members joining, leaving within a week / logging in purely for events / no social rp allowed / guild discord|chat basically used for taking pot shots at people / massively elitist.

This has been known to us for an extremely long time. The PCU guilds (on Alliance mainly) set up by Perroy initially were largely also used to siphon members into the Horde. The only guilds on Alliance that ever had a free standing (ie not controlled by Perroy) were Holy Order of Lordain, Azure Dawn and Ardent Pursuit, of which only the last is now clinging on.

After The Bloody Verdict collapsed due to Vyst being a predator (and Perroy knowing for a long time that he was) it was decided internally that the PCU was a HORDE organisation (The Stygian Legion) and that the Alliance guilds were nothing more than NPCs for events. One of our editors at the time was a member of the Bloody Verdict who experienced the drama that spilled out.

Without Perroy or indeed any major leader left from the 'old guard' its no wonder the whole structure is unravelling increasingly at whiplash inducing speeds. Our census which will be out in the next few days may just well be the final PCU census, or at least the final one with the PCU having a shred of continued relevance on the server.

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Uncharted Territory

Billy Kimber’s Daughter

Possessive! Thomas Shelby x Reader Kimber

Summary: Your first encounter with Thomas Shelby, and your relationship between the two of you a month later.

WordCount: 3.1k

Stable, was all you could say about your relationship with Thomas Shelby. Relationships with him weren’t unknown but there were very few who stuck around for longer than just a night. Thomas was one who sought after you, after that faithful day at the Garrison; you shouldn’t have even been there but your father insisted. However he said to stay in the car and wait, after this little meeting with the man who fixed a race; you needed to get your dress for the derby the following evening. Remembering that day like it was the night before.

“Right, he’s the oldest, you’re the thickest. I’m told the boss is called Tommy and I’m guessing that’s you cos’ you’re looking me up and down like I’m a fucking tart”

The door behind your father creeks, and he turns his head before lowering it in disappointment. Thomas, Arthur, and John all move in their seats to look at the person, John put his hand on his gun belt along with Arthur.

“you’re just like your mother.”

Kimber notices their hands on their gun belts, clearing his throat and gently pulling you behind him he looks at them.

"I'm gonna have you shot against a pole if you don't take your fuckin' hands off the guns. She means no harm; just insanely impatient."

Thomas noted your small frame and waved for his brothers to stand down.

"Women ain't part of this deal, Kimber." pausing, looking back at you "You and I both know that all too well."

"So, why'd you bring her in the first place?"

"Well, I thought this bloody meeting would be over quick, didn’t I? Instead of wasting time going back home to fetch her for those measurements for the new dress for the derby tomorrow, I just brought her here. Told her to stay in the car, didn't I?”

“You said it would be over by 10, it’s 11 now!”

Gritting your teeth and biting your tongue before you said anything else, but Thomas stood up and asked Kimber to move so he could see you.

"Is this what you handle? All day long?" Thomas stares at you, eyes cold and calculating, before turning the Kimber, his voice low and dangerous."Is she with anyone?"

"Oh, bloody hell no, she's not dating unless the lad can offer her what I've given her growing up... and that ain't happened yet, has it?"

“No..no it hasn’t”

“Kimber I’ve never seen her at the races before, you hiding her?”

Kimber looked at him before smiling

"She stays put where I'm at, see? She don't get the choice to wander when I ain't around."

Clearing your throat, and standing in with your back facing your father. You spoke up about your feelings.

"‘E's fuckin' stupid, that's what it is."

"Another reason why she can’t walk around, she runs her mouth like a bloody sailor. It makes me look bad."

Kimber runs his fingers through your hair and fixed it to his liking

"Oi, what's her age, then? Legal, ain't she?"

Kimber thought about it for a second, before nodding and saying you’re nineteen.

"Aye, you reckon you can handle her, lad? I'm warning you, she may seem calm now, but she ain't one for stoppin' and listenin'. It's like there's no brain up there, I tell ya."

You bit your tongue before deciding it was worth it.

“I have a fuckin' brain, I was top of my math class”

"Sweetheart, I'm just givin' you a hard time about it. I know you're extremely smart with numbers, but actin' proper, is where ya’ struggle."

“Should I meet the description of what you want in a partner, then I shall court her to seal this deal. Sound like a plan?"

Thomas sat back down his chair and pulled out a cigarette and lighter then lighting it.

“It'd be a smart move, but it's her call. 'Cause this is for your gain, not mine."

His eyes fixed onto yours

"Tell me, love, what's your verdict?" Thomas exhales smoke slowly, his gaze unwavering, piercing through the veil of the Garrison.

And the rest was history, the derby ‘date’ went outstandingly well for us. Thomas was very kind and generous with you, your father even let you and him walk around alone instead of being cooped up in the box you normally sit in. The deal was agreed upon after that day and he could see I was delighted to have someone different to talk to besides him or the maids. The most memorable thing of that day was the kiss you shared after he said goodbye to you, it felt real and intimate and not like it was false. Thomas learned you really loved riding horses, painting, and of course cooking. Meeting him felt like putting the last piece of a puzzle together.

Stopping by the Marquis Pub on your way home, well Thomas’s home. One of your favorite bartender Nicolas Tennant was in that pub and you loved talking to him about your relationship with Thomas and how it was going. You felt like celebrating for an odd reason but why ignore it.

“Ello’ Nicolas how’s the family doing?”

Nicolas looked up and stuck his head out from behind the bar top, with a great big smile that could cut through paper.

“Oh, miss Kimber how are you doing today?, and the family is doing well”

“I’m feeling really grand to the point where I feel like celebrating”

The both of you chatted and caught up with each other’s lives and then you asked;

“Do you happen to have a bottle of red wine and Irish whiskey?”

He smiled at you once again before nodding his head and turning around to head to the back of the pub. Suddenly, you felt a sense of despair and pain looming over you and you turn around to see a man who’s about a foot taller than you and drunk.

“I’ll pay you £10 to have you for the night, come on baby what’do ya say~”

“No, thank you. I’m not one of those”

“Every woman is if you pay them enough, come on..”

“I’ve said no! I’m seeing someone!”

"Oi, come on now… I'm tellin' ya, I'm taller than 'im, stronger, faster, and bigger, yeah? Jus' give me a chance, love. Why you wastin' time with 'im? I got the money. Don't be daft, let's 'ave a good time, eh? You won’t regret it, I swear!"

Taken aback by this statement you leaned into the bar top, but you couldn’t move any further. The man wrapped his hand around your waist and brought your hips against his. You put your hands up against his chest and pushing away from him.

Nicolas walked back to the bar top with the liquor in a brown paper bag. Shocked by the sudden change in the atmosphere he spoke up;

“Are you fuckin’ suicidal mate?, that’s a Kimber!”

The man pushed off of you and stepped back, beads of sweat started to roll down his face. He immediately looked at you and got on his knees to beg for his life. It was truly disgusting, you felt dirty. The man noticed your face and decided it would be better if he just left and he did, leaving the pub. Looking back at Nicolas he was sweating as well, he knew that his life was on the line since this happened in his presence. He puts the bag with the bottles on the counter and then says;

“Now, it’s on the house for your troubles..”

“Oh, you really don’t have too, but can I borrow your phone in the back?”

“Sure go right ahead”

The adrenaline rush of what just happened was still rushing through your veins, felt like an adaptation of a stroke mixed with a heart attack. The feeling of being in a state where you couldn’t defend yourself was playing on loop, reminding you that you’re weak. Picking up the phone and sitting down on the desk in the dark and dimly lit back room picking up the receiver and dialing Cheshire 9210. The phone rang twice before picking up and on the other end was Thomas.

“_______ where are you, e’s everythin’ alright?”

“….there was a problem with some guy and-“

You could hear Thomas’s breath exhale when he heard that, cutting you off he asked in a tone that was masking his true nature.

“_______ what’s the man’s name?..”

“I don’t know the man’s-“

You heard a door creek and looked in the sound’s direction, it was Nicolas; apparently he was leaning against the door and pushed it open. Red in the face he looked at you.

“His name’s Lenny Davis, he’s one of my regulars”

Smiling and mouthing the word thank you before waving your hand for him to go away.

“It’s Lenny Davis..”

“Alright, that’s all I needed”

Thomas hung the phone up, you sat on the desk for a couple of minutes before hopping down and heading back into the public space. Nicolas looked like he was already writing his last will and testament. Bless his heart you thought, his pub was a lovely one; maybe you could have him spared since he had spoken up to the man.

“Stop, calm down..I won’t let Thomas go this far”

You said while pointing around the pub, the Marquis was a lovely pub and you loved talking to Nicolas.

“Your all too kind to be in this town”

“I know..”

You stood in the front driveway, just standing there for a bit while look around at the cars to see whose missing. He was..great. But it wasn’t all bad at least you knew Ada was there. Oh how you loved talking to Ada, she could understand the feeling of being a Shelby and having eyes on you as soon as you left the home.

You still were getting used to the Arrow Head House, it was a bit bigger than your childhood home. You’d moved in a week after being with him. He wanted to be able to watch you more than anything. Possessive little fucker.

“_______, where on earth have you been?”

“Ada! Oh it’s so good to see you!”

Ada opened her arms and walked over to you, giving a big hug.

“Whatcha’ got in that bag?”

She asked while pointing to it.

“Whiskey and red wine”

“Did yah buy it?” Ada started to walk into the hallway making a signal to follow. “You know Thomas doesn’t like when his woman buys things for him that he can get for himself..”

Pausing and placing the brown bag with the bottles in it on one of the hallways side tables.

“That’s the fing’ i got ‘em on the house”

“How did ya’ fuckin’ do that?”

“Thomas didn’t say anything about my whereabouts?”

Ada rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“That’s the fing’ you know they don’t tell me anythinf”

Sighing you picked up the bag and pulled out the wine bottle.

“We can mull it over with this, because yah gonna need it.”

“Alrigh’ I’ll be in the den waiting for you..”

Time passes by and eventually you come down the grand staircase in a set of nightwear that had been embroidered with little roses. Thomas got it for you. You joined Ada in the den.

How many of ‘em left?”

“Obviously, Thomas but John, Arthur, Finn, Micheal, Isaiah and Jonny Dogs..”

Ada took a sip of wine, letting it mull over in her mouth.

“What fuckin’ happened?”

You smiled and held I finger up while taking a sip of wine as well.

"I was at the Marquis, fetching the whiskey and wine, and while I was waiting, some drunkard named Lenny Davis started pestering me. I felt utterly disgusted with myself because I could have called out for help. But he took me for a prostitute and kept pushing, relentless. It wasn't until Nicholas returned and shouted that I was a Kimber and a Shelby associate, that Lenny finally backed off."

Ada’s eyes went wide for a moment, before she took another sip of wine.

“Yeah, he’s fucked..”

“You swear they didn’t say anything to you before they left?”

“_______, honey I love you a lot but I told you what I know..which is nothin’..”

Ada stood up and held her finger up before the wine glass down and disappearing into the hallway, you heard her rumbling footsteps as she came back to eyesight. She had a small pink little box with a ribbon tied in a bow around it and it was white.

"Oh, how could I forget. Your father paid a visit earlier to leave a gift for you. He stayed for a little while but then left with them once Tommy got off the phone wit’ yah.”

Ada handed you the box and you placed it by your side.

“He joined them…?”

“I know right, it felt odd seeing ‘em all, for one reason..it looked like a circus act watchin’ pile into the car”

Suddenly you heard the unique sound of an engine purring, Ada and you froze. Looking at eachother’s eyes, both standing up. Ada picked the bottle up and poured the rest of the wine into both glasses.

“I knew this bottle wasn’t going to last this night..”

You heard the car doors shutting.

“Please don’t let there be a lot of blood on their clothes”

Ada rolled her eyes while setting the glass down.

“_______, honey I love you but you always ask for the obvious to not happen.”

“Are you sayin’ I can’t have hope?”

“Hope isn’t a thing if you’re a Shelby”

The grand entrance doors opened with help from the maids. The footsteps only got louder and louder as they all made their way to the den. You looked down at the carpet, then where they would be coming from.

"Don’t you dare come into this room! I do not want blood on my carpets! You and your lot can clean yourselves up outside first!"

Thomas spoke up with a small laugh.

"We weren't planning on bringing him in there, love. Don't worry, we'll sort it out elsewhere."

"You brought him into our home?! Look at the state of you!” then it finally registered that this man was in your home "YOU BROUGHT HIM INTO OUR HOME?!" you hissed, your eyes wide with alarm as you glanced nervously at the bloodstained men entering the house.

This man was..roughened up while they were on their way to Arrow Head..he wasn’t dead but he just..there. The smell of iron started to fill the air causing you to cough a little. Alarm bells rang through your head when you looked at Thomas..his were shaking a bit, knuckles were bloodstained. Your father stepped through the group as his looked at your face, he could tell you were afraid. Kimber fixed his shirt collar. Drenched in sweat, god it looked disgusting. Thomas spoke up and a dry voice.

"My love... he hurt you. He chose death for doing so."

"Get him out of here, Thomas! I won't have you bringing that violence into our home!" You hissed at him , your voice trembling with anger and fear.

"I'm just protecting you. None of this would be possible without me by your side."

"That's not the point, Thomas! I can't bear to watch a man die in front of me, especially not like this!"

"Alright boys, take ‘em to the basement. turning to look at the empty wine bottle and then Ada. Ada, I recommend you leave me alone with _______”

Thomas stood in the dimly lit room, the weight of his actions hanging heavy in the air. His love, shaken and wide-eyed, had just seen the aftermath of his brutal world—a world he had always tried to shield them from. The tension was palpable, the room thick with the scent of blood and the echoes of violence. Seeing the fear and distress etched on their face, Thomas felt a pang of guilt. He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, a stark contrast to the chaos around them. “Look at me.”

"All I ever wanted was to protect you, love. Everything I do, it's for you."

"Thomas... you frightened me. You know I can't bear seeing what those men look like after you've dealt with them."

He gently reached out, his calloused fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. With a tenderness that seemed almost out of place for the ruthless leader of the Peaky Blinders, he guided you into his arms. “It’s alright,” he whispered, cradling their head against his chest, his hand moving to stroke your hair in a rhythmic, calming motion. Thomas took a deep breath, his own heartbeat steady and reassuring. “You’re safe,” he continued, his tone firm yet comforting. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Not ever.” He paused, letting the silence stretch for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.

“I know what you saw was…horrible,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “This life, it’s not what I wanted for you to see. But sometimes, it’s necessary.” He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze intense and sincere. “I need you to trust me. To believe that I’m doing everything I can to protect us. To protect you.” His hand continued its soothing motion, petting your hair as he drew her even closer, creating a cocoon of intimacy amidst the chaos. “I would burn the world to the ground before I let anything happen to you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet each word resonated with fierce conviction.

In the embrace, he allowed you to lean into his strength, to find solace in the arms of a man who, despite his ruthlessness, loved you with an intensity that defied the darkness surrounding them. The world might be brutal, but in that moment, with Thomas holding you, you found a sanctuary where fear had no place. He cupped your face in his hands, his touch firm yet infinitely gentle. The roughness of his palms contrasted with the softness of your skin, a reminder of the harsh world he inhabited and the tenderness he reserved solely for you. His thumb brushed lightly over your cheek, wiping away the trace of a tear.

“Look at me,” he whispered, his voice low and steady. “I need you to know how much you mean to me. More than anything.”

With a final, reassuring stroke of your hair, he leaned in, his breath mingling with hers. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and filled with a thousand unspoken promises. His lips moved over yours with a tenderness that belied the brutal world outside, each kiss a silent vow of his love and his regret for the pain he had caused you. He poured everything into that kiss—his need to protect you, his sorrow for your distress, and the fierce love that drove him to such lengths. His hands slid to the nape of your neck, holding you gently yet securely, as if anchoring you to him in the midst of the turmoil.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath coming in steady, calming waves. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he murmured, his voice rough with sincerity. “But I swear to you, I’ll always be here. Always.” In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of what had happened, the kiss was a beacon of their connection, a testament to the strength of their bond amid the darkness.

Author Notes:

I made the little pictures and added smoke along with the little sparkles! Oh my gosh it’s so freaking cute!!

Please don’t harp on me for the phone number and yes it’s at the arrow house instead of the beginning of where they stay, Thomas just made bank after you became a couple.

Love yah!

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Order in the Court - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

An impromptu confession...

Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the hour is late. The day is spent. There are verdicts yet to pass. But it is time for you, as the bell tolls, to weigh the truth on its sliding scale of good and evil, and render judgment on the man and woman who, together, wedded forces and birthed a revolution.

Wedded?

Beg your pardon. That is a premature metaphor. The timing's not quite right.

Allow Silco, first, to summon his last witness to the stand. The one who stands by him, still. 

Sevika: please rise.

Introductions are hardly necessary. Most of the courtroom are already acquainted with her, Zaun being such a small city and all. If there's still lingering confusion over her identity, permit him to offer this small synopsis.

Sevika is the Eye of Zaun's XO. His second-in-command: stalwart right-hand to the loose cannon of a left.

Madam, please state your full name, for the record.

Sevika Mitra.

And where were you born, Sevika?

The Fissures.

And how long have you been here?

All my life.

What do you do for a living?

I fight.

And what, exactly, do you fight for?

For Zaun.

Only Zaun?

For Zaun... and for him.

You mean the Eye?

No, not the Eye.

Who, then? State his name for the record.

Sil.

The courtroom grows restless. The crowd stirs. Ghosts have that effect.

That's what dear old Sil is now: a ghost. That's to say, no longer corporeal. A pity. He might've made a more sympathetic defendant. Certainly, a more attractive one. Leather pants and a pair of twinkling blue eyes work wonders on a tough crowd.

But Sil—like the rest of 'em; good riddance to the lot—is gone.

The court must make do with his proxy: a shadowy wretch with the sinister thinness and ruthless ambition of a knife's edge. The two-faced serpent, thrice-damned in the name of Janna, who slithers at the heart of this tale.

You, ladies and gents of the jury, know him full well. You know his skulduggery, you know his sins, you know his sentence. You know, too, that it cannot be commuted.

But Sevika, standing tall, isn't here to testify on the proxy's behalf. She's here to plead for the absent: the ghost in the machine.

And her plea, ladies and gentlemen, is this:

Spare the proxy, so the ghost may live.

A bold assertion. But Sevika's a bold woman. A life-bitten beauty, all burnished bronze and brazen black. She keeps the surface of herself hammered flat. No cracks; no tells. But the longer one looks, the more one sees.  Her hardness hides a story. So, too, does her habit of standing in doorways and hoarding space around her body.  She doesn't simply stand her ground. She owns it: every square inch. 

Trespass at your own risk.

Silco, the proxy, has trespassed. More than once.  That's how he likes it: seeping into the cracks, and claiming them for himself. He claims Sevika, too, and she lets him. His favorite spot is forty-five degrees to the right. That's where her silhouette holds its place. Always a half-step behind him; just barely in his field of vision. Always within arm's reach, when the need strikes. Like a gun stowed under the table, or a dagger holstered in the thigh.

A cold comfort, but when your calling is violence, that's the most reliable kind.

Within Silco's expensive portfolio of assets, he'd list Sevika high on the priority register. As a worker, she's ruthlessly pragmatic—the type who poses common sense solutions to problems big and small. As a second, she is diligent in her duties—working as the Eye's social ally on the streets and handling his myriad affairs behind the scenes. As a woman, she is a bulwark of strength, with a ferocious temper that can reduce lesser men to ash.

Mind you. These are defense mechanisms, not character traits.

Revolution is bloody business. Sevika knows that she has only her instincts to trust. Those must be well-honed, lest a lapse in judgement put the entire operation at risk. She's got to be a bitch, and she's got to be a dragon.

But even dragons have their raw spots.  The rawest are the most closely guarded.

Take her left arm. To some, it's a disfigurement. But if that's all they see, they're missing the bigger picture. Her arm's a chronicle in three-acts. A symbol, foremost, of service to a cause. But also: of sacrifice to a higher calling.  And, lastly, of a vow: sealed in steel.

It's a vow that's kept her swinging for years, until the last shot's fired, and the last gasp's gone, and the last drop of victory's been wrung from the feeble, flailing fist of Fate.

It's her arm. But she'll use it for Zaun's sake, to the bitter end.

Zaun's, and Sil's.

What, Sevika, was the nature of your relationship with Sil?

I was his comrade.

Comrade-in-arms? Or partner-in-crime?

Both.

Were you lovers?

Yes.

Are you and the defendant lovers now?

More.

Explain yourself.

Ask the smirking jackass at the defence table.

Please, madam. Let's keep things civil. Though, it must be said, the defendant does appear rather pleased. There's a stack of papers in his hands. He's shuffling through them like a deck of cards: a crisply efficient thrrrrrrp, followed by a neat stacking, and a fluid two-fingered split.

One by one, he deals the papers out for the counsel's perusal. All the while, his mouth cuts in a slow, private smile.

One sheet's a license, signed and dated. The second's a newspaper clipping. The third, an ultrasound.

What, Madam, is the meaning of these documents?

The bastard's taunting you.

Taunting the court?

Yeah.

What gives him the gall?

Principally, he's a sadist.

Secondarily?

He knows a wife can't testify against her husband.

Madam Sevika—are you saying you're wedded to the defendant?!

I am.

The courtroom erupts. The jury's up in arms. The judge is apoplectic. His gavel's pounding like a war drum. Wedded? Did you say, wedded? This is highly irregular. What is the nature of the evidence? Is it authentic? When did the nuptials occur? Who recorded the proceedings? Where were the vows exchanged?

And, most importantly, why didn't anyone notify the bloody court?

Why, indeed.

The defendant's smirk spreads into a full-blown smile.

[hug-your-face]

Read the interview excerpt or listen to the whole podcast at the link, y'all. Some truth bombs:

In her book on totalitarianism, Arendt talks about the rise of an “unorganized mass” of “mostly furious individuals” with nothing in common except for their contempt for the present order.

She calls this “negative solidarity” and it’s the raw material of totalitarianism, because it’s a world without connection and friendship, where the only basis of collective action is some kind of awful combination of anger and desperation.

She noticed that it’s really easy to work with people’s anger and whip up a mob, and she has this great statement in the book about the alliance between the mob and the elite -- how the elite are quite good at spotting and using the hate that’s already there.

It is things like unemployment. It is things like not being able to keep your home. We’re not just talking about some kind of ennui here. This is raw, real stuff. It’s easy to raise a mob in these conditions. You’re starting with real anger. She says at one point that "Totalitarian politics is a verdict against the world in which people are forced to live." It’s a slap in the face. It’s a finger up against the real conditions of existence.

Totalitarianism works through cynicism. It’s crucial because it allows people to say, “They’re all the same, it’s all bullshit, isn’t it? It’s just politics, isn’t it?” What cynicism allows you to do is be gullible and disbelieving at the same time.

Arendt thought that before a totalitarian ideology could overwhelm reality, it had to first ruin people’s relationship with themselves and others by making them so skeptical and so cynical that they could no longer rely upon their own judgment. So there’s that part of it.

[As an antidote] she imagines thinking as much more than an activity. She imagines it as a way of being. The real gift of thinking isn’t all the great ideas and grand theories that intellectuals come up with. The gift of thinking is that as long as you’re doing it, you have the capacity to judge.

Thinking, for her, is radically democratic. A lot of the time, we all have the capacity to think. We walk around the street. We lose ourselves in our thoughts, and being lost in thought is a gift for Arendt. She says this isn’t time-wasting. This isn’t frivolous. This is what thinking is and we need to take it seriously. I’m not clicking on a bloody “like” or “dislike” or I’m not following another pattern. I am thinking for myself, which, when things are really bad, is all we have.

She argues that without the ability to think, there can not be any judgment. When she really saw that is when she looked at the Nazi officer Adolf Eichmann in Jerusalem in 1961 in the courtroom: a self-important man chattering away, talking self-importantly, not even realizing who he was facing — the relatives and survivors of people he had murdered — and he just spoke in cliches. The longer she listened to him, the more obvious it became that his inability to speak was totally connected with his inability to think, namely, to think from the standpoint of someone else.

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

LIZZ LIZZ LIZZ YOU HAVE TO HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE!!

What about a yandere! Prosecutor was Detective! Darling~ (oooh I'm so excited about this one). This detective darling is a clumsy yet smartest detective in the state. Our yan! Prosecutor is said to be the best in the country (i hope you know the difference b/w prosecutor and attorney for this one). Once they are teamed up against some big bad mob boss (you could do a lore here with mafias you have already AHHHH). And our yan is just so into his darling... but he doesn't like how others seems to be on her mind more than he'd like them to be (honestly he just wants his cute lil' detective all for himself) so, oops he commits a cute little crime as well (torturing and killing no, mutilating criminals who he previously worked against is not so cute if you ask me, but it's all fair, they were criminals to begin with darling!) and drops hints for his lovee~ a new serial killer is on rise and that taking a toll on darling but he loves it now he has her full attention, one way or another hehe :3

-🌼

yandere! male! killer! Prosecutor x fem! Detective! Darling

oh god I have to bend over backwards to remember what's the difference. It's been quite a WHILE since I did anything related to Law, and ace attorney. But I hope I did well? ASdhaKLJd I dunno.

ALSO, I LOVE THE IDEA! Mystery/Detective ain't for me though, so I did scrimp some ideas off of the floor since it's kind of hard. But anything for you, 🌼anon!

Another long fic as sorry for being away for so long!

Yandere! Prosecutor name: Yuta

TW: Drugs (I don't know if there's an irl drug with the same symptoms I mentioned, since i'm only writing what I can think of.), Bullying

Blaring red and blue lights, mismatched furniture upturned and wrecked beyond recognition, a house filled with used and unused drug paraphernalia, blood, bullets, the sing-y gunpowder smell, and the aftermath of a bloody confrontation between two opposite ends of the society.

The Silas mafia just had their hand on a powerful drug, and is spreading them throughout the population without any kind of remorse. It's a hallucinogenic that can induce a coma like state to a human, giving them the most ecstasy in their dreams, and making them yearn for more once done. But what's detrimental is that it wears out their nervous system and cardiovascular system when long term usage is induced. It can also cause schizophrenia, paranoia, and loss of appetite. Inducing a zombie like state.

A man in a simple turtleneck, pants, and black polished shoes entered the scene, asking the policemen and investigators on what they have discovered. They all bowed down their head respectfully, and told him that they have caught the right hand man of the Silas mafia, making him smile in satisfaction.

It's unusual for the prosecutor to be so invested in a case, let alone be in the crime scene itself. But the personnel just cooked it up to him being the best prosecutor there is, so he needs to be there personally on what could be the biggest case yet when it comes to the underground illegal scene.

Yuta, a man regarded as the absolute order in this city. Whichever case his hands pry on, it is sure and secured that the guilty verdict lands on the hands of the judge and the victim, along with the not so poor suspect.

Although, he doesn't take on cases that he knew the suspect isn't what they seem. They may be the actual victims, or that the investigation isn't complete, or that the charges are too small and needs to be delved down further.

When asked about the cases he doesn't take, Yuta would only say that it's his gut feeling. And his gut feeling never betrayed him. With this, he never lost a case.

Outside of the court of Justice, Yuta is your typical boy next door. Nice, friendly, a gentleman. Smart beyond his years AND handsome? It's no wonder people feel at ease with this stable man.

Although, one could see that he's actively putting up barriers. It's as if he doesn't want to get involved with people at all. That also meant dating is off of his calendar.

When asked once more why, he says that being a prosecutor, nay, a servant of the law is a dangerous career for a lover to have, let alone a spouse. He can't forgive himself if something happens to his family if they got harmed because of his work! He has received death threats and actual attacks, so he can't bare the thought of somebody getting wrapped up in this convoluted profession of his!

Yada yada yada...

While the people cried out for the soft heart that is Yuta, Yuta sighs and rolls his eyes.

In reality, people are such a hassle and a bother to his work.

They're distractions, and nothing but a liability. And if they actually end up dead, he'll be the one to blame.

Besides, they're not...

Yuta's eyes landed on you, the detective assigned to this case amongst others also. His heart raced a bit, eyes softening.

"Hey there detective~" A slightly flirtatious voice only you caught wafted from his soft lips. His eyes bending ever so slightly.

Oh, how in love he is with you.

You flinched a bit, not expecting Yuta to be here.

"Oh! Yuta! Hi..." you cleared your throat, a bit awkward. He gave a small smirk at your awkwardness, clearly enjoying the uncomfortable look you gave him.

"Hey, i'll be actively present in the case this time around." He said in a slightly happy voice. Making sure you're the only one who caught the happy tone. "And i've decided to help in the investigation."

With Yuta making sure that his voice was loud, everyone heard it. They almost stumbled back from shock.

THE Yuta personally helping this case?

Was this actually okay?

So many questions popped up in their head, but all Yuta could see is you, squirming under his heated gaze.

"So, let's go, partner?" He whispered sweetly, his hand gripping your forearm a bit too tight with his body pressed against your back a bit too intimately for your taste.

If only he didn't confess the night before...

Yuta came from a distinguished family of a long line of law personnel. Attorneys, judges, prosecutors, some even ventured to politics in general.

Despite being geniuses in their own accord, Yuta is a different breed. With no failed cases under his belt, and his arguments that is guaranteed to win with no hiccups, he's a one of a kind in his family.

In a law firm in which he oversees with his parents that was passed down from generation to generation, he made sure to only hire the best of the bests, nobody that will ruin the reputation of the law firm.

They also frequently partner with police investigators and detectives to help the cases they got. And made sure no conflicting cases will be at the law firm to avoid a hostile environment between prosecutors and attorneys.

This made an environment in which allowed for these people to advance and grow in their career without any kind of external stress except in their cases.

Back when Yuta was still a wee lad in law school, their University had a Criminal Justice course. At first, Yuta didn't care much about other courses, but had to see if his future possible partners are... Nitwits.

So, walking around the crim building was a bit jarring. Since it also houses future police and soldiers. Once he got to see the crim justice students, only one student caught his eye. And it's your friend.

She's smart, almost too smart. She's acing every test left and right apparently from the records and intel he got. Pretty also, she was your course's muse even due to how perfect she is.

Yuta was still quite naive back then, and was thoroughly impressed by her skills and intelligence that he decided to get to know her more.

Your friend, Shiela, was ecstatic. She knew who he was and how prestigious his family was. She's boastful and arrogant, knowing she bagged the heir of a highly valuable law firm.

The next few months was painful to say the least.

Shiela was never your friend.

She was your bully back in elementary and middle school. And both of you met up in University with how the both of you enrolled in the same course.

Unlucky you, you got snatched away from making potential friends when she latched her slimy and grubby hands on you. With her not knowing anyone, she gripped the arm of the only person she knew.

And of course, she never learned.

It's hypocritical how she's in criminal justice when she herself can be a potential suspect of a bullying case if you succumbed to her wiles. Of course, you never did, but...

She used you to make her homeworks, projects, even pinched you to help her every time she can't answer oral recitations for you to discreetly coach her. If you got caught trying to tell her the answers, she would blame you, saying that you were coaching, and insulting her intelligence by coaching you.

You never had the backbone to retaliate really, seeing as years of being bullied by her took a toll on your mind that you became instantaneously submissive to her.

But all of these arrogance ended when Yuta exposed the truth.

A bullying case, you were forced under Shiela to do her bidding, dealing psychological damage and trauma. Forcing you to do her activities, physical assault, and is essentially tormenting you for years upon years. Yuta, the man who got together with Shiela to expose her wrongdoings, was actually more interested in you, the real genius amongst the two. And for the first time, he cannot just let this slide.

The case got to court, and Shiela was expelled from the University with no recommendation and a smeared portfolio, alongside paying a hefty sum of fines with being imprisoned for three years.

It was wild, considering most countries doesn't account jail time for punishment, but Yuta made it possible.

You owed Yuta your life. And the both of you became unlikely friends.

Friends... Yuta doesn't like that term when he's utterly in love with you.

He saw you as this clumsy and poor girl who needs his help. Someone so helpless and so meek that his heart aches whenever he thinks of you being under that wretched bitch for so long. You're so smart, yet so dull against the scorching and burning light of Shiela. It's no wonder that you were dubbed as her moon. Always catching her light and not emitting your own.

Well, so what? The sun is irritating to him, and the moon has always been a sanctuary of peace in his mind. And he'll always have that sanctuary in his heart, and close to his body.

Yuta is patient when it comes with you. Helping you regain your confidence and strength, alongside your self-esteem. He had this sick sense of gratitude and ownership on you due to being the one to liberate you from your bully. Now, if you would just let him love you romantically, it would be nice.

But he knew he had to wait. And wait he did.

Years later, with him being this bigshot of a prosecutor and you a genius detective who solved mysteries and crimes in a jiffy, both of you were unstoppable.

Not until one day, at Yuta's birthday, he invited you for a simple drink in his house while eating steak he personally cooked.

This was no foreign event. He usually invites you to eat or drink whenever you or him got a successful case under the bag. And you thought this would be no different, but...

"Yuta... Not there..."

"Not here? Then how about..."

"Ngh~!"

"So this is your sweet spot?"

It was just supposed to be drinks. That's it.

But now you're under him, moaning in delight as he touches and pleasures you in ways you don't even know. Of course you won't know. He made sure you never got lovers after all.

A drunk confession from his lips got pass him when the both of you were just talking about life, and when you got to the topic of romance. You wanted to experience it, and Yuta got frustrated on how you were so dense!

So he confessed, and took your sweet lips upon his.

God, was it a night to remember for the both of you as the line between friends, coworkers, and potential lovers got extremely blurred.

But you, sweet you, decided to run away from his condo the morning after that. You just can't handle the fact that Yuta confessed his feelings for you, and slept together in a drunken one night stand.

And the rest is history, with you being awkward with Yuta. After all, it was just yesterday when that happened.

And Yuta didn't like that.

With this new case taken over by you and Yuta, you had no choice but to talk with him.

You really tried to ignore him, but what can ignoring do when he's always at your beck and call when you tripped over something, lil ol' clumsy you?

His arm would wrap around your waist with a little squeeze on your stomach, sending shivers down your spine.

"Darling..." The new pet name made you gulp from how... Right is sounded. "Be careful, right? We're dealing with the mafia here. Especially someone of the statures of Silas. We can't just bring them down that easily."

You nodded frantically, wanting to get out of his grasp.

You knew how dangerous it was to go toe to toe with the mafia. Especially if tit's the stature of the Silas with the lead of Rowan. You also knew they're involved with their rival family, the Underworld ran by their boss, Hades.

Despite being just there, they can't just arrest them. They're too powerful for their own good to just barge in their territory. There's also the fact that they effectively influence the economy which made it harder.

Right now, you just wanted to solve this drug case.

At least, with this case, your mind will be occupied with something other than Yuta, right?

Days passed, weeks even. And you got to busy with the case that you neglected Yuta. You were so focused in solving the over drug usage within the city, and the drug distribution within the country.

Especially with the Silas' right hand man being a scapegoat, and is actually an innocent man all along.

You were getting frustrated by this.

They were so close, yet so far. You can't find the lead at all on where the factory was.

Even just the factory and the destruction of it was going to be enough!

While you were pounding on your poor little brain for more clues and outcomes to come out, Yuta was coldly watching.

At first, he thought that finally confessing would make you finally his. Your attention on him only, your pretty little mind just consumed with him wholly.

But this case...

This case was something he didn't expect at all.

Sure, he partnered up with you to make sure the drug case got solved, but you were so focused on the work that you forgot he actually confessed to you. You even ran away from him!

His jaw ticked, leaning on the door frame as you slaved away for a case that took your waking days.

You even forgot to take care of yourself...

And oh, was he angry at the fact that...

You pulled up suspected photos of Rowan and Hades, still not sure if these guys are the right at all. You were obsessed with solving this case. Absolutely devastated for the people who got victimized by the drug. Yuta clenched his teeth in anger, his eyes hostile.

He doesn't like that other men occupied your mind.

Your mind should only occupy him.

And only him.

"What do you mean there's a serial killer on the rise?"

A shiver shot up your spine when you heard the news from your chief.

He rubbed his chin and nodded, a bit troubled and disturbed.

"Yes, a new serial killer." He gulped, his face pale. "I can't believe in this day and age where it's impossible to hide things we still have this cases."

"When did it start? The killings?" You asked, now a bit more interested but absolutely terrified.

"About a month ago. The dead people had carvings in their skin. A heart..." The chief placed down pictures on your desk that made you gag. These were graphic photos of the dead bodies with markings on them. "They have a heart carving with the letter f/l/n (first letter of name) in it."

You gritted your teeth, cringing a bit. Really? It had to be the first letter of your name too?

This is just getting creepier and creepier.

"Pattern of victims? Or are they randomized?" You asked, trying not to look at the photos.

"They're actually criminals, with random innocents sprinkled through. But those innocents are from... Well, personnel from the law and criminal justice." You groaned. Great. This is gonna be harder than you thought.

You didn't want to be involved with this case at all, but the fact that the victims are criminals meant that this is gonna be a case that will be sensationalized to bits. Also, there's a high chance you're going to be the next victim due to the serial killer also killing other law personnel.

It also didn't help that the prosecutor in most of the cases these criminals are from...

"Yuta... Are you alright?" You asked him, a bit spooked.

Yuta was hospitalized from shock. He also almost became a victim. A huge gash on his chest. The signature killing move from the serial killer. And a heart carved on his thigh.

You felt sad for him, and anger arose. Who is this fucking serial killer? Why was he or she attacking them?

You almost had a melt down thinking about how Yuta almost died.

On the other side, Yuta hid a smile from you, a shiver of pleasure running down his spine. Here you are, being so consumed by worry and rage. He should have done this earlier!

Killing was also really fun! He got to kill the people that annoyed him greatly and mark them cutely with a heart.

Somehow, the world is in his favor as he never got caught.

Aw, poor little you, so consumed by him in your waking days and not those disgusting mafia men.

He raised a hand, carefully caressing your hair as you started to weep from the shock that he almost died.

Oh, don't worry, he's not that stupid to slash too deep!

Seeing so many murders that he personally became the prosecutors from, he knew what to do in order to escape jail and being caught. The perks of knowing too much really.

Should he ask you to help him solve the serial killer case? Maybe add a little bit of weeping and begging so you would focus on him and him only?

And, who should he frame?

A name came to his mind. Shiela! Of course. He should plan out who will be the next victims, and paint the picture in which Shiela got jealous of you being successful and wanting revenge... He'll personally be the prosecutor and make sure to rig Shiela's attorney...

And as the piece de resistance, he's sorry but he had to make you the last victim. He'll have to think how to frame Shiela in the same place as you, her slashing you in the way he did, then he would come to the rescue at the pretense of visiting your home to drink... Shiela, so consumed by her delusions would try to kill you but he saves the day.

But how would he do that?

Well, he already kidnapped Shiela, and the drugs! Yes the drugs. It did have hallucinogens in them after all. All he had to do is brainwash Shiela while using the drugs, then wait for the right time.

Oh how exciting!

And while that wait, he held your weeping form close, kissing the top of your head with a sadistic smirk.

This is gonna be fun.

[gvilty-c0nscience]

2023: „Murder suspect in the largest criminal investigation walks free — no evidence found.” • „Breaking news: Carter Murdock is free again! Will the only suspect in the murder of James and Eden Murdock gets away unpunished?“ Although the heir to the international fashion company Murdock Design could not be framed for any evidence, he is still considered guilty in the eyes of the public. How can it be that him holding a bloody knife in the middle of the crime scene is not enough evidence?

CARTER MURDOCK; Although he could not be found guilty of the murder of his parents, the public's verdict was clear despite his release after just under a year in prison: he was guilty. After all, it was not the first time his name had been mentioned in a murder case. Persecuted and hounded by paparazzi, the Murdock son can hardly enjoy a private moment except at the huge family estate - now his alone. But Carter makes no effort to clear his reputation. So how much is there to the allegations? Is it true that he simply had delusions of grandeur and wanted to be at the top of the family dynasty? How can you tell the difference between victim and murderer when it's all and nothing?

rules to follow: reply according to vibes, blogging almost daily. + be patient, everything is still under constructions. preferred german and english, 21+, tw: drug use, blood, murder, violence