#fired a gun and never broke a bone

[pennyellee]

CHAPTER VII - mágoa

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of God, violence, bloodshed, history class on lacrimosa yall, nudity, blood, manhandling, slapping, mentions of suicide, gun use, genitalia cupping, gaslighting, anxiety, strong language, threats, misogyny, old social norms, lies-lies-lies, bone crunching, physical violence, suicide attempt

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 12K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VIII

mágoa (n.) a heartbreaking feeling that leaves long-lasting traces, visible in gestures and facial expressions

A pinch of sadness went through Y/N when she heard his words. She gave herself to him. Without any fight, simply accepting that this had to be done for her to build a strong base where he would trust her enough to let his guard down. After this day, her mind was barely holding up, therefore she went down the hill willingly rather than by force.

Her eyes were about to close slowly when he was taking the white sheet on which they consummated their marriage. Although her eyes were narrowed, she saw a significant portion of it being painted red with her blood. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she laid there, boring her eyes to the ceiling of the room rather than perceiving the reality.

The flames of the fire danced and flickered, casting a warm glow upon their entwined bodies. They laid there — he basked in the afterglow, and she in her own sorrow. He was caressing her hair while she laid on top of his naked torso where he moved her to rest just a moment ago, trying to not think about what had happened. She cared no more. Her mind and body were exhausted. Yoongi put a soft kiss on her forehead before he broke the serene silence.

“A bath, shall we?” Her body felt the mix of exhaustion and vulnerability as she went to get up, a soreness radiated in between her legs. Y/N could not wait till she would spread her limbs in the hot spring water. Yoongi gently swept her to his arms and carried her out of the room.

The corridor was softly lit by lanterns, their warm glow casting a gentle illumination. Paper windows filtered the moonlight, creating patterns of soft shadows on the wooden floor as he was taking her to the spring. He hoped it would ease her pain and relax her muscles so he could be a little more selfish and take her again and again until dusk.

Her naked nipples stiffened and reacted to the sudden change of temperature. Yoongi was yet again trying to control his urges to press her against the wall and take her from behind. But he knew better. She was sore, vulnerable, and he knew the time was ticking and soon a bigger wave of realisation would hit her.

The steam from the heated water mingled with the crisp air, creating a comforting atmosphere that embraced them. She could feel the cold wind hitting her body before Yoongi stepped inside the natural bath surrounded by ancient rocks, swiftly setting their bodies into the hot water. Y/N breathed out from the sensation of the water balming her sore muscles. She took a moment to embrace the peacefulness of her surroundings, momentarily forgetting the true nature of her situation and to whom is her naked body pressed to.

Her eyes snapped open when the nerve hit her senses, breath hitching in her throat, tears still struggling to dry on her cheeks. An epiphany. She tried to pull herself away from him, covering her chest when he pushed her against him even tighter.

“None of that, my love,” he whispered into her ear, nabbing at it and pecking her head. “You are finally doing so well, baby,” he spoke, his lips still pressed to her hair.

The soothing warmth of the water against her skin and the unsettling reality of her vulnerability in Yoongi’s embrace — it overwhelmed her from every perspective. His words, though tender, served as a reminder of the power dynamics that governed their relationship. She felt a surge of frustration and sadness, a silent plea for autonomy in a world that seemed determined to deny it and her resilience was coming back to life again.

“Yoongi,-” she said urgently, her voice carrying over the soothing sounds of flowing water. “When is it going to happen?” Y/N inquired, lifting her head up, her eyes searching for answers.

“It is already happening.”

The night had unfolded in shadows and whispers, and as the moon’s soft glow seeped into the bath, reality grew more elusive.

The infamous Yakuza, believing themselves five steps ahead of the Min clan, found their fortunes turned by the cunning moves of the young Kkangpae. The cards he tossed when luring out the enemy’s leader were not in their favour. Cut the snake’s head and it will die; Yoongi wished to see them all perish.

The headquarters of the Japanese clan, once a fortress of power, now stood vulnerable in the absence of its leader. Yoongi’s calculated manoeuvres had left them exposed, ripe for his seizing. From Japan to the north of Korea, with Hong Kong looming as the next conquest, the throne beckoned to him now.

The Kkangpae had played a dangerous game, and the stakes had never been higher. He realised this when the enemy held his beloved, poised to snuff out her life with vengeance. That urgency drove him to expedite matters. Within an hour, united soldiers of the Min and Wang houses moved to three different locations, armed and prepared for the Yakuza’s onslaught.

Yoongi knew the moment they set foot on his territorial grounds their intentions were not congratulatory. But one of the decoy. On that note, another three units secured warehouses, guarding the ammunition and the snow, as they called it, to maintain prosperity.

Y/N had underestimated him and the measures he would take to ascend the ladder. No man had dared challenge the Yakuza and lived to tell the tale, let alone dismantle the cruel syndicate over the span of a single lifetime.

The last of them were already en route to join infiltrators in Fukuoka, where all of Yamamoto’s warehouses lay, along with Tokyo’s headquarters. The command was clear: at the stroke of midnight — fire.

“Is Mother with Bó Chéng and Xiaoli, safe?” Her voice trembled. Y/N is no fool; her gut warned of temporary alliances and impending bloodshed once the Yakuza descended the stairs. This time, between Wangs and Mins. Yoongi never confirmed such a cruel assumption, yet, she knew.

He nodded solemnly, understanding her concern. “They are safe, love. I made sure of it,” he reassured, his voice a comforting anchor amidst the chaos. Yoongi’s eyes held a mysterious depth as he spoke, and the weight of his words lingered in the air.

The Kkangpae had unleashed a force that even he hadn’t fully anticipated, and the consequences were now playing out in real time. His vision was clear — The Min clan, a rising phoenix from the ashes, disrupting the status quo, plunging the city into disarray.

For years, no Korean clan had dared confront Japan’s Yakuza, the threat of annihilation keeping them in check. Hence, Korea’s underworld always stood divided until the former Kkangpae Min initiated revolutionary acts against both southern and northern enemies.

As the First World War unfolded, Yoongi’s father saw an opportunity to cover the blood traces left behind by the clans on the battlefield. The alliances formed, the battles fought—all of it became obscured by the larger narrative of global conflict. The revolution against both parties became a rallying cry for those long oppressed by the Yakuza.

The clan of Min knew if they wanted to succeed in this power play, attacking the northern foes was first in order before they could stand a chance over Yakuza and their international allies.

The war with its sweeping chaos and diversion, became a canvas for the Mins to redraw the lines of power. The world may be at peace now, the syndicate clans were nowhere near the fine line. A Cold War between the fighting clans arose and took its place now that they could not horrendously murder each other without drawing the attention of the upper world.

Not today.

His father’s revolutionary act set the stage, and Yoongi intended to finish it. With satisfaction, he watched as the wheels of change turned, irreversible.

The war ended over two decades ago and yet Yoongi still expected the unexpected. Hong Kong sought alliance with Tokyo. A marriage would seal it. Lineage was sacred, heavily valued. The syndicate, with its watchful eyes and ears attuned to the pulse of the underworld, murmured in speculation. Rumour was spread of Wang Zemo’s eldest daughter to be betrothed to Yamamoto Itsuki, the Yakuza’s heir.

Yoongi had just celebrated his 18th birthday when the murmur began. The girl, barely a decade old, promised to the Yakuza. No official betrothal could happen as she was still too young to be wedded.

Years went by and when she reached the 18th year of her life, Yoongi anticipated another bloodthirsty war to begin now that the arrangement could take place. But nothing happened. Holding her portrait in his hand, looking at the black and white photograph with a fresh cut on his eye, imagining how cherry red her lips must be and how he is going to drown in her eyes once he sees them for real. He saw opportunity, a golden ticket in this dangerous game.

Therefore, before her twenty-first birthday, Yoongi was already ahead of Yakuza, sipping tea with Wang Xiaoqing, the Triad leader’s older sister. His intention was clear from the beginning — the young gal in the portrait, undyingly beautiful.

Instead of wielding guns and knives at the northern enemy in China he was resolute in overthrowing the Triad by this calculated move of taking her and creating a powerful alliance in order to end Yakuza’s reign. He could have had any woman from his clan, but no woman ever spiked his interest as much as Wang Y/N.

He settled his mind on the path God presented him. He played his pieces, aiming for the Triad’s allegiance. The men of the Wang Triad, fiercely loyal to their established traditions, would not willingly follow an outsider — with or without war. To secure his grip on the Triad’s allegiance, Yoongi needed more than a coup; he needed a legitimate claim to leadership.

He played his pieces, aiming for the Triad’s allegiance. The young Kkangpae began his cockiness by taking the young woman to keep at his premises right before Yakuza would announce the engagement and followed the union.

Yoongi, the architect of this narrative, understood the power of perception. A move that seemed personal had far-reaching implications in the complex web of alliances that governed the criminal underworld.

The elderly woman was the smartest human he ever met. As she also held a mutual disdain for the house of Yamamoto that ran deep, an animosity fuelled by years of oppression and subjugation. The Yakuza’s supremacy over other clans, their unabashed acquisition of shares, land, and women, irked her. It was a political dominance that had cast a shadow over both Seoul and Hong Kong’s criminal underworld for far too long.

A shrewd strategist that Wang Xiaoqing was, recognised the potential for a successful revolution in Yoongi’s carefully laid steps — the blockade of docks, the seamless integration into the Yakuza’s business affairs, the subtle theft of opportunities, and the meticulous infiltration into their other operations—it was a game of chess played with finesse. Lastly, his determination on not letting Wang’s oldest daughter marry into Yakuza and form an alliance that could be a threat to his own kin.

Taking her niece would be a move that went beyond the surface, resonating with the desire to break free from the chains that bound them to the Yakuza’s dominance. Nobody dared to take what Yakuza claimed as theirs. Until him.

In the dimly lit warehouse where he was solely because the Luen’s shipment of ammunition to Taiwan got rampaged by Yakuza soldiers. Their attack on the shipment had disrupted his plans, leading him to intervene personally.

The captured Yakuza soldier, now a pawn in this unexpected confrontation, was brought before Yoongi for interrogation. The improvised setup within the warehouse served as the backdrop for the intense questioning that aimed to unveil the motives behind the Yakuza’s brazen attack that Yoongi already knew. It was their way of sending a message, a warning to the clans to not climb the ladder too high.

However, that’s not what aches Yoongi’s heart whenever he remembers that night. It was her, clad in her signature red qipao, in a dishevelled state, most likely chilled to the bone, lip split open.

The date on which Yoongi would arrive to collect her was settled two weeks from that day, but there she was, standing in the warehouse, most likely looking for a shelter from the cold.

In the silent exchange, Yoongi saw a glimpse of vulnerability and strength, a combination that both intrigued and captivated him. She looked straight to his eyes for what felt like hours without flinching away. The spark he felt that ignited between them in that warehouse would become the member of an unspoken understanding—a realisation that love, in its rawest form, had found its way to his heart.

He recalls how his breath stammered when he saw her for the first time. No matter how long she’s been running, no matter how the chilly wind ruffled her hair — she looked magnificent. All the love letters scribbled down that he had never sent to her were hidden in the drawer of his desk. He might give them to her one day once she will be ready to reciprocate his love.

Yoongi was convinced that it was destiny that she came upon the warehouse, as if God was leading her to his arms, where she belongs. At least according to the young leader of the clan. Y/N’s arrival to his land was unexpected and it certainly changed the whole trajectory. And that was one of the pivotal moments when he decided to rethink his steps.

This unforeseen encounter planted the seeds of a different kind of connection, one that deviated from the cold calculations of alliances and power and dark intentions loomed over the young Kkangpae Min.

Yoongi used to see marriage as a means to an end, a pragmatic choice made in the pursuit of power and influence. The emotions that typically accompanied such unions were to be set aside in favour of the greater goal at hand.

But her presence started to overshadow the original intentions of the alliance. How she fought him, stood her ground — all just made him want her more. As he found himself captivated by her company, the cold calculations of the former plan began to waver and he was decided.

The Yakuza’s move was thought-through, he did not expect any less—a challenge issued with violence and bloodshed and in the midst of celebration, chaos erupted. Min with his bride long gone to safety. Masked assailants, clad in the insignia of the Yakuza, stormed the hotel and one would think this is the end. But this conflict was nowhere near the grand finale.

At the time of the awaited attack of Yakuza men, echoes of screams of agony and crackling fire were far too loud. A clear symbol of the arising power of the Min clan. The two generations of Yamamoto's men, father and son, now lay as nothing more than ashes.

The night, which should have been a tender moment of intimacy, became the stage for a chilling chess move. As Yoongi and Y/N shared the vulnerability of their union, the Min clan, under his orders, descended upon the Yakuza with a relentless fury.

The sound of gunfire and explosions echoed in the night, a symphony of retribution that played out against the backdrop far away from their marital chamber. While Yoongi claimed the innocence of his wife, he orchestrated the downfall of those who dared to challenge his dominion.

The puppeteer of this grim performance, ensured that their legacy was erased, their power dismantled, and their grip on the criminal underworld shattered. In just one night, the war that lasted years ended.

Infiltrating the Yakuza was a meticulous plan, and his true intentions were hidden even from those closest to him. As the Min clan annihilated the Yakuza in cold blood, the night drew to a close and only those who would bend the knee and pledge loyalty were spared.

The night had witnessed the birth of a new order and the song of the dead echoed whilst the former empire shattered into pieces.

Morning arrived with a soft glow, painting the room in shades of muted light where Yoongi’s fingers traced gentle patterns on her naked back.

“Breakfast is ready,” he whispered, pressing a lingering kiss on her forehead. She nodded, wordless.

The table boasted an array of dishes, their enticing aroma filling the air. Yet Y/N could not eat yesterday nor today, the food simply did not go down her system.

Yoongi’s gaze remained fixed on her from time to time, while he was reading today’s paper the maid delivered together with the breakfast. His eyes, like a silent observer, bore witness to the aftermath of a night. Y/N’s eyes were bloodshot, cheeks stained with dried tears, her neck bearing bruises. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon her, yet he held onto the hope that all would settle now.

Yoongi sighed and reached into the pocket of his black vest.

“I have not read it,” said he once they finished eating breakfast and sat down in the lounge room. Y/N’s eyes moved to meet him, anticipating his next step. She did not want to speak to him. She did not want to look at him nor she did not want him to look at her.

“I appreciate that,” said Y/N, avoiding his eyes. Yoongi sighed again, reluctant to relinquish leverage over her, yet compelled to address the matter at hand. Deep down, he hoped the contents of the letter would bring her solace, perhaps even warmth towards him. Now, he stood as a fool in the pouring rain.

He carefully handed the letter, urging her to open it.

“Thank you,” she whispered, tearing open the envelope and extracting the yellowed paper within.

She looked at Yoongi one more time, and when she saw him spreading out the newspapers, she was glad he gave her at least some degree of privacy. Her eyes fell upon the cursive symbols of her beloved aunt’s handwriting.

The memories flooded back as Y/N read the words on the aged paper, transporting her to a time when life was less complicated. Yet, she remembers clearly the moment when the complications started to appear. She read the words, screaming at her whilst detailing Wang Xiaoqing’s declining health, her world halted.

The air grew heavy with a mix of medicinal scents and the weight of impending loss. Her aunt, a pillar of strength, lay frail on the bed, and Y/N’s heart ached at the sight.

As she recalls her last moments with her while reading the neatness of her handwriting Y/N finally sees the truth. Her breath caught in her throat, vision blurred by tears. Clutching the paper tightly, she read the words repeatedly, struggling to accept their meaning.

“I need you to understand, my dear,” her aunt’s voice, weakened but filled with determination, echoed in the room. 

“There are things, things I have kept from you to protect your mind and soul.”

Her aunt reached for her hand, the warmth of their connection grounding them in that vulnerable moment. The intricate dance between clans, the bloodshed, and the sacrifice her aunt had made to shield her from the harsh realities of their world.

“But it seems that my judgement was clouded—” In that moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, as if bracing for the revelation that would reshape the very foundation of her understanding. The vulnerability in her voice resonated with the unspoken sacrifices made for the sake of protection. Or at least that is what she thought she was doing by allowing Min Yoongi to take her into custody and use her as a leverage over the clans in negotiation of dominance.

“We do not have much time I fear,” her aunt continued, urgency etched into her every word. Y/N held her hand tightly, afraid to let her go.

“Once you burn me to ashes, I need you to run and not look back, Kai will help you get away—” a strong cough interrupted her speech and Y/N rushed to get her some tea to ease her throat. A bony hand landed on her forearm, stopping her in motion. Her eyes watered again at the sight of the state God let her aunt get in. Her fingers were turning purple and Y/N knew what that means. Oxygen was leaving her body and the end was near.

“Auntie—” she went to protest, at the time not understanding why she needed to run in the first place. But she listened carefully to her aunt closely when her sore and painful voice mapped out her next steps.

Back then Y/N wanted to believe it was a sacrifice born out of love and the desire to break free from the cycle of violence that had ensnared their family for too long. And her aunt presented her a chance to not be in the middle of the fire.

Peace was a fragile illusion. Min Yoongi may be a titan among the outside world, yet within the confines of his own home, his dominion was about to face its greatest challenge.

Yoongi, engrossed in his reading, spared his wife the intrusion of his gaze, allowing her the solitude to grapple with the weight of her aunt’s revelations. Not having a clue what the dying woman could write.

The revelations echoed in the silence of the room, and when Y/N finally looked up from the letter, her eyes met Yoongi’s. The vulnerability in that moment transcended the complexities of their current situation, forging an unspoken false connection on his side rooted in pain and the unravelling of hidden truths. In a burst of fury, she lashed out.

“You’re a fucking liar.”

An anger radiated from her, the heat rushing to her head. Yoongi’s eyes locked onto hers; he didn’t flinch at the sudden eruption of anger — it was nothing he didn’t already get used to. Instead, he folded the paper with deliberate care, setting it aside.

“Am I?” His response was laced with a hint of amusement, a calculated provocation that stoked the flames of her anger.

The contents of the letter, as it seems, are not what he hoped for. Nonetheless, he wondered whether he would fight this battle. Sooner or later she would learn the truth. It’s the timing that was not perfect and he knew it’s going to be hard to put the fire out.

“You manipulated her into agreeing—” Yoongi sucked the inner side of his mouth and released it with a loud click of his tongue, trying to compose himself for what is to come as she now knows.

“—with a choice, dove. A difficult one, yes, but she made the decision on her own accord,” Yoongi interjected, his voice maintaining a disconcerting calmness.

“You lied to her!” A wry smile played on Yoongi’s lips as he met her accusing gaze. Y/N was hanging on the farthest end of the branch and soon enough she would fall. Yoongi’s gaze remained fixed on Y/N, his calm demeanour a stark contrast to the storm brewing within her.

“She would not have approved if she knew of your intentions!” Yoongi leaned against a nearby table after he stood up, his gaze unwavering. He realised that what she is implying is true. But he also knew that this is not the world where Wang Xiaoqing would be stupid enough to give him her hand. She knew what it would mean.

“Power comes with a price. Your aunt understood that and made the necessary sacrifice.” Y/N scoffed at his words, incredulous. Yoongi’s response was a wry smile, a silent admission of guilt that he would never voice out.

“And what of my sacrifice? What about the life I wanted, the choices I never got to make? You took them from me!” He reached out to her, his fingers gently tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. Yoongi looked at her trembling lips and caught himself thinking how good they felt against his last night.

Y/N, caught between anger and grief, searched Yoongi’s eyes for any sign of remorse. Yet, all she found was the unwavering resolve of a leader who had chosen duty over sentiment.

Her patience was wearing thin, her anger boiling over like a cauldron on the verge of eruption.

“I did what I had to do for the survival of our clan—” she struck out, her hand connecting with his cheek in a resounding slap. Her whole body was shaking with grief, anger and hatred.

Yoongi’s head pivoted slightly at the sudden intrusion he did not expect. Yet, even as she railed against him, hitting him repeatedly, Yoongi remained steadfast. All the curse words she sent his way were only bypassing him. He knows she wouldn’t do this in normal circumstances. But to stop and think for a second — there were never normal circumstances to begin with.

“You took everything from me!” Her voice was a plaintive cry, a desperate plea for justice in a world gone mad.

“I gave myself to you!” She screamed furiously. Yoongi’s eyes, usually calm and collected, flickered with rage. She glared back at him, tears streaming down her face. The reality of her situation sunk in, and Y/N felt a profound sense of betrayal.

“You’re fucking liar Min Yoongi. You never fucking needed to-” Yoongi’s jaw tensed, the anger in his gaze burning like a smouldering ember. His calm façade cracked, revealing the storm of emotions within while she aimed to hit his face again.

“Are you done?” He forcefully grabbed her wrists, stopping her, holding them tightly while he pulled her towards him. She shook her head, trying to break free from his grasp to make more damage. Y/N refused to yield.

“Fucking listen to me, Y/N,” he spoke through gritted teeth, his voice a low growl.

“Yes, I lied to your aunt because I knew where your ambitions lay and where she wanted you to be.” His grip tightened as he continued, his words cutting through the charged air. She shook her head in disbelief, struggling to break free from his hold as he violently pulled her back.

“I knew she would never give me her blessing to marry you!” Y/N’s eyes widened with a mix of surprise and realisation of his confession, confirming the contents of the letter.

“So you fucking tricked her,” she gritted through her teeth. Min Yoongi never intended to send her overseas, just like he promised the dying woman. All this time, she blamed her aunt for choosing her path, unaware of Yoongi’s manipulations.

“I could have slaughtered the whole Triad. Think of this as me being merciful.”

The weight of his words settled in the room, a heavy silence following his chilling revelation.

“You even fooled my father into thinking this is all my aunt’s doing,-” she whispered unbelievably, her voice laced with a bitter realisation. Yoongi’s expression remained impassive, but the truth lingered in the air like a haunting melody.

“You made a promise to her that I will be safe overseas, so why am I here, Yoongi?!”

“Because I fucking fell in love with you!” he exclaimed, his voice rising, his eyes searching for any kind of emotion that would show that she understands his doings. Of course she does not understand, after all, he does not understand how much damage he has done either. He is selfish and he always will be.

“You betrayed her trust!” Y/N’s eyes, on the other hand, searched for any sign of remorse, any glimmer of the man she thought she knew. He exhaled heavily, the weight of their tangled destinies pressing down on him.

“It was either marrying you and having a legitimate claim or bloodshed. Would you rather the worse option?” Y/N’s gaze wavered between anger and hurt, her surroundings fading away.

“You justify cruelty with some deluded sense of righteousness,” she said, her voice strained from the last vestiges of her strength.

“You’re part of this world, part of my world, whether you like it or not—”

“This was never about Yamamotos right?—” She looked right into his eyes, scanning the angry red scar that ran up in his brow that he now raised at her remark.

“—you are going to break the alliance with my father the first chance you get. That is what you mean by legitimate claim, am I fucking right Yoongi?!” He clenched his jaw, frustration etched on his face. Y/N had seen through his carefully constructed façade.

“You only fucking love yourself and your fucking clan!” He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words but whence she decided that getting physical with him again is the answer — he snapped.

His hand forcefully clutched her jaw in a tight grip, just like when she first opened her eyes under his imprisonment. The wall met her back and she gave out a painful yelp. He closed the proximity to her face and spoke the words right to her ear while watching her struggle to get out of his grip.

“One of the things I love about you, dove, is your cleverness. But this little clever girl needs to finally learn her place,” he said, his words seething with control. She was whimpering in his grip that got tighter and tighter with each word he uttered.

“I took you for a wife so when I blow the brains out of your Sire’s head and take over his Triad, I will be unopposed, that is the truth, now—” Y/N’s eyes widened in both shock and fear as Yoongi’s words penetrated the air around her.

The force of his grip on her jaw made her gasp, the pain radiating through her face. The cold, unyielding wall at her back provided no escape, and she felt a surge of helplessness as his words sank in.

“Yet, out of the love I have for you, I have ensured your lovely sister will have her place within our clan and your mother will be taken care of. It’s the little boy you are afraid I might hurt, innit?” The mention of her family sent a shiver down her spine, and her eyes flickered with a mix of dread and anger.

“Well let us say, if you shall not force my hand by your shenanigans, I shall spare him.”

“You are a psychopathic monster,” she hissed through gritted teeth, her voice barely audible as his grip was not allowing her to speak properly. He chuckled, a dark sound that sent shivers down her spine.

“You were not saying that when I spilled all my love inside of your cunt, claiming you” his lips brushed against her ear as he whispered, cupping her womanhood with his free hand.

“You have no choice in this, dove. You are mine, bound by vows and blood. And when the time comes, you shall see I am the only one who can protect you—” his lips dangerously close to her ear now moved, laying a small peck on her wet cheek, right under her eye.

“—to provide for you,” his lips brushed upon her skin moving to lay another peck to her forehead. Tears streamed down her face.

“—to love you.” He finished, pressing his lips to hers.

“I wanted you from the very beginning. It was always you,—” She narrowed her eyes, a fire igniting within her despite the fear. The taste of his lips lingered on hers as Yoongi pulled away, his eyes fixed on her tear-stained face.

“—even if I would slaughter every member of your Triad, I would have spared you, my love.”

“I would rather die,” she spat at him, a small act of defiance in the face of his cruelty.

“Death is easy, dove. It’s the living hell I can create for you and those you love that should terrify you—” He traced a finger along her jaw, a sickening smile playing on his lips.

“Even the strongest wills can be broken, I still have some ways to make you obey and be a dutiful loving wife.”

“I will not become the submissive wife you fantasise about.”

But the scarred leader had a trick up his sleeve that only time will show whether she will need that kind of fixing.

“You are a challenging one, and I do love a good challenge. However, your defiance is only temporary,” he smirked, a predatory glint in his eyes.

Y/N recoiled, a sense of dread settling in her stomach. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his plans, something insidious lurking beneath the surface. The scarred leader had shown a glimpse of a darker side, a side that made her shudder with apprehension. The voices in her head never left and now they were louder than ever.

“In the end, you will crave me,” his words echoed, each syllable dripping with a sinister certainty. “—And what a good life I can offer. I have all the time in the world to make you mine. Soul and mind.” He continued his monologue. She clenched her fists, steeling herself against the onslaught of doubt and fear.

“If my mind does not betray me, I told you what will happen once you disobey me again, did I not, dove?” her heart pounding in her chest as Yoongi’s words sent waves of revulsion through her. She fought against the oppressive grip on her jaw, her eyes ablaze with a mixture of defiance and fury.

“How exactly did I disobey you, hm?” she demanded, her voice rising with each word.

His chuckle resonated in the room, and he released his hold on her jaw. Y/N slumped against the wall, gasping for a deep inhale of air. The tears blurred her vision and her head seemed too heavy. Yoongi took the little bell on the side table, turning to Y/N, a cold glint in his eyes.

“I assume, the last time I disciplined you, was not simply enough.” He carried on without taking her comment to notice. She struggled to regain her composure, wiping away the tears that clouded her vision.

His fingers toyed with the small bell in his hand, and the room seemed to constrict around her.

The sound of the bell echoed, a disconcerting prelude to what awaited her. Yoongi’s gaze bore into her, a chilling determination evident in his demeanour.

“It seems you need a little reminder.”

Y/N’s pulse quickened, her mind racing with the fear of the unknown. She heard footsteps approaching the room and her head swiftly turned to follow the sound.

“Yoongi—” she pleaded. He remained unmoved. The approaching footsteps grew louder, and a sense of dread settled in the pit of her stomach.

“I hope this will be the final lesson, dove,” Yoongi said, the edge of cruelty evident in his voice. When she saw him reach for the walther in his holster, her pleas became more urgent.

“I am sorry, that’s what you want to hear right, Yoongi? I am sorry!” she implored, her voice shaky with a blend of terror and disbelief. “I will do whatever you want, just don’t—”

But her words were cut short as Yoongi’s hand gripped the handle of the walther. The room seemed to close in around her, the walls similarly closing in on the remnants of her hope. His gaze remained cold, his resolve unyielding as extended hand with the gun in his grip aiming for the incomer sliding the hanji paper door open.

Yoongi’s gaze shifted toward the figure entering the room, and Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Panic surged through her as she redirected her plea, desperately trying to avert the impending danger. His finger hovered over the trigger. He patiently waited till the door slid all the way in before loading the gun that alarmed Y/N even more.

“Yoongi stop, let us talk—” he had to laugh at how quickly he can have her on chokehold, smothering the fire in her. He was having none of it this time.

But before she could act, Yoongi’s grip tightened on the gun, his finger inching closer to the trigger. The figure in the doorway froze, sensing the danger that lurked in the scarred leader’s cold gaze.

Y/N needed to think quickly, her gaze momentarily meeting the poor made, stopping to look her over, she gulped down. It was her. The young girl’s tears were already falling to the wooden floor once she slumped down to her knees and begged for her life, just like she did months ago near the koi pond that she almost drowned in.

“I told you the Lord has a plan—” Y/N closed her eyes shut tightly, trying to think of a way to save the girl’s life. She owes her so much already and she certainly does not deserve to die because the man cannot handle being rejected each time there’s progress within the messed up relationship he formed in his deluded head.

Her palms pressed to her eyes she breathed the air in. With a surge of determination, she stepped forward, her heart pounding in her chest. Yoongi’s gaze bore into her, his cold eyes reflecting the twisted depths of his obsession.

With a deep breath, Y/N made her move. Ignoring the fear that threatened to paralyse her, she closed the distance between them in a swift motion. Her hand reached up to cup his cheek, her touch gentle yet calculated. His gaze locked with hers in a silent battle of wills. It confused him. What does she think she is doing? The scarred leader was too selfish to stop her. Feeling her warm hand on his cheek made him lose his hardened features.

If he could rule with fear and violence, she can rule with the love he desperately wants her to reciprocate, even if it will be pretended. And pretend she planned to.

Y/N was not stupid, she knew he would not believe her one bit that she is going to be a pitch-perfect mafia wife overnight. But gradually, till she can think of a way to leave. A plan was already writing itself in her conflicted mind. For now, she needed to get the girl out of danger, and if she had to forget about where she was standing and with whom, she would. For a life that can be spared.

And then, without hesitation, she pressed her lips to his in a desperate kiss. It was a gamble, a risky move born out of necessity. But in that fleeting moment, as their lips met in a deceitful embrace, Y/N prayed it would be enough to distract him.

Her heart raced with adrenaline as she poured every ounce of determination into the kiss, willing him to succumb to the illusion of affection. She could feel the tension in his body, his grip on the gun momentarily faltering as she moved her lips against his.

Yoongi was too taken aback to react differently than kissing her back as if this was the last time he was. She used his own tactics against him, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed to pay off. Winning this round with flying colours as the gun with a swift motion was sent clattering to the floor. The sound echoed through the room.

When Y/N finally parted from him, her eyes filled with determination, Yoongi chuckled softly, the façade of affection slipping away. Yoongi took an estranged string of hair and tugged it behind her ear.

“I told you your defiance is only temporary.”

“And you just proved your threats are empty.”

She refused to let his words intimidate her, to succumb to the fear that threatened to consume her. She knew Min Yoongi’s weakness all too well.

Her — it was her greatest advantage now, and she planned to use it to its fullest extent. Her defiance was far from being temporary. One step at a time; she planned to win.

Y/N watched the falling snow from the Cadillac’s window, her mind swirling with the events that had transpired. Min Yoongi sat beside her in stony silence, still seething from their confrontation. He dragged her to the car kicking. His pride was wounded by her defiance. Again. But she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her falter, of breaking under the weight of his control.

This was not the right time for her shell to crack. He needed her composed and Y/N was not feeling like a puppet he has had made of her these past months. He overstepped the line with the knowledge that and in their world, truth can kill.

He dusted his coat and hat from snow once they stepped inside of the hotel they vacated not even a day ago. Y/N felt small once she walked by his side, not because he would intimidate her, that was never the case — her eyes creeped at the hallway where her body was pressed to the wall, strong hand on her neck.

A sense of unease settled over her. She raised her own hand to touch the still sore space covered by the neckline of her qipao, white fur coat draped around her shoulders.

His sharp eyes noticed it and for a fleeting moment he paused, his gaze softening imperceptibly as it fell upon Y/N’s form. Despite the coldness that often characterised his demeanour, there was a flicker of something akin to remorse in his eyes.

That is where Min Yoongi’s remorse lies. He did not regret taking her as wife, he did not regret all the lies, damage and deception he employed to achieve so, what he did regret was her getting physically hurt. He regretted listening to her sister when she said he should stay with the guests instead of attending to you. But as quickly as it had appeared, the moment passed, and Yoongi’s expression hardened once more.

She followed him into the dining hall, her steps hesitant as they walked side by side. The room erupted into applause once they stepped in. The sound echoing off the walls in a cacophony of celebration of the genocide they just performed.

The celebration was a mockery of the destruction they had caused, the lives they had taken in the name of power. Y/N scanned the faces in the room, searching for her family among the crowd. Relief washed over her when she saw Xiaoli, hanged on the arm of Kim Taehyung; she nodded, a silent reassurance that they were safe.

There is never a guarantee that ordinary civilians won’t be harmed as that’s how clan’s limit the possibility of attacking the headquarters which were strategically located in the heart of the city. Therefore, no assurances that innocent lives would be spared.

Her steps remained hesitant as they made their way through the crowded room. Number of men and women patted him on his back, congratulating him on the plan he orchestrated worked just right. And as she cast a glance at Yoongi, she couldn’t help but wonder whether they all would ever find redemption for the sins they had committed.

Yoongi raised his hand once they got in the middle of the dining hall, attempting to silence everyone. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to him expectantly.

But Y/N paid him no mind, her thoughts consumed by the dark undercurrents that lurked beneath the surface. She did not bother to pay attention to her so-called husband’s propagandic words to his blind worshipers. The voices in her head would outcry him or anyone else. For what little her ears caught, there was a sense of pride in his words, a conviction that they had done what needed to be done to protect their interests.

“We must remain vigilant,” he concluded, his voice a warning. “Our enemies may have been vanquished, but new threats will always emerge. We must stand together, united in our resolve to protect what is ours.” Yoongi’s gaze lingered on Y/N possessively. When his gaze fell back to the crowd, he saw his right hand man making a way to the centre, rather urgently.

“Excuse me,-” Yoongi murmured to those around him, his tone clipped as he stepped away from the crowd. He had little time for idle chatter, especially in the midst of their celebrations.

Namjoon’s expression was grave as he spoke, his words measured and deliberate. “There’s been a development,-” he began, his voice becoming too low to understand what he was saying. Y/N’s eyes flickered to all of them before they landed back on Yoongi and still whispering Namjoon.

Yoongi’s expression remained unreadable as he listened to Namjoon, his features schooled into a mask of stoicism. But as Namjoon’s words sank in, a flicker of something dark and dangerous glinted in his eyes. As Yoongi turned to face her, his gaze piercing and intense, she could not predict what was going to happen.

The scarred leader encouraged everyone to continue with celebrations with a big smile plastered on his face, his voice ringing out with false warmth and cheer. But the persona was long gone once he turned to face the group of his most trusted man.

“Tae, take Xiaoli to her room and come back, the rest, office now—” Yoongi ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

“I’m going to see Bó Chéng and Ma, Yoongi.” She announced, interrupting the stream of his command. Yoongi’s gaze snapped to Y/N, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before his expression hardened once more. He attempted to make a reasonable argument why she cannot go, but there was none, only his selfishness remained. Clutching his fist tightly, he spoke.

“Thirty minutes, then I need you downstairs.” Yoongi’s jaw clenched as he struggled to contain his frustration. Y/N nodded curtly, she knew that this is a rare occasion that he would agree without a fight.

“Dove?” Yoongi called when she turned to walk away. He hesitated for a moment, his thoughts racing as he searched for the right words. The darkness and possessiveness that loomed over him overshadowed any kind of sincerity he wished he would say instead.

“Do not make me come and get you.”

The atmosphere was heavy with tension as Yoongi sat behind his desk, his expression unreadable as he listened to the reports from his subordinates. The news of Chanyeol’s demise lingered in the air like a dark omen, casting a shadow over the room.

“Are you certain it was a suicide?” Yoongi’s voice cut through the tense silence of the room.

“They found him hanging in his cell,” Namjoon replied, his tone cautious. “No signs of foul play.”

Yoongi’s mind raced with questions. The absence of a trial meant that Chan-yeol’s fate had been sealed, his sins catching up to him in the most final of ways.

“His death was inevitable,” Yoongi murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation. “But it serves as a reminder to all who dare to betray us.”

“He fucking deserved to have his balls cut off, Hyung.” The youngest member of the board spoke with venom in his voice. The sentiment was shared by many in the room, but Yoongi knew that dwelling on revenge would only serve to distract them from their true objectives. Nonetheless, he silently nodded in agreement.

“Are all our goods secured, Jimin-ah?” Yoongi shifted the conversation to more practical matters, his focus unwavering despite the weight of recent events. Their operations could not afford to falter.

“They’re secured, Hyung,” Jimin replied, his tone confident. “We’ve taken the necessary precautions to ensure our assets remain protected.”

“Good,” Yoongi said, his voice firm. “We can’t afford any mistakes. Keep a close eye on everything, and report any unusual activity immediately—”

“What is it, Yoongi?” The doctor’s voice resonated throughout the room. He was sitting near the fireplace, nursing a glass of liquor in his hand, his eyes sharp and thin while looking at his brother and leader.

The moment he stepped inside of the hotel, Seokjin knew something had happened that got under Yoongi’s skin. The only reason is still absent in this room, her time slowly waning.

Yoongi’s gaze flickered towards Seokjin, his brother’s interruption breaking the flow of their conversation.

“We have matters to attend to, Seokjin,” Yoongi replied, his tone clipped but not unkind. “Important ones.”

“Rumour has it—” he stood up, ignoring the scarred boy’s dismissal he had known forever, Seokjin’s eyes bore into Yoongi’s, a silent challenge passing between them.

“That while you celebrate the victory, your own household is on fire.” Yoongi’s jaw tightened, a silent acknowledgement of the truth in Seokjin’s words.

“So tell us what is bothering you.” Despite his efforts to maintain his composure, he couldn’t entirely mask the unease that gnawed at him. Reaching the spot where his bride imprinted her hand earlier, he spoke.

“She knows Wang Xiaqing did not give me any blessing to marry her.” He could visibly see his right-hand man pressing his fingers to the root of his notes and sighing loudly. The youngest could not help but chuckle at his leader’s words as he sympathised with Y/N to most. Not enough to help her out of this situation though.

Seokjin’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, his gaze locking onto Yoongi’s with intensity. The revelation hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the room.

“And how did she come to know this?” Seokjin’s voice was low, a mixture of concern and curiosity. Yoongi’s jaw tensed, his expression clouding over with frustration.

“I gave her the letter without reading it first.”

“Yoongi why the actual fuck you would do that?!” Namjoon’s voice cut through the tension in the room, his anger palpable. Yoongi’s gaze hardened as he turned to face Namjoon, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

“Because she was making good progress, and I couldn’t deny it any longer,” Yoongi replied. Namjoon’s expression softened his features, reflecting a mix of sympathy and understanding.

“It does not matter, Hyung, she is your wife and that cannot be undone, right?” Hoseok’s voice carried a note of reassurance when he softly smiled at him.

Seokjin held up a hand, silencing the room. His pointing finger aimed at Yoongi next. “Yes, whatever happens, she is still your wife.”

“Yeah, well, go and tell her that, see if she listens.” Yoongi muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration, sinking back to his armchair. Namjoon exchanged a knowing glance with Seokjin.

“Does she know about your plans for her father’s Triad?” Namjoon’s question hung in the air, injecting a new layer of tension into the room.

Yoongi’s hand was pinching his lip when the question was raised. His eyes on neither of the men questioning him.

“She figured,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Seokjin’s expression tightened, his gaze narrowing as he processed Yoongi’s words. Namjoon’s eyes widened in surprise, his brows furrowing with concern and the rest of the man reflected the same kind of emotions.

“Hyung, but you just said she made progress, right? All will be good.” Namjoon’s question hung in the air, injecting a note of uncertainty into the conversation. Yoongi’s jaw clenched, his mind racing as he considered Namjoon’s words. He had believed that Y/N understood her role in their world, but recent events had shaken that belief to its core.

“I thought she did,” Yoongi murmured, his voice heavy with regret. “But now, I’m not so sure.” The remaining six were staring at their leader, expecting them to fill him in. They needed to know the situation in case little Mrs Min attempted to ruin every ongoing operation by running away.

“Well then, humble her like you always do—” Namjoon began, his tone suggesting a ruthless solution to the problem. The rest of them were not as right with their brother’s drastic intentions. Apart from Seokjin, he knew the young gal enough to know that being soft wouldn’t move her. But Yoongi’s interruption cut through the air like a knife.

“She said my threats are empty.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of Yoongi’s words hanging in the air.

“Fucking show her they are not, Yoongi. You’re the Kkangpae, and she is your wife, goddammit.” Namjoon’s frustration boiled over, his voice laced with urgency. They needed her well, alive and here as an obedient and loyal wife.

Yoongi had given her the chance to do so willingly, he had even gone against his trusted men’s words when he suggested she be involved in the business however she liked. He tried to play nice numerous times. In his mind. Not in hers.

Yoongi shall never fully scope how much he took from her. He is selfish enough to never even accept the possibility of letting her go for the better course in their damaged relationship. He always ruled with fear and kindness was only recently added to his vocabulary once he fell in love with her. Deeply, quickly and too hard. Whether he was willing to make that sacrifice, to truly change the way he ruled his empire, remained to be seen.

He wanted to mould her into the perfect wife for a Kkangpae. But he also wished that she would reciprocate his love. He had demanded too much of her, without ever truly understanding the cost. And as he looked around the room at the faces of his most trusted allies, he realised that he was not the only one who had underestimated the strength of her will.

Every one of them thought this matter would be solved after the wedding and she would slowly succumb to what life they offered her. But if there was one thing he was certain of, it was this: he would do whatever it took to keep her by his side, even if it meant confronting the darkest parts of himself in the process.

“I can always fix her, Yoongi.” Yoongi’s jaw clenched as he processed the implication behind Seokjin’s statement.

“That shall be the very last option, aight?” Yoongi finally replied, his voice firm despite the doubt that gnawed at him.

They may not have agreed with his decision, but they recognized the weight of his words. And in that moment, Yoongi thought that he had taken the first step towards redemption. Only to fall back down for what he is going to do.

“You underestimate the power of discontent, brother,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “It festers, grows until it consumes everything in its path. You would do well not to ignore it.”

“I’ll handle it,” he said, his voice filled with determination.

The door creaked open, revealing a figure standing in the doorway. Fashionably late, she at least arrived after she made sure that her little brother and mother were safe and sound. She has put him down for his afternoon nap, promising him to make a snowman when he wakes up.

The men’s looks met her eyes with a hint of little something Y/N could not interpret.

“What is it?” She asked carefully, scanning their faces.

“We were just discussing some matters concerning the recent events.” Seokjin steadied his voice and fixed his tie.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the tension in the air, but she forced herself to maintain a calm façade. She stepped further into the room, her eyes flickering between the faces of the men gathered around the table.

“Is there something I need to be aware of?” she asked, her tone carefully neutral.

“Chan-yeol’s dead,” said Yoongi coldly. She swallowed hard, trying to process the information.

The tension in the room seemed to thicken as the men exchanged guarded glances. Yoongi’s gaze bore into hers, searching for any hint of vulnerability. But Y/N held his stare, refusing to show any weakness in front of him or his associates.

Truth to be told, she did not know how to feel. The man was an accomplice in an act not worthy of heaven’s gate after death. The numbness that was creeping in her brain was spreading further and further.

“Does Daiyu know?” She gulped down the question, avoiding direct eye contact with any of the men.

“She knows. There will not be any funeral as he was a traitor to our clan.”

In their world, traitors were dealt with swiftly and without mercy. There would be no mourning for Chan-yeol, no funeral to honour his memory. He had chosen his path, and now he would face the consequences.

Y/N breathed the thick air of the room deeply in and licked her lips, her teeth scraping the bottom lip, a subconscious gesture of anxiety. The world of the Kkangpae was unforgiving, its rules and consequences absolute.

“Well, if you excuse us Buin, we shall take our leave.” Hoseok sensed that it was the right time to flee this room before more private and intense conversations could start between the man and his wife.

“Of course,” Y/N replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She watched silently as the men filed out of the room one by one, their expressions unreadable as they passed her by. Alone in the room with Yoongi, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that they will not have a pleasant conversation.

She turned to face him, searching his expression for any sign of what was to come. Their inner problems were never concluded, rather set on pause and Y/N had a hunch that Yoongi would not let her earlier shenanigans go.

“I want to speak to her, Yoongi.” She knew that asking to speak with Dayiu was a bold move, especially given the recent events and the strained dynamics between them.

“Why?” he asked, his tone betraying none of his thoughts or emotions.

“I want to express my condolences.”

“Condolences?-” he echoed, the scepticism evident in his tone. What kind of condolence she wanted to express when the very same man was an accomplice of such a sinistrous act.

“She lost a husband and the little boy lost his dad—” He knew Y/N well enough to recognise when she was being genuine and when she was attempting to manipulate the situation to her advantage. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of guardedness, perhaps even suspicion.

“Do you want to perchance tell her to run, dove?” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the directness of his question.

“I want to offer my condolences sincerely,” she replied, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. “Whatever may have transpired between us should not affect her, Yoongi.” Yoongi’s gaze remained fixed on Y/N, assessing her words and the sincerity behind them. She meant to say that whatever happens in their messed up relationship, Daiyu should never be used as bargain anymore.

“I agree. But you just won’t ever learn, will you?” Their eyes locked, each of them holding their ground in the midst of their complex emotions.

“Yoongi, you ruined my goddamn life. Please don’t expect me to play house with you.”

“I’m offering you the life of a queen and all I ask for in return is obedience, perhaps love in time.” She heard this kind of proclamation way too many times for it to waver her.

“Well, I certainly did not ask for it.” She clasped her hands together, aiming to leave the room and find her cousin.

“Sit your ass back down. I’m not done.”

Y/N froze at Yoongi’s command, her muscles tensing as she slowly turned back to face him. Despite her inner turmoil, she complied, sinking back into the chair with a heavy sigh.

“You needn’t tell her to run. I have no intention to hurt her in particular. She played her part.”

“What else do you want from me, Yoongi?” she asked, her voice laced with frustration and exhaustion, not believing a word he was saying. “Haven’t you taken enough?”

“You needn’t concern yourself with her fate. Focus on your own.” Y/N’s heart sank at his words.

“I want you to see that everything I do, I do for us. For our future.” Y/N’s eyes narrowed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. Yoongi’s jaw clenched, his frustration palpable.

“I won’t be a part of your game anymore, Yoongi,” she declared, her voice unwavering. “I won’t—” a knock on the double door echoed, interrupting her.

Yoongi’s gaze flickered towards the door, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his features before he composed himself.

“Come in,” he called out, his voice firm. The siblings came just in time. Afterall, the Kkangpae requested their presence.

Dayiu’s eyes were red and swollen, a testament to the grief she carried, while Kai’s expression was hardened, unknowingly walking to a trap.

She greeted the young Kkangpae with a respectful bow. Kai remained silent, his eyes darting between Yoongi and Y/N.

Y/N watched the interaction, her earlier confrontation with Yoongi momentarily set aside in the face of a new development.

The room teetered on the edge of chaos she obviously did not see coming, and the consequences of this confrontation were poised to reshape the dynamics in their relationship. For good, he hoped.

They exchanged small talk with their leader while Y/N sat there silently. Only now and then did she raise a sympathetic look Daiyu’s way. She did not have a chance to speak with her since Chan-yeol drugged her and sold her out just to betray the very same man months later.

Y/N wished to apologise for every single unpleasant discontent she caused to her because of the fire she burnt Yoongi with.

Leaning in close to Daiyu, Y/N whispered her apologies, her words a quiet admission of remorse for the pain she had inadvertently caused.

She reached out, squeezing Y/N’s hand in a gesture of understanding her desire to live her life the way she wants. Daiyu shares the same ambition now that her husband is no longer in the picture. But that is, of course, not going to be granted.

As she was not paying attention to what Yoongi and Kai are further discussing, a mistake on her part. The next shocked her to the core.

Kai went to stand up just to be sent flying to the ground by Yoongi knocking him down. Y/N’s heart lurched with horror.

“Yoongi, what the fuck!” Y/N yelled, shielding Daiyu with her body.

“Missus Park?” Yoongi called. “I would rather you not stay for the next couple of moments.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at Yoongi’s words.

“You see, Missus Park. I need to show my wife just how much my threats are not empty.” His voice was full of violence and Y/N’s heart pounded too loud and hard. She shot a concerned look at Daiyu, silently communicating her support and urging her to leave the room.

“Both of you. Leave, right now!” With a nod of understanding, Dayiu rose from her seat, casting a final glance at Y/N before quietly exiting the room. Panic surged through her veins as she watched Daiyu leave the room, her gaze fixing on Kai, struggling to stand up and run, his eyes reflecting fear.

Yoongi’s gaze locked onto hers, his expression dark and foreboding. She knew she couldn’t escape his wrath, not now.

“Yoongi, stop!” Her palms blunt against his torso, trying to stop him from proceeding further, just to be pushed back to the armchair, little too hard than Yoongi intended to. His mind and fists aimed at the younger boy’s face. Her words fell on deaf ears as Yoongi continued his assault, his rage unchecked and his fury unleashed.

The sickening sound of bone crunching beneath his blows and painful cries from Kai’s mouth was haunting the room. Yoongi dragged him to the nearest wall and pressed his head tightly to the concrete with his hand. The skin of his knuckles was torn and full of blood. Not as much blood as Kai’s face produced after being beaten numerous times. Kai’s painful cry got louder once Yoongi kept pressing his cheek to the wall.

With each crunch of bone and each agonised cry that echoed through the room, Y/N’s desperation grew. She knew she had to act, to do something to protect Kai from further harm.

“Yoongi, this is all me. Punish me!” She scrambled to her feet, her hands shaking with fear and adrenaline as she desperately tried to intervene, to stop Yoongi from inflicting any more harm on Kai. She did not expect him to take a hit on Kai, he followed his orders thoroughly, the younger boy even pledged his loyalty to him. Y/N's mind scratched his name from the list, another mistake on her part.

Y/N’s voice cracked with emotion as she made her desperate plea, hoping to redirect Yoongi’s rage away from Kai and onto herself. She knew she was risking everything by putting herself in the line of fire, but she couldn’t bear to see Kai suffer any longer.

“I was thinking you know—” said the scarred leader. With each passing moment, the weight of their situation pressed down on her, threatening to suffocate her with its overwhelming intensity.

“Forbidding you from this and that won’t work on you nor killing a worthless maid—”

Yoongi’s voice trailed off, his gaze turning back to Kai, whose head was battered and bloodied pressed to the wall, so painful that his consciousness was waning. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she waited for Yoongi’s next move, unsure of what to expect.

“—but hurting someone you care about...” His voice was chilling, the threat implicit in his words. Y/N’s blood ran cold as she realised the full extent of Yoongi’s intentions. He was using Kai as a pawn in his twisted game, manipulating her emotions to bend her to his will.

“His life and blood are on your hands, love.”

She looked into Kai’s eyes, seeing the pain and terror reflected in them, knowing that his fate now rested in her hands. Yoongi did not plan to kill him altogether, he just wanted her to succumb to submission and obedience.

“No, Yoongi, please!” she pleaded, her voice trembling with emotion. But Yoongi’s expression remained cold and impassive, his resolve unyielding. She felt as though her soul was being torn apart, torn between her love for Kai and her desperate need to protect him.

She had had enough. She had seen enough. And she was ready to give up her life to save his. Y/N thought about this option way too often lately. Whether her sacrifice would be enough to save Kai from further harm remained to be seen.

In that moment of desperation and despair, Y/N’s mind raced as she weighed her options. The thought of sacrificing herself to protect Kai from further harm consumed her thoughts, and with a sense of grim determination, she reached for the same unfortunate knife that saved her from her father’s wrath before.

With a steady hand, she withdrew the weapon, its cold metal glinting in the dim light of the room.

“Y/N…” he had to look back at her twice before he realised what was going on. Yoongi’s gaze flickered toward her, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes as he realised her intentions. But before he could react, Y/N pressed the blade against her own throat, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and resolve.

“Let him go Yoongi, or I swear I will do it,” she declared, her voice quavering but firm. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they all grappled with the gravity of the situation. Y/N waited, her hand steady against her throat, her gaze unwavering as she dared Yoongi to make his next move.

Yoongi’s hand left the already fractured skull of his wife’s cousin, and Kai slumped down by the wall, grunting loudly. The scarred leader who thought is holding the young gal in chess mate was taken aback by the sudden turn of events.

“I let him go, baby, now put the blade away.” Y/N hesitated, her grip on the sharp letter opener tightening involuntarily.

The rush of adrenaline had drowned out her fear momentarily, leaving her with a fierce determination to stand her ground.

“No,” she said firmly, her voice tinged with defiance. Yoongi took a step towards her small form. Her eyes crimson red, tears streaming down as she said that.

“We can talk—”

“It always starts with a talk, Yoongi, doesn't it?” Y/N interrupted, her voice trembling with emotion but her resolve unwavering. She held the knife steady, its blade gleaming in the dim light of the room.

Yoongi’s expression darkened, a mixture of frustration and anger flashing across his features. He took another step closer, his gaze locked on Y/N’s determined face. He was afraid and the young leader was only afraid of one thing. Losing her.

“Love, fuck, please I beg you to put it down, baby.” Y/N shook her head again.

“I told you I am your weakness, Yoongi, now you see for yourself.”

For the first time in a long time, Yoongi felt truly afraid. Not for himself, but for Y/N. He knew that he had pushed her too far, that his actions had driven her to this desperate act. And as he stood before her, pleading to put down the knife, he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that he had already lost her.

He had always prided himself on his ability to maintain control in any situation, but now, faced with the prospect of losing Y/N, he felt powerless. He made her go mad.

As Yoongi reached out his hand towards her, a silent plea in his eyes, Y/N knew she couldn’t back down. It is him who will never learn, not her. Pressing the knife tighter, piercing the first layer of the skin, painting the blade red. A thin crimson line trickled down her neck making Yoongi’s eyes widen in panic. She could not feel a thing through the adrenaline and post traumatic experience from the events that led her to close her mind and not feel, her eyes were still fixated on him and how terrified he looked.

“Y/N, please,-” he begged, his voice raw with emotion. Now it was her who remained unmoved, her eyes blazing with defiance as she held her ground.

“Say it, Yoongi.” She declared. Giving him the taste of his own medicine. And the dark sickening part of Yoongi knew that he had finally met his match. She wanted him to suffer just as much as he made her suffer.

“I’m so sorry, love,-” what he always forced her to say, thinking he is teaching her of accountability, now left his lips. Yet, he could never be accountable for his own actions, could he?

“You’ve taken my life from me!” her voice filled with bitterness and resentment.

“I know,-” he whispered, gulping down the lump in his throat. His voice was heavy with remorse that did not reach sincerity. “And I will spend the rest of my life trying—”

“Fuck you! You are like a broken record, a lying one!” She had seen through his façade, seen the darkness that lurked beneath his composed exterior, and she refused to let him off the hook so easily. But he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, couldn’t bear the thought of spending the rest of his life haunted by the memories of what he had done.

“I will do everythi—”

“But you will never let me go.”

For a moment, Yoongi was speechless, his mind racing as he grappled with the realisation that he had pushed her too far. There were no words he could say to make her put the blade down from her neck. The absence of words only confirmed hers.

“The only blood I shall have on my hands shall be mine.”

He immediately crossed the distance to reach out - to stop her - to tell her that he would do anything to make things right, but he knew it was too late for that.

“NO!”

With a desperate scream from his mouth, Yoongi watched as Y/N swiftly swiped the blade against her own skin, cutting deeper, painting the qipao embroidered with pink roses and green leaves she was clad in crimson red with her hot blood.

.

.

.

©pennyellee. please do not repost

author's note: sheesh, here we go, i thought that no chapter will be hard for me to write since the last one, but this one did a number on me tbh. But more importantly for yall my beautiful chummers, if you feel like this is the end you imagined for lacrimosa and y/n, I strongly encourage you to not proceed to read the following chapters. Not every piece of media is meant for everybody and I totally respect if the way in which will lacrimosa continue won't be everyone's cup of tea or simply not the trope they wanted. I hold the pen and I love yall, I won't change the outline of lacrimosa I planned because of relativity tho. Therefore, those who are satisfied with this kind of ending - I love you, I'm grateful, and I thank you hundred times that you took the time to read this fic. Those who wants to follow the "couple" a bit more, stay tuned and patient for other chapters. I love you 🫧♡ ︎

shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta another chapter!

Love you all!! ♥

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers 🫧♡ ︎

lots of love, p.

tag list: @beautifulcloudfestival - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyyyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss - @secfir - @btspurplesky - @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin - @selenophileforlife - @idkjustlovingbts @seonghwaexile

#mafia au #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #hard yandere #yandere #yandere kpop #mafia bts #lacrimosa #myg angst #dark!yoongi #min yoongi x y/n #bts x you #yoongi smut #haegeum #suga x you #suga x y/n #suga x reader #historical au #bts historical au #bts yandere au #fic:lacrimosa #yandere bts #bts fic #yandere yoongi #bts #Spotify

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

🎃 Why is it Red?

Blood CW: Death, zombies, blood, Dead Dove fic, non-con, oral, pain, bodily harm, sadism, dead dove

"Move! Move! Move!" (Reader) shot another undead between the eyes, splattering their face in gore due to the proximity.

The team of survivors ran through the back alleys of the dead infested city, climbing fences and garbage piles in an attempt to out maneuver the horde chasing them. It was dangerous and stupid, entering the hot zone like they did, but the survivors were running low on necessities so the adventure was a risk they had to take.

(Reader) cried out as their foot got caught in garbage, their ankle twisting on a piece of abandoned machinery, popping louder than the sound of their heavy boots falling on wet pavement. They collapsed in the empty alley, watching as their two comrades turned to them in fear.

"Go without me!" (Reader) shrugged off their backpack full of supplies, tossing it to the survivor closest to them.

"(Reader), don't give up-"

(Reader) pulled back the hammer on their gun, aiming it at their brother while forcing back their tears. They would try to limp their way back, but it was too important for those supplies to get to their camp; they couldn't risk the mission to drag (Reader) back with them. He got the hint, clenching his jaw tightly while trying not to break down himself. "I'll find my way back, go now!"

After the other two scuffled away, (Reader) was left in the eerie silence, straining their ears for the sounds of the deceased. They knew the horde would find them, it didn't matter how many alleys they had traveled through, nor how many obstacles they traversed. No one was as tenacious as a zombie.

Shuffling of torn shoes rounded a corner, multiple of the undead finding (Reader) much faster than they had hoped for. Their pant leg was rapidly darkening, blood sticking the fabric to their skin. Horrified, (Reader) unlaced their boot. In the adrenaline of the moment they hadn't realized that the popping sound wasn't their ankle getting sprained. Inside the boot (Reader's) bone poked through their skin.

They couldn't help but laugh.

Of course this was how they go out.

They had survived so much bullshit, and now they were going to die... because they broke their leg on a trash pile.

(Reader) killed one of the shamblers. There was no point in keeping quiet; their blood would attract the entire city. The next rotter also went down. Thankfully, these were the slower ones, the older ones. Once the sprinters came (Reader's) only choice would be to spare themselves from the pain of being eaten alive.

Groaning and snarling closed in on (Reader's) alley.

A fast one twitched her head towards (Reader), snapping her teeth as she tasted their blood in the air. She lurched, ready to charge, when something grabbed her from behind, ripping her head off and tossing it effortlessly.

Something stepped into view, horrifying (Reader). They had never seen such a thing, and the fight or flight response failed them, freezing them solid. They were used to killing zombies, but this..

It stood almost seven feet tall, pure white eyes with it's nose and lips torn off. The muscles looked as though they had suddenly grown on death, growing so quickly that it tore through it's skin. The stretched grey and red skin looked painfully tight, tearing in places from the strain of it's own mass. (Reader's) wide eyes traveled down it's form, observing it's painful physique, almost too numb from fear to register that it was naked.

The monster stalked closer, taking long strides towards the pitiful human, shaking too hard to aim their weapon. It reached down, ripping the bloody boot off (Reader's) swelling foot. They screamed in pain, snapping out of their petrification. A bullet landed right between the thing's eyes, but it only barely pierced it's thick skull, stopping before it even touched the brain.

"What the fuck?!" (Reader) hollered, tears cleaning the dirt from their cheeks. They went to fire again, but the creature yanked the gun away. It huffed, rolling it's blind eyes back. Pulling (Reader) up by their broken leg, they cried hysterically as they were suspended upside down.

It's tongue ran across their shin, shivering as it tasted (Reader's) blood. (Reader) wanted to know what was going to happen to them, but couldn't see the monster's face. And worse, their head was level to his nude pelvis, finally noticing it's giant cock raising towards them, growing larger by the second.

The thing growled, sucking and licking (Reader's) exposed bone with it's cold, rotting tongue. It slammed (Reader) against the wall, pressing it's dick against their lips. It reeked like piss and death, making (Reader) briefly wonder where that cock has been, or in what?

The slimy tip parted their lips. (Reader) tried to keep their teeth wired shut, but involuntarily opened to scream when their attacker stuck his tongue into the open wound, knocking loose shards of tibia. It took advantage of the pain to ram it's erection down (Reader's) throat, violently dislocating their jaw in the process.

It continued drinking from their leg as it forcefully face fucked (Reader), slamming their skull into the brick wall with each thrust of it's hips. The chipped teeth lightly grazed (Reader's) flesh, threatening to take a chunk out of their leg.

(Reader) couldn't breathe, the girthy cock from the corpse filling their throat so completely that it hurt to even try breathing through their nose. It tasted disgusting, like how a decomposing body smelled. Every time (Reader) focused on the pain in their throat and jaw, the creature fucked with their leg again, prodding (Reader's) gash to draw out more blood, spreading the hot fluid across it's face.

They thought they were going to pass out. Whether from the shock or from the lack of oxygen, they didn't know. Whenever the pain began to numb itself the zombie would pick up the pace, power jacking his dick into (Reader's) mouth, forcing their mandibular joint to creak, spreading a white hot fire across (Reader's) head as their jaw threatened to shatter. Craving the blood from (Reader's) ankle, it tightened it's grip on the break, cracking the bone further in it's paw, relishing in the red dribbling down it's chin.

A thick gunk sprayed into (Reader's) stomach, filling their neck so quickly that it squirted out their nose and plugged up the few gaps left in their airways. The cock twitched as more of it's foul cum filled (Reader's) body, making them ill, vomiting on the large member.

The creature seemed pleased, pulling it's newest toy off it's deflating organ. (Reader) continued barfing, trying not to notice that the color of the jizz they were spitting up was red.

(Reader) was slung over the zombie's shoulder, carried through the town to a fate worse than death..

#dead dove do not eat #kinktober #i'm sorry this took so long #cw blo0d #cw death #cw zombie #cw noncon #cw violence #not proofread #bad writing #i'm just so tired

[kondensaduhhh]

inspired by @dirtytransmasc ‘s Spider Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan AU

where, since because this Spider grew up being fully adopted and loved by the Sully family, the ‘son for a son scene’ where Neytiri holds a knife to Spider doesn’t happen, what happens instead is a ‘if I can’t have him, no one can’ scene with Quaritch, where instead of Quaritch getting a hold of Kiri, it’s Spider.

Everyone is frozen.

Kiri is holding Tuk, Jake being torn between shooting Miles, but risk shooting his son too, and obeying his demands. Lo’ak and Neteyam are there, a few scrapes, cuts, and bruises on them but otherwise whole. Jake holds out his arm in front of his other two sons, knowing his mate’s burning desire to protect pumps in their veins, ready to lunge.

And Neytiri is prowling.

That demon has her son, her firstborn under his sharp knife, already cutting his delicate skin, she sees his blood smear with each struggle, causing a growl deep within her throat. Every bone in her body aches to lunge and attack the monster hurting her baby, but her mate’s arm stops her, she sees the pleading look in his eyes that yells, ‘please, think clearly’. She wants to scream, she needs to do something, but the situation is much too delicate to take such a risk.

“What will it be, kid?” Quaritch says, knife still against Spider neck, “The Sullys, who left you, abandoned you for months?” cries of protest from his siblings at the words spoken, “or me? who took care of you after they left you for dead?”

With no breath of hesitation in his voice, “Them! They’re my family! Not you! Never you!” Spider screams. Irritation pinches Quaritch’s face, he sets his jaw, “Then so be it.” and he cuts.

He cuts through Spider’s jugular, leaving to fall, blood sputtering through his fingers as he tries to add pressure. Everyone screams, scrambling to help Spider. The demon walks away with a limp in his step.

“Lyle, blow this pla-“ short, rapid fire gunshots, cut through everyones eardrums, the Sullys’ attention snapped to the cause of the beast’s death for a second. They were met with the image of Neteyam, gun in his arms, tears in his eyes, he drops it immediately and rushes to Spider’s side.

“Neteyam…” Kiri holds her hand out to him, her voice watery and scared, he takes her hand, and inches closer towards his brother, Tuk tucks herself onto him, wailing onto his chest, Lo’ak has both hands pressing on Spider’s neck, their dad is speaking softly to him, stroking his hair, while their mother is begging for Eywa to keep her son alive, to not take him away from them, from her, no, not yet

Spider is apologizing and they don’t know why, they just hold on to him and their siblings, “im sorry, im sorry… i love you, im sorry,” he coughs, blood splatters on his mask, dripping down the sides of his lips, “i just wanted to sa-…” He closes his eyes. The it’s like the world stopped spinning, everyone is silent, waiting for Spider to keep talking, because he always does, he always has something to say, but Jake has hung his head already.

Kiri was the first to talk Spider, “Monkey boy? Spider? Spider, what is it? Spider! What were gonna say?!” her voice gets shakier as she talks, her voice breaks at the end along it is her, curling into Spider’s chest.

“Spider? Wake up! C’mon, you’re scaring me!” Tuk, oh, little Tuk-tuk, she pleads, “Neteyam, do something!” She sobs. Neteyam can’t fix this one, he can’t lead them on this one, Neteyam doesn’t know what to do, instead her cries, not quietly, like Lo’ak, who is staring at his hands, covered in Spider’s blood, tears just running down his cheeks, but also not loudly, like Kiri, who demanding answers from the Great Mother, he just… cries. Holding the rest of his siblings in his arms.

Jake is on the opposite side of his children on Spider’s body, he wants to wipe away the tears and blood off of his son’s face, to remove the mask and clean his face off, he tries, but his daughters’ panicked screams of ‘Stop! He can’t breath with out it!” broke his heart further. Lo’ak cries like him, quiet, almost catatonic, a contrast to his mate who has screamed and wailed for it to not be true, sobbing for Eywa to not do this to them. With no protest fro Kiri, and little from Tuk, Neytiri holds Spider, sobbing louder when his body that was always warm, especially compared to their na’vi bodies, was starting to cool. Kiri and Tuk held onto their mother as they cried.

Jake neared his mate, gently pulling her towards him, as their remaining sons was held by their father, both boys leaning on Jake.

continuation

#idk what happenedkdkdjdk #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #atwow #avatar twow #spider soccoro #kiri sully #neteyam suly #tuk sully #loak sully #spider socorro #kiri te suli kìreysì'ite #tuktirey te suli neytiri'ite #loak te suli tsyeyk’itan #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #spider te suli tsyeyk'itan

[fixfoxnox]

These Bones Are Broken

Summary: Roach nearly loses someone he cares about and it causes a break in his mask.

Warnings: Panic Attacks, Skin Picking, Hair Pulling, Mental Break, Discussions of torture

Note: A comm from the wonderful @theunbitten thank you <3

Roach was something of a statue. That's what Soap said, at least. 

He was quiet and he was focused. A beast with a single-minded determination to his cause. Nothing seemed to bother him, nothing ever distracted him from the end goal. It was as impressive as it was intimidating.

Soap and Gaz had witnessed him unflinchingly torturing men, sparking the pieces of a car battery together in preparation for getting information on their next target. They'd watched him mow down waves of enemies without ever wavering. No exhaustion, no fear, no nothing. He was a statue. 

At times, Soap found himself tempted to say Roach didn't feel anything at all. He was a robot or couldn't feel pain or something equally as terrifying. He thought Roach was incapable of anything except for his focus and his work. He knew he was wrong, even if it was hard to believe at times. 

He'd seen Roach's emotions in little tics. The twitching of his eyebrow or the slight curve of his lips. The way his voice would waver with anger and grow stronger in victory. Roach hid well. He hid all of those emotions that he had with so much skill. Soap knew better, though. He was smarter when it came to emotions than anyone gave him credit for. He could see right through Roach's walls. 

Sometimes, it was difficult. He would question himself as he watched Roach blow a man's brains out right in front of his family. He wondered if he was seeing things that weren't there as Roach flayed a man alive, desperate for information.

He knew he wasn't imagining things, though. It was just hard to see. It was hard to see because Roach never broke.

Roach gave an annoyed huff through the mask covering the bottom of his face, the puff of heat warming his face for only a short moment. The little huff was the first bit of emotion he'd managed to give since he'd stepped outside to meet Soap and Gaz.

The two were finally back from what was meant to be a short recon mission. Roach could only assume it had turned to shit, considering he'd lost comms with the two about an hour into the job. It was enough of a shock that he'd nearly had a panic attack the moment the comms went out. 

He'd spent an hour pacing around their little base of operations. He kept tugging at his hair and picking at his nails, forcing himself not to move from the room he was in. He knew if he did, he'd immediately make his way out to the van in the garage and try to stage a rescue operation. He hadn't even known if the two needed rescuing. 

His mind, of course, had spiraled. He couldn't help but think of his first life, of that mission where they'd been separated and the comms had been shit. He'd spent his time panicking over it, thinking of what could have happened after smoke and fire filled his lungs and choked the life from his chest. 

He'd run through every scenario. Shepherd's men turning on Soap and Price, gunning them down as they tried desperately to escape the mess they'd been led into. One of the two sacrificing themself for the other, running into the battle as a distraction so at least one of them could get away. 

He knew it would have been Price to do so. He hadn't known the man for long, but he knew him well enough to know that Soap was like a son to him and he wasn't going to risk losing him. From what Soap shared with him in that first life, he knew it was because the man hadn't been able to protect Gaz. He knew he wouldn't be likely to make the same mistake with Soap.

He knew Soap though, much better than he knew Price. He knew Soap wasn’t the type to let that happen so easily. He wasn't the type to let people sacrifice themselves for him. He already felt guilty enough about the deaths he had no control over. Roach couldn't see Soap allowing Price to even think of doing something like that. 

On occasion, he let himself dream that maybe the two made it out alive. Maybe there was some sort of kindness in the universe and only he and Simon were killed that day. Maybe only they had faced the sting of betrayal and the pain of a bullet. 

 He couldn't let himself have even that. He knew that even if the two had survived, even if they'd somehow managed to stop Shepherd, they would have been fugitives. They would be on the run and, knowing them, they wouldn't give up on the mission. They'd keep chasing Makarov until they killed him or he finally killed them. No matter what, he knew they likely hadn’t made it out alive. 

The thoughts never helped him in moments like this. His entire goal had been to stop anything like what happened in the first life from ever happening again. He wouldn't let anyone he cared about be hurt, ever again. Not when he’d been given an opportunity to stop it.

He'd been brought violently back to himself by another tug at his hair, this one much harsher. He hadn't even realized how tight he'd made his grip or how much he was yanking. Not until he pulled his hand back and looked down at the clump of hair laid in his palm. 

He'd stared at it for a long moment, scrutinizing the little tuft and the way his hand shook around it. It was ridiculous. He was behaving poorly, letting his feelings run wild. He couldn't do that, not now, not when he had such an important mission to focus on. 

He'd clenched his jaw in a flash of anger. His teeth gave a painful protest as he grinded them together, taking a long careful moment to come back to himself. He didn't have time for any of this, he needed to try to get communication with the two men back up, to find out what happened and where the two were. If they needed help. 

It was a short walk over to a trash so he could let the hair fall freely from his hand, out of sight and out of mind. He relaxed his jaw and let his face fall into something more neutral, something more blank. No one was around to see, there was no reason for it. But, he knew, he knew that if he didn't do something to hide how he was really feeling at that moment, it would be hard to hide it all later, when he needed to. 

He'd managed to finally get comms back up after another thirty minutes. He only allowed himself a small sigh of relief when both of the men confirmed they were okay and were in their transport. According to them, things had gone tits up.

It wasn't until they'd arrived that Roach got a proper answer about what happened. 

“You're both alright?” Roach gave them both a quick once over, noting a few new scratches and bruises, but nothing that seemed too bad. His eyes traced over Soap's body in particular, checking him for anything that might indicate he needed immediate medical attention. He knew he wouldn't be able to calm himself until his eyes had their fill. The most he'd noticed was the curious way that Soap was standing, clearly favoring one side over the other. 

Roach narrowed his eyes at the man and opened his mouth to question him, he was beaten to it by the man himself, his voice just a bit strained. Just enough for Roach to notice. 

“We're fine, nothing that we couldn't handle.” He gave Roach a toothy grin and Roach noted with careful eyes that his lip was split. “Just ran into a bit of trouble, these guys were a bit more wiley than we'd expected.”

“And what exactly happened?” He tilted his head at the two men, allowing his eyes to temporarily move away from Soap and over to Gaz. He gave the man a quick once over as well and was satisfied to see that the man appeared to be in much better shape than Soap. That was good, at least he could be certain Gaz was okay. 

The two men glanced at one another for a moment and that alone was enough to tell Roach that something had gone horribly wrong. Or, at least wrong enough that the two were concerned about it. 

“They knew we were there.”

“What?” 

Roach could see both of them hesitate, it was Gaz who finally spoke up. “We don't know how, all we know is one second we were just watching, the next second our comms were down and we were in a gunfight.” He motioned toward Soap quickly, “We only managed to get comms back because this one literally tripped over the jammers they were using.”

“Jammers,” Roach did his best not to clench his jaw again, “they knew we were coming.” He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to think of how it could be possible the men knew they were coming. The best he could come up with was some sort of security breach.

They’d been making waves in terrorist circles recently. It was one thing when one person turned up dead, it was another thing entirely when several high-up people in those circles turned up dead. He knew they'd been getting some attention, he just hadn't thought anyone would actually be able to find them.

“It's good the two of you got out.” He resisted the urge to run a tired hand over his face, “If you were compromised, it means we need to pull back a bit. We're being too obvious. Our target can wait.”

The two men glanced at each other again and shifted a bit, as though they were nervous. Roach narrowed his eyes at the two and his eyes drifted back to Soap in particular. Did the man look paler than usual?

“About that,” Soap croaked out, “uh, well, Gaz should explain.” His voice sounded weak and Roach noted with concern that he seemed more tired than he had moments ago. He pushed it down for the moment and turned his attention to Gaz with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, uh, we had an opportunity,” he cleared his throat and glanced at Soap again, “when all the chaos was happening, I guess they decided to try and move the target out. Soap and I happened across their path. And…”

Roach waited for him to continue, but Gaz only shifted nervously again. He gave him another moment of silence before pressing, “And? You ignored them, right? Kept going to the transport?” He paused for a moment, observing the two's guilty faces with rising panic, “Tell me the two of you did not try to take on an entire convoy of men by yourselves.”

The resulting wince from Gaz was answer enough. Roach had to fight down the wave of panic at the thought. He'd been here, safe inside while Gaz and Soap were fighting an entire convoy of men by themselves. All it would have taken was one misstep, one misstep and one of them would have been gone. Dead, and this time their blood would have been on his hands. 

He was panicked at the thought and that alone was enough to fill his voice with a shaking rage as he spoke. 

“What in God's name made you think that was a good idea?” He paused for a moment, taking in a slow breath to try and help the shaking of his voice. “Do you understand how fucking stupid that was? How easily one of you could have fucking died?” His voice rose slowly, “And where would that leave us? With your blood splattered in the fucking snow and no information to go off of. A meaningless sacrifice.”

He nearly spit the words between them, his heart pounding in his chest. He was harsher than he meant to be, and he didn't realize until they'd already escaped his mouth that it sounded as though he didn't care for the fate of the two men in front of him. They wouldn't know that he was angry and panicked because of how much he cared for them. 

“We did get something,” Soap protested. Roach looked over to him and took a reactive step forward. Soap looked as though he was going to collapse. “Show him, Gaz.”

Roach's attention was stolen away from Soap for just a moment, just long enough to watch Gaz turn around and make his way to the van the two men had taken on their mission. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes as Gaz unlocked the back doors of the van and turned to give him a quick look. He was nervous.

Roach wasn't sure what he was expecting when the man opened the door to the back of the van. He didn't know if he thought perhaps they'd managed to snatch some data or a computer system or something. What he did know, was that he hadn't expected the door to open and reveal the very target the two men had been watching, now bound and gagged in the back of the van. They'd managed to take him. 

It was only with a great deal of self-control that he managed to keep his mouth from gaping open like a fish. This was much better than any computer or intel and, though he was still pissed that the two men had done something so stupid, he couldn't help but be pleased they'd at least gotten something out of it. 

“See,” Soap's voice was smug, even around the clear strain, “it wasn't for nothing.” Roach turned back to him, prepared to say something about how even if they got something it was still too dangerous. Then he saw Soap sway and the blood he wasn't able to hide anymore as it finally soaked through the layers of his jacket and sweater. “It was worth it.”

Soap gave one last sway before his eyes rolled back and his legs gave out underneath him. 

Roach hadn't left Soap's side since he'd been patched up. 

It had been a rush job, quick work between him and Gaz to get the other man inside and onto a bed so they could look over his wound. It was pure luck that the bullet hadn't hit anything important. Any further either way and Roach doubted he would have been able to stop the bleeding and get the wound patched up properly.

He was lucky they were able to close the wound with staples. His hands were shaking far too much for stitches. If Gaz had noticed the way he was shaking as he cleaned blood from Soap's chest, he didn't say anything, a fairly wise choice on his part. 

Roach, for what it was worth, had managed to stay relatively calm while he waited to see if Soap would wake up. Though, he knew that perhaps calm hadn't been the right word. There was no part of him that was calm, but his mind had shut itself down and retreated into a hazy cloud of nothing.

He didn't feel like he was able to think, everything was so foggy and thick around him that he had trouble believing that anything was real. He just felt…wrong. Like he was just going through the motions, not really living, just existing. All while he waited patiently by Soap's bed, checking his vitals and making sure he was getting enough fluids through the IV drip. 

Gaz had offered to take over for him several times. To allow him a break so he could sleep or eat or something. Roach had denied him. He wasn't hungry and he wasn't tired, he just was. He existed only to sit and make sure Soap didn’t die on that bed. That he made it through the night like he was meant to.

There were a few hours, every now and then, when Gaz came and sat with him. He never tried to say anything, he just watched Roach and watched Soap. Roach was sure his own thoughts and worries were weighing on him enough, it was good he didn't try to take on Roach’s as well. 

Soap, luckily, didn't take long to wake up. It was two days before he finally stirred, rising from his forced slumber as Gaz and Roach were sitting at his bedside. He'd come to with a slow groan, mumbles about how hungry he was slipping past his lips before he'd even opened his eyes. 

Roach managed a sigh of relief as Gaz snorted, “Course you'd only be thinking about food after almost dying.” The words were spoken with a bit of laughter and poorly hidden fondness, but after days of nothing they finally broke through Roach's cloudy mind to send a spike of dread down his spine. “Here, I've had some crackers ready for when you'd get up.”

Roach sat quietly, watching to make sure Soap didn't choke on the little bit of food they were going to start him out with. The man practically scarfed the crackers down, making it clear that it had been a good idea to only give him a bit of food at first. It hadn't stopped him from complaining and begging for more. Gaz turned him down without a second thought. 

There was a bit of silence for several long moments, Roach needed to allow Soap to get his bearings before he said or did anything else. So, it wasn't until after he’d watched the other man take several long sips from a glass of water and hold a small conversation with Gaz that he stood. 

The movement caught the attention of both men, their eyes turning to follow him. Roach stood still for a long moment, trying to find the right words. His hands clenched into a fist at his side before relaxing again. He repeated the movement another few times before Soap finally asked, “Roach?”

“What you did was stupid.” There was silence, Soap looked away from him. “Don't do it again. And next time you get shot, tell us instead of waiting until you pass out. You understand?”

Soap gave a slow nod, guilt painting his features. “Understood.”

Another moment passed before Roach turned away from the two men and started toward the door of the little room they were in. He paused in the entryway, his hand gripping the doorframe as though it was a lifeline. He took a moment to breathe before he looked over his shoulder and offered a simple, “I'm glad you're alright.”

He didn't wait any longer before leaving the room and beginning a slow walk toward their little holding cell. He thought now would be the time to try and get some information out of their prisoner. Now that he knew Soap was safe. Now that he knew Soap wasn't going to die. Now that…

The fog that had been lying over him for the past few days seemed to dissipate, rising into his head to gather and gather into a pool of pain and anger and so many emotions he'd refused to acknowledge for the longest time. 

He kept walking forward, pushing his feet to move even as every step felt heavier than the last. He kept moving, it was what he'd been doing for his entire life, there was no reason he couldn't do it now.

His breathing grew labored, his vision seemed to blur. He couldn't understand why. Why couldn't he see properly? He paused then, placing a hand on the wall next to him for support as the gathered fog in his head threatened to expand outward. His chest felt heavy, as though it was going to collapse inward. A part of him felt that his ribs had already given, had already punctured his lungs, and were slowly stealing the air from him, just as the fire and smoke had. 

There was something wet on his face. He brought a hand up slowly, touching his cheek and pulling his hand away slow enough that he could see the tear caught on his finger. Another slipped down his cheek. Then another and another and another and another and-

A sob ripped its way from Roach's throat, so overwhelmingly powerful that he was sent hunching over. His hand found his chest, touching the skin to try and calm his heart. It was going to beat out of his chest, the painful thudding he could feel from his throat to his stomach made him sure of it. He thought for a moment he was going to puke with the pain it brought him.

Air struggled to pull through his throat as he sobbed. A painful cry that would only cease for a split second, long enough for him to take a drag of air that pained his throat with how sharp it was. It was all painful. It was all pain, all of it. 

From his head to his chest to the very tips of his fingers and his toes, he was overwhelmed with the pain. A never-ending thing, worse than anything physical he'd been forced to endure. He'd been burned alive, shot, choked to death on thick smoke and none of it was as strong as this. None of it hurt so much as this pain.

Soap could have died. 

Everything Roach had done, everything he did now, it was all to make a better life. A world away from the danger and the torment they’d all been forced to endure when they'd lived for the first time. And yet, he'd almost lost Soap to it. 

He'd allowed Soap to become a part of his group, a part of his team to stop those fuckers who'd ruined him and everything he loved. In doing so he'd endangered one of the people he cared about most. He'd risked one of the only things he knew that he could gain back from that first life. 

He was disgusted with himself. How could he have allowed that? He had Soap, he only had Soap. He didn't know if Ghost had been born again, if he'd died already, if he was too fucking late to do anything because he was worthless and slow and-

Another breath of air choked his lungs. He reached, with tears blocking his vision and pain in every move he made, not for help, but for a little cord around his neck. For the comfort of three rings he'd designed himself. For the comfort and the reminder of why he did this. Of why he would continue to do what was needed.

There were men out there who wanted to take everything from him. Who wanted to kill and hurt and torture him. To ruin him. And Roach knew, beyond anything, that he wouldn't let that happen. The only answer was to find them first. To burn them before they burned him.

As suddenly as he started, he stopped. 

He stood, his face wiped of all emotion. He didn't bother clearing the tears or their stains from his face. He just started forward again. His footsteps still felt heavy, his chest still hurt, his head was so full he was sure it was going to burst. He kept moving forward. He didn't look back, not in the direction he knew Soap and Gaz were, not to the past, not to anything. He stared forward, his face stoic. 

As he neared the room where their prisoner was, he pulled a knife from his belt. There was no show with it. He didn't twirl it around in his hand or admire the shine. The blade gave him no pleasure. It was a tool, a tool he didn't look twice at. He didn't have time. He kept moving forward, pushing the door open and observing the weakened man in front of him.

He moved forward. There was work to be done. 

#gary roach sanderson #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #soaproach #ghostroach #ghostroachsoap #angst #cod mw #call of duty #call of duty mw2

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 24

I'm wrapping up one story arch with this chapter, time to move on and move even deeper in to the TLoU world together with Frankie and the rest of the boys.

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings have their own post, please heed them if needed.

Series Master List

For a few minutes you all watch the flames take hold, but then Benny turns, his eyes are red from tears and smoke, but the grief has been pushed down. Instead his eyes are hard, his jaw set. He steps back towards the three of you, huddled together, holding each other up and you feel a shiver go down your back. You’ve never seen Benny like this, the rage simmering, barely contained just under the surface, is frightening, but Frankie and Pope seem to know what’s coming.

“I need to kill Myers, will you help me?”

It’s a question that doesn’t even need an answer, ‘Will you help me?’  When Benny walks towards the crowd outside the incinerator area you’re all behind him. The crowd is uneasy, the soldiers too, their guns still aimed slightly above the heads of the people. There seems to be even more people now than when you arrived, shifting around the edges of the street, some teens hanging on to lamp posts to see over the heads of the crowd. Frankie grips your wrist, not your hand, your wrist, as if he’s preparing to pull you to safety at a moment's notice. 

“Is it true they raped her?” someone calls from the crowd and Benny looks towards the voice. 

“Yes!” he calls back, his voice clipped and hard. “They took her for trying to protect a boy, they beat her, broke her bones, and raped her before throwing her dead in the back of a truck. Myers and his men.” The last word he spits out and the crowd hisses, their anger aimed at the soldiers in FEDRA uniforms. They are quickly becoming symbols of all the injustices FEDRA have dealt out to the people of this QZ. 

“Punish them!” someone roars from the back of the crowd and the shout is echoed across the street as more voices start shouting for revenge. The soldiers nervously adjust their grip on their rifles, glancing at their commanding officer in the middle. He aims his gun at the first line of people. 

“Go home!” he calls, “go home, FEDRA will make sure the woman’s death is investigated.” 

The crowd jeers at that, some booing loudly. 

��There’s no justice from FEDRA!” a woman calls from the crowd and many voices go up in agreement, the crowd is getting angry, more people are shouting, there’s a movement in the mass of people, surging back and forth. One of the soldiers lays down his gun, crouching to place it on the street and stepping to the side, joining the crowd as he tugs off his uniform jacket. He’s met with cheers and slaps on the back as he disappears into the crowd, his C.O. roaring at him to fall back in line. Frankie is tugging on your wrist, pulling you to the side of the street, still in front of the crowd but away from the soldiers. Pope taps Benny on the arm and motions him to follow. He glances over at Frankie and you and turns back to the crowd. 

“We will make sure there’s justice,” he calls, but even his booming military voice has trouble being heard over the din of the crowd. “Cox is the one responsible! Not these soldiers!” 

But the crowd either doesn’t hear him, or don’t want to. Surging forward, maybe pushed by those behind, the first lines rush towards the commanding officer and the men still standing next to him. Pope grabs Benny’s arm and pulls him to the side, just as the rifles fire. You feel Frankie’s hand around your wrist like a vice, pulling you along the edge of the crowd, pressed up against the side of the buildings until you reach an alley. Behind you, you can hear the screams and angry shouts of the crowd as the gunfire echoes across the street. Frankie pulls you further in, away from the crowd and you hear heavy footfalls behind you, Pope and Benny are right on your heels. 

“We need to get back to the apartment,” Pope calls, “We need to get our gear together, things are blowing up.” 

“Follow me,” Benny says, catching up to Frankie and you, “there’s a shortcut through the old city hall up ahead.” 

Benny leads you through the city, it’s eerily empty, the only people you see are moving towards the area you just left. You spot a few FEDRA soldiers running towards their HQ, walkie-talkies crackling with information about what’s happening, as you duck out of their way, instinctively avoiding to be seen. 

It doesn’t take your small group to get back to the apartments, “Meet me in my place in twenty minutes,” Pope orders, “grab supplies as if you were leaving the QZ, just in case, we might not be able to return here afterwards.” Frankie and Benny nod, Benny taking the stairs, three at a time, up to his place, while Frankie unlocks your apartment door. 

“Grab the backpacks,” he says, hurrying into the kitchen to open up the cupboard that holds all the rations he brings when he goes outside the wall, as well as your emergency rations, dried meat and fruit, freeze dried camping meals, anything lightweight and easy to carry. The backpacks are already partially packed, a habit Frankie had put you in, not trusting this new world enough to not expect that a quick get away might be needed. And he was right, because now you hastily stuffed an extra layer of clothes, ammo and food in before pulling both yours and Frankie’s handguns from their hiding place. With a twinge, you grabbed the two photo frames Hannah had given you, slipping the photos out, one of you and Frankie, and one of Frankie, Lucía and you. 

Less than twenty minutes later you both walk into Pope’s apartment, Benny is already there. 

“Ok, good,” Pope says as he sees you close the front door, “we need to make a plan, and quick.” 

“The plan is to get to Myers, and fucking kill him,” Benny growls. He’s changed out of his FEDRA uniform and is in civilian clothes like the rest of you. As he speaks he puts his gun at the small of his back, sticking into his pants. A rifle hangs over his shoulder, Pope has one and he hands another one to Frankie. You watch as they all seem to fall into well rehearsed movements, each man checking their guns and the ammo, making sure everything is in place. 

“As satisfying as killing Myers sounds, Ben, we need a plan,” Pope replies, “If that crowd moves towards HQ, which I think they’re probably already doing, we can’t just walk in there, it’ll be on high alert.”

“Yeah ok, but the crowd is going to cause a distraction for them, we should use that to our advantage.” Benny says, he’s put his backpack and rifle by the door and now he’s pacing while the rest of you stand in the living room. “The main gate isn’t the only way in, there’s a way through the sewers, it was cleared just a few weeks ago. We go in there, find Myers, and Cox too, preferably, and end this whole thing in one go.” 

“That sounds like an idea, we come from behind and take them out one by one and they won’t see it coming,” Pope nods and Frankie rubs his hand over his beard. 

“How do we get out of HQ? If we’re spotted we’ll have every FEDRA soldier in the compound on our tails.” 

“There won’t be many, as long as the crowd is at the main gate, they’ll be distracted. And for the rest, we just make sure we’re not spotted,” Benny shrugs as if it’s the easiest thing in the world to sneak in the backway and take out two high ranking FEDRA officers. 

“Let’s start by going down there and seeing what the situation’s like,” Pope says, picking up his backpack and shouldering it and you bend to do the same. Frankie puts his hand on your shoulder to stop you. 

“You stay here, cariño, we’ll come back here when it’s done.” 

You open you mouth to snap back at him, he’s fucking crazy if he thinks you’re staying here alone when they go off on their mission, but Pope beats you to it. 

“That’s not a good idea, Frankie. FEDRA knows she’s with you, this is the first place they’ll come looking for any of us.”

“Can you go and stay with someone until we’re back?” Frankie’s looking at you again and you shake your head. 

“Frankie, I’m not staying behind, I’m coming with you,” you say, locking eyes with him, “There is no fucking way I’m just gonna sit and wait for you three to maybe come back.” There’s a hard edge to your voice and Frankie looks anxious, you can see his eyebrows knitting together as he sees the determination in your face. “And if things go bad and you have to run, what are you gonna do, detour to come pick me up first?” Your eyebrows shoot up, challenging him and Frankie looks unhappy, reaching up to take your hand and say something but Benny cuts him off. 

“I’ve been training her for five years, she can handle herself.” 

“She’s not a soldier, Benny,” Frankie grimaces over his shoulder, he’s still looking at you, pleading silently with you. 

“No, she’s not, but I’ve taught her how to fight, and you’ve made sure she can handle a gun. Christ, Fish,” Benny rolls his eyes, “I’m not saying put her front and center, but at least she’ll be useful and she’ll be safer with you than alone if FEDRA comes looking for us.”

Frankie’s jaw moves, he’s gritting his teeth while you stare at him, he knows that face, that expression, he’s not going to be able to convince you to stay. And a part of him knows Benny is right, you’re safer with them than on your own right now, it makes sense for you to come, much as he hates the idea. 

“Ok,” he says finally, “but you have to stay behind me all the time and do exactly as I say, cariño,” his voice is firm but you can see the worry bubbling behind his eyes, his hand squeezing your fingers tight. You squeeze back, reassuring him. 

“Yes, Frankie, I promise, I’ll stay right behind you.” 

He nods, “Alright, let's go then before I change my mind.”

It doesn’t take long for the four of you to get to FEDRA HQ, the warehouse area. The streets are still empty and as you get closer you can hear a large crowd shouting and yelling, things are definitely kicking off in the QZ. As you clear the last alley leading up to the warehouses you walk into the crowd, Benny leading the way, Frankie behind him followed by you, and Pope, at Frankie’s request, at the rear, covering your back. As you get closer to the main gate the voices around you get more agitated, through the crowd you can see soldiers firing warning shots into the air and people around you are armed with baseball bats, paving stones and in some cases, real guns. 

“We need to get to the side of this,” Benny calls back towards the three of you, dodging around a group of young men, all brandishing baseball bats at the soldiers on the other side of the chain link fence. The gate has been closed but the fence isn’t that strong, and it’s only a fence, it can easily be climbed, the soldiers look nervous. 

You get to the other side, a little bit away from the main gate, and Benny shimmies up a lamp post to get an overview of what’s going on. Just as he drops down again you see a familiar face. 

“Hey, man!” Frankie exclaims, greeting the old man who’s pushed himself through the crowd towards your small group. It’s Herb, the veteran and counselor, who’d helped Frankie with his PTSD throughout the years. They still saw each other a couple of times a month, but nowadays it was more about just hanging out, Herb often came over to your apartment for dinner too. He’d been a soldier with FEDRA for a few years, but left about a year ago, disillusioned with the organization. 

“Benny, I heard about Hannah, I’m terribly sorry,” Herb claps him on the shoulder and Benny nods, his jaw tightening. 

“Thanks, Herb, ‘preciate it.”

“I’m guessing you boys aren’t here to just shout at FEDRA?” Herb says, glancing at the rifles hanging over each man's shoulder. 

“Do me a favor, Herb,” Benny says, looking over at the main gate, “can you make sure the crowd keeps the attention of the soldiers at the main gate?” 

Herb gives Benny a long look, his mouth twitching with a small smile, “Sure, I’ll make sure they’re busy.” He tilts his head towards the gate, “Many of the FEDRA soldiers have switched sides, joined the crowd, and Cox and his men have retreated to the main building, they looked scared, they’re losing support quickly.”

“Thanks, man, we owe you one,” Benny nods and looks over at the rest of you, “Let’s get moving, get this over with.” 

“Frankie,” Herb says, putting his hand on the younger man's shoulder, “I know you’ve got this, ok?” Reading between the lines you know Herb doesn’t mean the actual mission, but rather the potential of Frankie’s PTSD flaring up if things get messy. 

“Thanks, Herb, I’ll see you later, stay safe, man.” Frankie nods to Herb and takes your hand as you follow Ben, Pope clapping Herb on the back before falling in line behind you again. 

Ben leads the three of you out of the crowd, through an alley and a block north of the HQ. It’s a neighborhood that was damaged more by the initial bombings and the buildings and streets are broken up. Most of the materials for putting up the big QZ wall was taken from this area, leaving the area empty of inhabitants and hard to navigate. But Benny takes you through the broken structures and down into a bomb crater that has a shallow pool of water at the bottom. Sloshing through it he ducks under a tangle of low hanging broken pipes and into a well hidden opening. 

“Fuck, this place still reeks,” Pope coughs from behind you as the distinct smell of sewer hits your nose. You pull up the front of your sweater to cover your nose, breathing through your mouth as you all pull out and switch on your flash lights. 

“What did they clear this place from, Ben?” Frankie asks, his mouth and nose covered by his hoodie. 

“Rats, a few infected and a lot of rubble.” Benny replies, shining the light further into the tunnel, glancing back to check everyone is ready to go. 

“I really hope you’re sure they got all the infected,” Frankie says. You hope so too, you haven’t had to deal with an infected since your dramatic entrance to the QZ five years ago and you don’t like the idea of having to face one in this dark tunnel. 

“We go quietly, cover our bases,” Ben says, moving forward, “follow my lead.” 

“Since when did Benjamin Miller become our C.O?” you hear Pope chuckle behind you and you can’t help the nervous snort that escapes you, earning you and Pope a frown from Frankie. 

The tunnel isn’t completely pitch black at first, thankfully, there are holes in the roof from the bombs where daylight filters through. But as you go further in, under the buildings bordering the warehouse area and FEDRA HQ, daylight disappears and all you can see is the patch of whatever ground or wall your flashlights can illuminate. Smaller sewage tunnels break off from the main ones, most of them look blocked and too small for a human. The larger ones have been sealed shut by FEDRA, you don’t want to consider the possibility of what’s inside them, the tunnels are not quiet, you can hear scratching and groans, either from rats and the buildings settling, or from something else, it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Reaching out you take hold of Frankie’s hand, squeezing it tight and he pulls you closer. 

“I’ve got you, cariño, I won’t let anything happen to you,” he mumbles, low enough for Pope and Benny to not hear. You know he can’t promise you that, but it still makes you feel a bit better as you move further in through the darkness, your hand safely tucked in his. . 

It feels like you’ve walked through the darkness for an hour but in reality, it’s only been about ten minutes when Benny finally stops. The tunnel ahead is blocked off, sealed shut, and on the wall there’s a ladder leading up to a round manhole cover. Ben climbs to the top and pulls out his gun, the heavy lid moves easily as he pushes it upwards with one hand, carefully peering out over the edge. When he’s certain the area is clear he gently pushes the cover to the side and silently sets it down. Frankie follows after him, then you and Pope last. You’ve emerged in a basement area, dimly lit by fluorescent lights on the ceiling and what looks like old marketing material for a printing shop stored along the walls. Benny signals down the hallway, you can see a staircase at the end of it and you all walk quietly towards it. 

Making your way up through the building the three men fall into their practiced rhythm of clearing the rooms and hallways you pass through. Pope stays close to you, covering everyone’s back with quick sweeps behind him. Frankie and Pope stalk forward, guns raised as they peer through windows, sweep rooms and scan hallways. The building only has three floors above ground but it’s long. You clear the main entrance area and take the back stairs up to the second floor, avoiding the large curved staircase that loops around the open atrium of the entrance hall. 

The second floor is empty as well but the windows here give you a clear view of the main gate into the warehouse area, the crowd is still there, loud and angry. You can hear them through the windows and as you watch, waiting with Pope while Frankie and Benny clear a new set of rooms, you see the crowd surge forward, the chain link fence almost buckling under the pressure. It won’t be long before they break through. The soldiers are firing at the crowd, shouts are going up, but there are too many people, not enough soldiers. You see protesters fall but those behind push forward, the fence buckling and finally giving, falling flat to the ground as the protesters rush forward, towards the soldiers. 

You tap Pope’s shoulder and signal to the window. He watches for a few seconds and motions for you to move forwards. Frankie turns when he hears your footsteps and Pope points to the window. Benny turns as well and sees the crowd moving. 

“Myers and Cox will run if they see the crowd breaking through, they must be on the third floor, let's move up,” Benny whispers. The hallway you’re in is opening up onto the second floor of the atrium, curving along the building towards the stairs up to the third and final floor with a glass railing giving you a clear view of the main entrance hall below. Benny signals to Frankie to cover him while he opens the door to the back stairs, suddenly you hear running feet coming down the stairs at the other end of the atrium. Pope quickly grabs your arm and pulls you into the hallway again, Benny and Frankie duck in through the door to the back stairs, quickly scanning the stairwell. But a shout goes up from the other end, you’ve been spotted. 

“They’re in the building!” someone shouts, “Open fire, take them out!” 

“Cox,” Pope hisses behind you, shoving you further back and out of harm’s way as four men come down the stairs and start shooting. The curved staircase leading down to the first floor has a solid wall railing and with Frankie and Pope covering him, Benny darts across the hallway, ducking behind it. It gives him a better vantage point to take out Cox’s men and one of them soon drops with a shout. There’s not much cover for them at their end, only the wall of the staircase going up and the angle makes it difficult for them, giving your guys an advantage. Either bullets will run out or Cox and his men will have to retreat, they’re not getting past the four of you. You can sense Frankie’s eyes flitting to you, making sure you’re staying behind the cover of the wall in the hallway. You’re pressed against it, your gun drawn, but you stay put as Frankie had told you. 

Cox and his two remaining men start retreating, back up the stairs, and Benny and Pope advance forward, while Frankie remains behind, still in the doorway, covering them. He motions you forward to join him as Cox and the other men disappear up the stairs, Benny and Pope in pursuit. Just as you reach Frankie, you see Myers. He’s come down the back stairs behind Frankie with two other men, you shout a warning but he’s already rushing at Frankie, grabbing his gun arm and slamming him against the opposite wall. Frankie groans under the impact as Myers shoves him aside and lunges at you, you’ve raised your gun but not fast enough. Your shot goes wide, hitting the wall. You quickly dodge backwards, out into the hallway. From the corner of your eye you see Pope running back, the gunshot has alerted him and Benny to the new danger. Myers has longer legs and even though you back up fast, he’s on you with two quick strides as your back hits the railing, his hand outstretched to grab your gun. But his momentum pushes you backwards and you lose your footing, instinctively you grab his arm and your stomach lurches as you realize you’re falling backwards, pulling him with you. 

You think you hear a shout above you but you don’t have time to react, you smack down hard on the atrium floor, the wind rushing out of your lungs. At the last second you remember to protect your head and relax, Benny’s training kicking in. Myers lands hard next to you, you hear him groan and you try to make your limbs move, your breaths coming in small, shallow gasps as you struggle to regain your breath. You flop onto your belly and push yourself up, nothing seems broken but everything hurts and your legs are shaking. Your one saving grace is that Myers is just as winded as you, by the time he’s on his feet you’ve managed to move away from him. 

From above you hear shouts, through the glass railing you can see Pope fighting one of Myers’s men and by the sounds of it, Frankie is battling the second one just out of sight, shouting your name, there’s an edge of desperation to his voice and you can hear grunts from the other man as his fits make contact.  

“Fucking kitchen whore,” Myers growls at you, “should’ve taken you in with that other cunt, let you both have it.” He’s stalking towards you, cracking his neck as if to check that it’s not broken. You glance around you, your gun has fallen behind Myers, out of reach, and he smirks when he sees you look for it. He lunges for you then, and you dodge but you’re still trying to catch your breath, your legs unsteady and he gets hold of your hoodie, yanking you towards him, his other hand reaching for your hair. He’s big and has at least a foot on you in height, but as he glares down at you, you hear Benny’s voice in your head ‘I’m twice the size of you, use that against me’.

Myers snarls again, his hand coming up to grab your hair but this time you're expecting it, grabbing hold him first and twisting yourself and him, forcing him to let go of your hoodie as he steps back and trips over your leg. He doesn’t fall, but swings at your head, so wildly you can see it coming a mile away, ducking under it and landing a punch right over his spleen, making him double over. You try to hit his jaw with your elbow but he stumbles away from you, clutching his side. As you spin around, your fists raised he straightens up, his face red and furious, panting hard. 

“I’m going to fucking kill you, you little bitch,” he sneers, lunging at you again, like a bull rush. It makes it easier for you to dodge him again, your adrenaline spiking, you can practically hear Benny yelling instructions at you as you drop your body low and swipe at Myers’s legs. He twists around, trying to reach you, but he quickly loses his balance and smacks down on his face, as you slip to the side. You run for your gun but a warning shout goes up from the floor above, Frankie is running down the stairs and Myers is on his feet again, rushing you. You turn too late to dodge him but stumble back out of reach of his wild swing, he grabs at your arm, opening himself up and it’s as if you’ve got Benny next to you, pointing at the exact spot he wants you to hit; ‘Right there, hit them hard here, and they’ll drop.’

Your elbow makes contact with Myers’s temple, a hard, sickening thud reverberates through your arm, and Myers keels over, a dead weight on the floor. Frankie’s on you a split second later, his gun trained on Myers while he glances at you, trying to look both at you and Myers at the same time. 

“Are you hurt?” he gasps, still winded from his own fight and the run down the stairs. 

“Everything fucking hurts,” you wince, as you get a chance to feel through your body, “but nothing is broken.” 

A gunshot rings out from the hallway above and you both spin around but relax when you see Pope wave from above. 

“Just disposing of the last one, you got Myers under control?” 

“‘Course they do, my girl took him down like a fucking champ!” Benny grins, jogging down the stairs, “that final punch made me wince.” He raises his gun to Myers and Frankie lowers his, coming over to you, not satisfied by your answer about nothing being broken. 

“You fell fifteen feet, cariño,” he gently runs his hands through your hair, feeling your scalp, “how are you even standing?” 

“I’m fine Frankie, I’m going to be a walking bruise in a few hours, but nothing is broken, I covered my head, just like Benny taught me.” 

“You were fucking amazing, taking him down like that,” Frankie smiles. A groan from Myers makes him turn around and from above you hear Pope call down. 

“Take care of Myers, Ben, we need to catch up to Cox.” 

“My pleasure,” Benny growls and aims his gun towards Myers head, the man flinches and holds his hand up, the fight has completely gone out of him now that he’s woken up to Benny staring down at him. 

“Please, don’t, don’t,” he groans, “I’ll do anything, I can get you supplies, guns, anything, please, please.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna give me my brother’s wife back?” Benny spits out, “She was my family.” He takes a step forward and bends down, his gun pressed to Myers forehead. 

“Wait,” you hiss, making Ben pause his movement, lowering his gun as you walk over to Myers. “If you get to kill him, I get to do this first.” Stepping up to his feet splayed on the floor, you kick at them, spreading his legs. 

“Don’t worry, it’ll stop hurting when he kills you,” you growl, and aim a vicious kick with all the momentum you can gather, into his groin. A collective wince goes up from the men behind you as Myers howls in pain. 

“Now you can kill him,” you say to Benny, turning around.

The shot rings out behind you as you make your way up the stairs to Pope on the second floor. He’s eyeing you with equal parts admiration and fear. 

“Fuck, hermana…” his voice trails off as you give him a dark look. Frankie and Benny come up behind you and you catch Frankie giving you a worried look. Benny just claps you on the shoulder. 

“That’s done, now we get Cox,” he says, jogging off down the hallway towards the stairs Cox and the two remaining men disappeared up.

The three of you follow him, Pope and Ben, quickly scanning each doorway until you hit the final door, leading to the roof. You hang back while the three men advance up the staircase that leads to the roof. The door at the top of the stairs is ajar and Benny does a quick sweep before stepping through it. The roof is empty and you hear Benny curse. 

“Fuck, they’ve made a bridge across to the wall!” he calls, pointing over to a makeshift bridge, made with planks and iron girders, that makes it easy to cross to the next building and then over a second bridge to the top of the wall. “They must’ve built it only in the past few weeks, I didn’t even know it was here.” 

“There!” you point across the buildings, further along you can make out three men running along the wall. 

“C’mon,” Benny orders, taking off at a run, over the first bridge. It doesn’t take long for the four of you to cross over to the wall but by the time you get there, Cox and his men have spotted you. In the distance you can see him wave at his men to hold you off, as he runs further. Frankie’s hand on your shoulder forces you to crouch down behind some rubble when the shots start ringing out. You flinch as a shot bites into the wall close to you, a cloud of dust going up around the hole it leaves. But the two FEDRA soldiers are no match for the veteran Delta Force men, covering each other they quickly take them out and advance forward. Part of you is terrified at being shot at, the adrenaline of your fight with Myers wearing off, as you continue to jog behind Frankie, going after Cox. But another part of you is shouting with pride at seeing the three men, your men, working together with easy ruthlessness to take down anyone that stands in their way. They communicate wordlessly, only hand signals needed, to deal with any threat and when they advance they move in a precise pattern, each man knows where the other two are at any moment.

Cox is still some way away, he’s reached the main guard tower, the one that sits over the main gate to the QZ and it seems he’s realized he’s walked into a dead end, doing a quick spin inside the guard tower before he drops out of sight behind the waist high walls. The wall on the other side of the guard tower is a long straight stretch without any cover. The three Delta Force men would easily take him down with a single shot. And the only way down from the wall is by a wooden staircase, open and unprotected from above, it hugs the wall right between the guard tower and the four of you, he’d be a sitting duck. 

To your surprise the guard tower is empty, it’s usually manned by at least two soldiers at all times. But as you’ve moved along the top of the wall, you’ve heard shouts and gun fire from the QZ, maybe they have been called away to help quell the riots that have clearly broken out all across the QZ now. But there’s another noise, one that’s growing in level, from the other side of the wall. 

“Infected,” Frankie hisses, looking over the edge of the wall. The noise from inside the QZ must’ve attracted them because usually the soldiers only need to take out a few stragglers that come close enough, simple target practice if you forget your shooting at humans. Now there’s a horde of infected, runners they call them, rushing towards the gate, and no soldiers to take them out. The gate’s closed, of course, and thick, but as you see what looks like about fifty infected hurl themselves at the gate, you pray silently that it’s thick enough. This was not something any of you had anticipated happening when the riot started. 

Crouching down behind the angle of one of the walls, Pope quickly peeks over the wall too. 

“Fuck, not good, not good!” he calls over to Benny, who’s crouched down behind a crate just up ahead, “Will the gate hold for them?” 

“Yeah, it should hold,” he replies, still keeping an eye on Cox. He’s also spotted the infected by the gate and ducked his head inside the guard tower again. 

While Benny and Frankie cover him, Pope advances and then repeats the process with Benny and then you and Frankie. But Cox, who has been taking pot shots at you before, has stopped shooting. 

“Hopefully he’s out of ammo,” Benny says to Frankie as Pope makes another run, “Makes our job easier.” 

The final bit of cover for the four of you is just fifteen feet from the guard tower and as you all reach it, Benny calls out to Cox. 

“Give up, Cox, you’re out of ammo it seems, and nowhere to go.” 

“You get any closer, Miller, and you’re all dead!” Cox shouts, his voice shrill, his nerves betraying him. 

“I’ll take my chances,” Benny calls back, “you’re outnumbered.” 

“No, if you come any closer, I’ll make sure we’re all dead!” Cox shouts again, and this time his voice takes on a manic edge that has your hairs standing on end and you look over at Benny, he’s frowning with a slight shake of his head, he doesn’t understand either. 

“I mean it, let me go or I’ll open this fucking gate and let them in!” 

Your eyes go wide and you see your chock reflected in the faces of the others. 

“You know there’s controls for the main gate in here, Miller!” Cox calls, “And I’d rather let this whole fucking QZ get overrun than face that fucking riot you started. All over some fucking girl, Miller! Look at what you’ve done! It’s the fucking end of the world, shit happens, girls die!” His voice is hysterical, panic setting in. 

“Don’t do anything rash, Cox,” Benny calls back to him, “let’s just get off this wall and we’ll sort something out for you.” 

“No! Where’s Myers huh?! You fucking killed him already! I know!” 

“Benny,” Pope whispers, “we need to take him out before he actually opens the gate.” 

Benny nods and glances back at the guard tower, Cox is crouched down out of sight.

“I’ll keep talking to him, you sneak up and deal with him, kill him if you have to.” 

“That crowd is going to tear me to pieces,” Cox shrieks from behind the wall as Pope starts to move towards the tower. “The infected would be better, at least then you all die, not just me! I never did anything but good for this QZ! I kept you all safe for years! Years! Ungrateful fucking people! I’m going to fucking kill you all!” he screeches and you suddenly hear the telltale sound of metal scraping against stone. 

“No! Pope, stop him!” Benny yells, launching himself towards the tower as Pope covers the last few steps. You glance up over the wall and see Pope fire his gun at Cox, he’s out of sight but the heavy thud as his body hits the ground is enough to tell you he didn’t miss.. 

Benny slams his hand over the gate controls, “Stop, stop, fucking stop,” he yells, his voice taking on an edge of desperation you’ve never heard from him before. Frankie runs to the inside ledge of the wall and looks over the edge. 

“They’re inside!” he calls, “About twenty of them, we need to fucking go!”

You run to him and glance over the wall too, fear pools in the pit of your belly as you see the runners spread out, chasing towards the sounds of the riots further inside. Frankie quickly swings his rifle off his shoulder and aims, quickly taking out three infected, but a handful have already sprinted past the first corner, their speed and numbers breaking down the chain link fences that stand inside the quarantine area. Benny and Pope swing around and start shooting too, you bring your handgun up but Frankie stops you. 

“Save your ammo, you’re too far away to be able to take them down with that.” he says, bringing the scope of the rifle up to aim at another runner. 

“Stairs!” Benny yells, swinging his rifle around to the wood stairs where several infected are coming up. 

“We need to go!” Frankie yells again, taking your wrist. The infected are charging up the stairs, too many for you to take out in time. Benny gets off a final shot, momentarily slowing down the runners by killing the first one, his body falling back down the stairs. And then you’re running, Frankie’s hand like a vice around your wrist as the four of you sprint back the way you came. Behind you can hear the screech of the infected but you daren’t glance back to see how many there are. Your lungs are aching, Frankie’s long legs almost dragging you along as you try to keep up with his strides. When you reach the first bridge your chest aches and you’ve got a stitch jabbing your side. The bridge creaks as you run across it and Frankie drags you towards the next one, Pope just behind. 

“Benny! What the fuck! Move!” he yells as he realizes that Benny isn't right behind him. But Ben has stopped at the end of the first bridge, his hands frantically searching for something at the edge. 

“Benny!” you scream, the runners are so close, the first one already on the bridge, going right for him. Pope starts running back over the rooftop towards the bridge as Frankie swings his rifle off his shoulder again and takes aim, the first infected dropping just feet from Benny. 

“Benny!” you yell again, you can feel your voice cracking with panic but at the very last second, Benny finds what he’s looking for and yanks something out of the bridge, tumbling backwards with the effort. The bridge groans and collapses, the planks slipping off the iron girders and tumbling into the alley below, with a great clank the girders go the same way, taking the infected down. 

You feel the air leave your lungs as Benny stumbles to his feet, Pope at his side, and the two men run towards you and Frankie, over the second bridge. 

“You’re fucking insane, Miller!” you slap his arm harder than you mean to before hugging him. You can feel him breathing hard under your cheek. 

“We need to go, it’s not safe here,” Frankie says, clapping Benny’s shoulder, “Fucking awesome job, man.” 

“Herb’s idea, he implemented it a few years ago, a genius idea.” Benny lets go of you, squeezing your arm lightly before moving towards the door back into the HQ building. 

“I think we need to get out of the QZ and as far away as possible,” Pope says and Frankie nods. 

“Yeah, Cox killed everyone, fucking sick bastard. I never thought he'd be that twisted.” 

“Getting out of the QZ is your specialty,” Benny says, nodding at Santi, “lead the way, Pope.” 

Chapter 25

Tag list: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko  @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa

#frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x reader (you) #benjamin miller #santiago garcia #tlou au #triple frontier fic #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction

[yeahspider]

chill kill🫀

Ve’s note - hyunjin x gn! reader . angst . just pain and sadness . mentions of death . idk where this came from but here it is . sparsely proofread . writing this made me sad . i hope this shreds your heart to pieces like it did mine <333

fluorescent lights shine down harshly on your skin . highlighting every ounce of exhaustion in your body . bones heavy with the events that conspired earlier morning , you watch as the clock ticks up to the end of the hour .

58

59

60

6 am . you’ve been in the police station for two hours now . and you’ve seen no one except the officer that brought you in . the clock was starting to irritate you . a knock to the door . you don’t respond . it’s not like they actually required your permission to enter . the knock was a courtesy . a chance for you to compose yourself . but you weren’t sheet music . notes weren’t being strung together for the listener’s pleasure .

the cop enters . taking in your form . he pulls his chair out and sits in front of you . the screeching of its legs on the linoleum floor making you jump . knees bumping against the underside of the table . the officer , who introduced himself as officer smith apologized for scaring you . another courtesy , one you didn’t deserve .

so would you like to tell me what happened earlier tonight ?

you heard officer smith pose the question . would you like to tell him ? no . of course not . but it doesn’t really matter what you want . you don’t have the privilege to want . you had done something bad . very bad . and now you had to face the consequences . you listened to the wrong person . but does that even matter ? no one made you do anything . every choice you made tonight was of your own volition . which makes you guiltier in more ways than one . with a deep breath and a trembling voice you started to tell your story .

it was around 8 pm the night before . your boyfriend was driving you to the drop location . music filling the silence between you . nerves filling your veins as you thought over what you were about to do . you were snatched out your thoughts by hyunjin placing a hand on your thigh .

“where’s your head at babe?” you heard him ask . but really where was your head ? was it in your feet ? making your press them into the sole of your shoe . in your legs ? making them bounce to a rhythm only you could hear . you didn’t know for sure . you weren’t sure of anything except his hand squeezing your thigh .

“are you having second thoughts ?” you vehemently disagreed with a shake of your head . you would never second guess him .

“good girl . you remember what your meant to do right ?” you nod once again . words seemingly leaving you . you’ve played this role dozens of times before . you walk into the bank . pretend to make a deposit while hyunjin comes in staging a robbery . it’s simple . he keeps everyone distracted, you rob the safe . nothing could go wrong . it never does . until it did .

whether your intel was faulty on purpose or not neither of you knew about the second armed guard . in a matter of seconds the situation escalated . a robbery turned into a murder . you couldn’t stomach the sight of someone pointing a gun at hyunjin . so you did what you felt was right . you pulled the trigger twice . hitting the guard in the throat and chest . all hell broke lose when the second bullet pierced the man’s chest . screams sounded off left and right . bodies scrambling for the exit .

you stood frozen in shock . you just killed someone . a numbness spread through your body as you looked at the fallen man . hyunjin cursed . it was never supposed to go this far . you felt him grab your hand as you both took off in a run . the getaway car waiting for you as you heard sirens pulling up to the scene . they recognized the two of you immediately shits firing as hyunjin turned the ignition . yelling at you to duck from the incoming bullets .

racing between roads and side streets to escape you couldn’t help but zone out . you fucked up and bad . you were a murderer and just made the love of your life an accomplice . you felt the car flip spin out of control as a bullet hit the tire . flipping it once, twice, three times before it finally came to a halt .

everything hurt . groans left your body as you turned to look at hyunjin . he was few yards away and not moving . you smelt smoke . the car was on fire . you had to get out and reach hyunjin . he had to be okay . fumbling around for the seatbelt you unfastened it and crawled out the burning car . glass cut your skin and the pavement your hands as you dragged your body to him .

your bloodied hands reach out to him . cradling his head in your lap . you kept repeating to him the he was gonna be okay . neither of you believed it . you watched as he tried to tell you something . his last words couldn’t escape past his lips . you brushed his hair away from his face as you shushed him . wanting him to conserve his energy . you knew what he wanted to say . he always knew he’d meet his end like this . in the arms of his love . he just wishes it wasn’t so soon .

sirens and shouts surround you as you savor the last few moments you have with him . with a final kiss to his lips you watch the life leave his body . you wish it was you instead . you couldn’t live on an earth without him by your side . you screamed as an officer dragged your body away. from his . the look of death permanently painted on his face .

the officer in front of you was still waiting on a response . he had just caught the notorious couple robbers famously know for being members of the stray kids family . he was definitely going to get a raise after this . so he waited patiently . all he needed was names . a confession .

you looked up at the officer . all will gone from your body .

“i did something bad . I lost someone good because of it .”

#stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids headcanons #stray kids fluff #yeahspider #hwang hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin angst #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin fanfic #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyujin imagines

[manicplank]

can we have hc on witnessing a robbery, burglary, assault etc

Witnessing a crime

Peppino: Uh oh... Someone's trying to rob that guy over there! He runs over in Mach 3 and body slams the robber! The guy tries to thank him and reward him with cash, but Peppino turns it down. Doing a good deed is all he needs in payment. He goes home with a smug smirk on his face. Is that robber gonna be ok? Probably not. Oh well! So shines a good deed in a weary world.

Gustavo: Oh no! Someone's robbing the convenience store! Let's go, Brick! They bust through the door and chase the robbers out! It's hard not to run from a giant rat! The owner is thankful. They did break the door, though... He offers to pay, but the owner of the store is simply grateful that he no longer has a gun to his head. Okay, then! He oats Brick on the head. "Well done, buddy! Now let's go home and watch a movie. Maybe we can stop somewhere and get you a treat!"

Mr. Stick: Two people are fist fighting! He runs over and blends into the crowd. He's got 50 bucks on that guy! Who's in the bet? He ends up losing the bet. Wait... The guy who won, is that... The Noise?! Hey, wait, no, don't leave! Mr. Stick has a bone to pick with you!

Pepperman: Someone is vandalizing that wall with graffiti! Here comes Pepperman to save the day! Ok, so what you want to do is use less of the red and more of the blue, it gives it a more realistic touch. You're doing great! Okay, now try using some of the purple next to the blue. [sirens] SHIT, IT'S THE COPS! RUN!!!

The Vigilante: A gang of ne'erdowells is robbing the Pig City Bank! Thankfully, The Vigilante is here to save the day! He kicks open the doors, which takes out the watchmen. His gun clicks as he points at the thieves. There's three of them but only one of him. He pulls the trigger and slams the hammer back so he can fire again and again. All three criminals are taken down! Hooray for The Vigilante!!! The Pig City Police arrive to take the criminals to jail.

The Noise: He's in a fight with someone. They're probably fighting over something stupid. His nose is bleeding, but the other guy is black and blue all over. One more punch to the jaw, and the other dude is knocked out! The crowd around them cheers. Noise! Noise! Noise! He runs out of there before the cops arrive! The other guy can't seem to remember what happened, and The Noise never gets caught.

Noisette: Oh gosh! Someone's assaulting that poor old lady! Noisette runs over in a panic, flailing her arms. "HELP! HELP! THERE'S A BOMB STRAPPED TO MY CHEST (sobs) OH MY GOD, SOMEONE HELP!" The robber scatters off, but so does the old lady. However, the robber was unsuccessful. She wipes off her shoulders. She learned that trick from The Noise. It works every time!

Fake Peppino: A gang of bad shrimp try to break into Bruno's despite the signs on the door. He hears the boards being broken... Intruders! He walks over in his usual form to see the gang, and they laugh at him. "What're you gonna do, weirdo?" They brandish their knives. Suddenly, Fakey warps into a giant, horrific deity. He wails demonically and charges at them. They run out screaming, but Fakey manages to grab one. He throws him in his mouth and chews him up. Mm, yummy! Wait, come back, you guys are tasty!

Pizzaface: A gang of bad pigs try to break into the fourth floor. Not on his watch! He slams face down and squashes them like flies. Well, that was easy. "Hey, Faker! I've got some ham for ya!"

Pizzahead: Someone broke into Pizzaboy's PizzPizza, and they're avoiding all the alarms, so the bots aren't engaged. They're trying to loot the place. Hell no! He rushes down there and sneaks up on the guy. He gets behind them and stabs their neck repeatedly with a Pizzaboy Official Merch Knife! Available today at your local Pizzamart! (Not suitable for children under 3.) Another body to feed to the garbage disposal- er, I mean, Fakey.

Pillar John: Someone broke into the tower. Hmmm... If he can knock himself over, he can activate Pizza Time, which will alarm Pizzaface. How would he do that, though? Maybe if he, URG! Twists and, EGH, wiggles enough he can- (THUD!) IT'S PIZZA TIME! Whoo, that was tough, but he did the right thing.

Gerome: Several times have gang members tried to rob him in The Pig City. He tries to explain to them that he's broke and doesn't necessarily get paid. They don't care. Little do they know, he has a mop, and he knows how to weaponize it! Slam! He hits one of them in the face with the wet side of the mop, and they're knocked out. "Now... Who wants some?!" The rest of the gang runs away, leaving their buddy behind.

This one was fun to write.

#pizza tower #noise #the noise #headcanon #pizzahead #noisette #peppino #peppino spaghetti #fake peppino #pepperman #the vigilante #mr. stick #pillar john #pizzaface #pizza tower gerome #pizza tower gustavo #brick the rat

[love-toxin]

thinking of your plagas leon fic again and ideas…

It’s hard to enjoy the nice starry night when running away from an infected soldier. You escaped from the castle’s walls before he could finish counting to 10 and you run to the nearest exit and that turns out to be the courtyard.

The lush green of your surroundings helping hide you, it was a perfect hideout. It also helped that before Plagas had Leon in the palm of its hands, he and you cleared out all that had stalked the courtyard’s bushes. The serenity of the green courtyard really set in with the moonlight cascading onto its plants, while the stars shone brightly in the night sky. The buzzing of various native insects was only things you could hear, with the exception of your beating heart in your ears. It seemed so peaceful, and the reality of your dire situation never really set in. But the familiar sounds of Leon’s gun popping in the humid night air broke your momentary relaxation. The sounds are getting increasingly clear as he gets closer to you. You take one more deep breath before making a break for the marble bridge that connects both sides of the courtyard. Gaining distance between the infected Leon and yourself seemed to be the only thing that prevented your inevitable demise. As you started to run the way the path headed, you were instantly stopped by a CLANK! coming from your right foot and it instantly felt like a bone was broken. Your brain was almost overwhelmed at what you saw next.

An iron bear trap had sunk its teeth into your leg. The pain was excruciating and you let out a bloodcurdling scream. Even though Leon most likely was instantly notified of your location, you didn’t care, you needed that damn thing off and fast. Blood was flowing down your leg and onto the iron teeth staining it in the process. The knife! Instantly reaching down to your side, you find it empty of the knife that you momentarily stole from Leon. You instantly freeze, cringing at the memory of you nicking not-Leon in his handsome face. Foresight was a fickle bitch. More noises arise as you can hear someone’s heavy footsteps rapidly approaching, crunching the grass beneath every step. Your breathing becomes uneven and its rapid. He’s coming. The crunching is getting closer. The world around you is spinning. The footsteps are even closer. You’re going through shock. Your blood is dripping into the grass and blood loss is getting to you. As you set your head on grass, you start to try and make amends before you pass. It was your fault that Leon had been infected. Had he not been so worried with you, he probably wouldn’t have been infected and you wouldn’t currently be dying after risking your life trying to escape the very same man who became infected in your place.

I’m so sorry Leon… It’s all my fault.

Your vision starts to blur and go dark. The peaceful night sky had stars that twinkled brightly in it. The pale moonlight cascaded across your injured body. The cold plants of the courtyard, you failed to escape, cradled your cold and bloodied body. The blurry darkness in your vision consumed you, with your ears picking up one last crunch.

Your head pounded and your foot throbbed with a dull pain. Wait you were alive? Jolting up in surprise, earning you a painful jolt throughout your body, your surroundings are more than familiar. You were stuck in that dammed castle again. The fire roared in the fireplace next to you, it’s flame brought you warmth. The room was dimly lit by it and sitting in the chair in the corner of the room was an awfully familiar and handsome face. “Oh? Look who decided to wake up from her thousand year nap.”

Leon.

BRO JUST DROPPING A WHOLE FIC IN MY INBOX !!!!!! 🥵🥵 i wanna.....wanna be chased.....imagine Leon sitting far from you because the smell of your blood makes him so needy, and bandaging your wound was almost enough to make him pounce on you.....but now he has all the time in the world to spend with you as you recover 🤪

#plagas!leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #yandere leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil 4 #ellie chats #anons

[melishade]

Number 16? What if Optimus appears in episode 1?

This ask game

When the Survey Corps heard about Optimus' arrival in Shinganshina and see the aftermath of Optimus' intervention.

The Survey Corps was having a bad day. Well, they've always had bad days. It was never easy for them.

They had always suffered heavy losses when they came back from their expeditions from outside the walls. But when they returned, and they had given the arm of Moses to the weeping mother, something inside of their Commander Keith clearly snap. He broke. He broke down in front of everyone and walked away in shame. The next thing they all new, Erwin had become the 13th Commander of the Survey Corps.

Erwin had to go through protocol. Appoint scouts to leader positions, inform Zackley about the change, but then...they heard about the wall being breached. About a large Colossal Titan with no skin that was as tall as the wall, kicking the gate in and letting titans inside.

"Five minutes after you get this shit show, Shinganshia's under attack," Levi had remarked.

"Yes, Levi, the irony is not lost on me," Erwin sighed.

"More like a bad omen," Mike added.

The report was a mere hours ago, considering that information had to be transferred by horseback. But the Survey Corps were on high alert. They immediately got their supplies, their 3D gear, mounted their horses, and headed towards Shinganshina.

But Erwin had also heard an extremely conflicting report, everyone heard the report: the titans were fighting each other. An Armored Titan was fighting a Metal Titan. The titans were fighting each other. Both had displayed intelligence, and the Metal Titan had killed the Armored Titan, protecting Wall Maria from falling to the titans. Other reports were still hard to accept, but a titan protecting humans instead of killing? What could that possibly mean for humanity as a whole?

When they arrived to Shinganshia, the Garrison reluctantly opened the gate to allow them into the walled city.

"The Metal Titan's at the entrance, killing titans with his strange weapons," a soldier, Hannes, informed.

"Did you just say he?" Hanji started to grin.

"No," Mike warned them.

"He's been trying to prevent more titans from coming into the city, but we don't have the resources to get everyone else out," Hannes continued.

"What do you mean by 'he'?" Levi demanded, "There's no way a titan is sentient."

"Check for yourself, but we need help getting people out," Hannes requested, "Some are still stuck in their homes."

Erwin turned to Nanaba. "Help with recovery and evacuation."

"Yes, sir!" Nanaba saluted before addressing her fellow comrades on what to do next. Erwin immediately flew over the ruined houses of Shinganshina, followed by Levi, Mike, and Hanji. The quartet examined their surroundings and were internally horrified. The day that they had all feared: the titan's invading, had come true. But...where were the titan bodies? The decaying corpses? Where was the corpse of the Armored Titan? They were practically non-existent. There was rubble and human remains. But nothing else.

"Sir," Mike called out as he pointed ahead. The four of them landed on the houses near the broken gate, and were stunned at the sight. A giant, metal, titan adorned in red and blue stood in front of the damaged gate with a glowing blue gun for an arm. A titan started lumbering through the entrance, but they all witnessed the sight of the gun glowing brighter before firing at the titan before him. The titan was shot in the head, but instead of regenerating, it's body began to erode and fade away. It collapsed on the ground before turning to bones, and then smoke.

"Holy shit," Even the captain was taken off-guard by the sight. They had just witnessed a titan kill another titan without even touching the nape of the neck! How!

"I must study him!" Hanji tried to leap forward, but Mike quickly grabbed them and wrestling them back. Hanji yelled in protest, but their cry quickly got the attention of the titan, who looked back at them. Erwin had noticed the being wearing a mouthguard of some kind, and the blue of its eyes mirrored that of the weapon for an arm.

"Hello!" Hanji greeted with a wave.

"Are you the reinforcements the others have informed me of?" the titan asked them. It speaks. It actually speaks! It didn't have a mouth but it spoke!

"Yes," Erwin spoke, trying his best to keep his composure, "My name is Erwin Smith, the newly appointed Commander of the Survey Corps."

"I cannot move from my post, Commander," The titan explained, "I wish to aid the humans that need to evacuate the city, but if I leave, more titans may come in. Can you provide assistance in removing the civilians from the area?"

"We are currently working on that, but there is concern about your intentions-!"

"I do not consume humans," The titan automatically replied.

"That was quick." Levi narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"My race requires a different fuel source for consumption," the titan explained as he shot at another titan, "One that I will need to locate in a different time. For now, I wish to focus my attention on the task at hand."

"I need to take notes," Hanji grunted as they tried to get out of Mike's grip once more.

Erwin did his best to assess the situation with what he had, but he ultimately came to a conclusion. "Assist the others in evacuation."

"Erwin, you can't be serious," Mike said.

"This is an opportunity we can't waste," Erwin whispered to him before turning back to the titan, "If you are truly a sentient being, do you have a name?"

"My name is Optimus Prime," the titan answered.

"A name," Hanji squealed.

"Thank you for your assistance," Erwin said before turning to his comrades, "Play along for now."

(So someone asked for 30, but everything else is on the table.)

#attack on prime #transformers prime #tfp #attack on titan #snk #aot #shingeki no kyojin #send me asks #asks #ao3 #tfp optimus prime #tfp optimus #optimus prime #erwin smith #hanji zoe #levi ackerman #captain levi #mike zacharias #what if optimus appeared in the first episode of aot instead of episode 5 #maccadam #macadam #dialogue #dialogue prompt #dialogue prompts #survey corps

[yaatrickyassification]

YOOO!

CAN I REQUEST SAMUEL, GUN AND DG WITH A TRANS MASC S/O⁉️

just general hcs on how they'd react when their s/o comes out to them

LOVE UR WRITING BTW <33

Thank you for your request!

I'm not intelligible about this subject and have based my research on the internet, so I'm sorry if some things may get interpreted as wrong or offensive!

[ Samuel Seo, Park Jong Gun, DG/ James Lee x Trans masc! Reader ] - General headcanons on how they'd react to their s/o coming out to them.

Samuel Seo:

You broke down right in front of him, carrying this burden for so long was mentally and physically straining. He's immediately on you, a hand on your back that was awkwardly patting you to help anchor your emotions down. And his other hand was on your waist.

He pulled you closer to his chest, and though his affection and comfort were awkward and stiff, you knew that he meant well. His voice was deep and soothing, he was trying his best and it was enough for you. A genuine small smile now gracing your lips.

"Sorry."

A shake of his head was the answer to your apology, his lips now quirk upside down into a frown. "Don't be."

He never told you but he was quite confused about what Transmasculine is and what it entails, he then turned to the internet to research more about it. He wants him to be more knowledgeable about this subject so that he can make you feel much better about yourself.

He even resorted to asking Eli or his other colleagues at work, they didn't give any good ass advice though. So he just decided to man up and work this out himself together with you throughout this journey.

But he does manage to get his point across and tells you that he's fine with it and will accept whatever decision you come upon.

"No matter who you are, you'll always be my lover to me and that will never change."

Park Jong Gun:

He's clueless but he is observant, he does notice that something is wrong like you're hiding something from him but he doesn't pry into your matters, he isn't nosy.

And besides, he trusts you, if something bothers you, he knows that you'll come to talk to him. And if it's a person by chance, well, don't you think they kind of deserve to have their 206 bones in their body to be broken?

He is quite good at breaking things or limbs in question, after all.

When you finally talked to him about it, he was very relieved. Gun doesn't want to admit it but he was very worried about you, he thought he did something wrong and decided to buy you snacks, and peace treaties.

He hugs you after you come out to him, Gun hugs you like you were the fire in the middle of the snowstorm. You felt like your bones were cracking with how tight his embrace was. A gentle tap on his shoulder snaps him out of his reverie. "I can't breathe."

He smiled before letting you go out of his arms, "sorry, got overwhelmed for a bit."

"Aren't I supposed to be the one getting overwhelmed?"

When you explained one of your worries to him, he straight out gave you his black credit card and patted you on the head with a gentle expression on his usually scary face. "Don't mind what the other people will say, if they ever try to say bad things about you just buy all of their properties I have enough money to do that. And call me, I'll beat them up for you."

DG/ James Lee:

He knows about this topic a lot more than the other two, this man is constantly surrounded by the internet. It'll be a miracle if he didn't ever find out about it through his fans or social media.

He would also be able to pick up signs and will subtly interrogate you about it, but he won't force you into anything if you're uncomfortable, he's just curious.

When you finally confessed you were a nervous wreck because he just sat there with a cold ass expression on his face, you would have burst into tears if he didn't pull you into a hug. And it was all settled in a good way.

He will spoil you and buy you all of the things that you want with no hesitation, he has enough (too much actually) money for that.

He asks you about things that you are comfortable with and vice versa, and also asks about your pronouns and a new name, he loves saying your new name and will constantly mutter it to himself.

"[y/n], [y/n], [y/n]." A hum was let out of your lips as you turned your attention to DG's direction. "Hmm? What is it?"

"Nothing, I just really like your name, it suits you. I love you."

#yaatrickyassification #lookism #lookism webtoon #webtoon lookism #lookism x reader #samuel x reader #samuel seo #lookism samuel #samuel seo x reader #park jong gun #gun x reader #lookism gun #lookism webtoons #park jong gun x reader #dg lookism #dg x reader #lookism james lee #james lee #james lee x reader

[sparrow-orion-writes]

Standing easily in the centre of the circle, the sun fell against him. I watched from where I stood, my hand gripping cold metal to steady myself. I wanted to call out, to shout, but fear had taken my throat and stolen it closed. Wounded, bleeding, exhausted, I looked to him. I watched the way his breath steadied, the way it shook in that cavernous chest. One step, closer. Through the bodies, I could see his fingers twitch. The others were not armed enough - rudimentary things, baseball bats and knives, easy to access. One step, two. He waits, with all the eagerness of a lion about to feast. Though his tired eyes would often say otherwise, the glint now shown betrays him - he's enjoying this. The waiting, the hunt. A lion surrounded by prey. I knew, of course, absently. The way I know that there are planets out there somewhere that aren't our own. I knew he was a fighter, but often all I ever saw was a tired, ageing man. Until now. All it took was a flinch. Held eye contact broke and a knife flew from his grasp. I hadn't seen him grip it, only watched as it sliced through the thick neck of one. Another from behind. The crunch of bone and his own knife sunk between ribs. Three. Landed a hit on the back of his head. I flinched, and staggered forward. But there was no hesitation, just a burning heat to him and then the wail of breaking bones filling the silence. Four, stepped back in shock and felt the cool punch of a bullet to the chest. Five, six, seven. All in quick succession. The way he moved was something else. Coordinated. That man, the one I never see and always heard of. The simple pleasure of death lingered at his fingertips as he turned towards eight and nine. The last two still standing, not all dead, but most wishing they were. Most on their way too. Nine held a gun, levelled, but his hand shook. Eight stepped back behind him. It wasn't a lack of ability - these were both strong people, number nine easily the same height as him, and eight with the fighting ability of any hired muscle. I slipped clumsily through the shadows, gripping a hold of the wall to steady myself. I couldn't remember the last time I fired a gun. Holding it in my hand, it felt warmer than I remembered, though still cold against my burning and bloody hands. I just didn't want to be there. I wanted more than anything to run. It was my nature to stay in the shadows. But not with him staring down the barrel of the gun. My hands didn't shake. The shot still startled me. Nine crumpled to the ground, his fingers twitching and body spasming under the blood blossoming against his skin. Eight stepped back again, looking around him with the frightened eyes of someone who had simply had enough. He held up his hands, and then he ran. And still that man stood there. His eyes finding mine in the dim rays of sunlight filtering in streaks through the shattered ceiling. The sharpness softened, and the fight died, his body seizing with a sudden, terrible knowing. I had lost a lot of blood. And I fell to the floor.

written for @flashfictionfridayofficial

#flash fiction friday #my writing #prompt fill

[glacial-snowflakes]

Fairy lights // Bucky

A/N: I hope you enjoy!!

Pairing: Bucky x fem!reader

Word count: 1,24k

Summary: The past takes a toll on Bucky every night, but you find a solution to it.

WARNINGS: mentions of gun, murder, other that that - fluff (I know, how can these things go in pair? they can, believe me)

Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. It’s really motivating <3

"Bucky."

"Pull the trigger."

A harsh voice whispered to his ear. Just like a thrown ball, it bounced from wall to wall, filling all of the recesses of his mind. It was a disease that spread in a blink of an eye, eating alive every ounce of the good left inside of him.

"Look her in the eyes and do it."

Fighting with the strong urge to kill, Bucky hesitantly raised his eyes, too afraid of what he may see. When the worst nightmares came true, his heart dropped to his stomach, and the wave of despair soaked him to the skin. 

The moment he saw your body tied to the scratched kitchen chair, Barnes wanted to scream, but no sound left his open mouth. He tried to let go of the gun and rush you to help, but he couldn't. He stood still in the same place with his hand reaching out towards you, keeping his trembling finger on the trigger.

The only sounds that could be heard were his crazily pounding heart and frightening to-the-bone voice.

"Don't hesitate."

"Do it!"

"N-no." The word barely made it out, almost like it had to squeeze through Bucky's throat.

"What did you say?" The voice hissed, sending shivers down James's spine. This time nothing left his mouth. "That's what I thought. And now... Do it!" 

The click of switching off the safety filled the room. Barnes's grip tightened, almost like an invisible hand helped him with everything he persistently tried not to do. 

"Bucky." You spoke up. "Don't give up. I know you're in there." 

You could see the pain painted onto his face. Though it was your life on the line and you were helpless, you decided to try and help him with the battle, although the finale was pretty obvious.

"Y/N. I-I don't want to do this."

"The end is inevitable. It's time to say goodbye."

"Bucky, fight."

"I'm trying..."

"Tick-tock, it's death o'clock." 

"Y/N!" 

"It's okay... You tried..."

"Bye-bye, it's time to die."

"No! Please, no!"

"I love you, James Buchanan Barnes."

"Bang." The gun fired.

*

"No!"

Bucky's scream echoed through the room, so loud it could wake up every soul living on this level of the compound. He crawled from the bed. Lying down, he pressed his sweaty face to the cold wooden floor. Barnes breathed so loudly that he didn't hear the door opening.

"James?" You crossed the doorstep, gently placing your bare feet on the ground. "Nightmares again?" When you got nothing but silence in response, you added. "I understand."

It definitely broke your heart seeing him like this. Ever since moving in, bad dreams haunted him almost every night. Maybe that's why no one wanted to share a wall with him. No one except you. Daily wake-up calls in the middle of your sleep weren't such a big deal to you for two reasons; 1. You could go back to sleep quickly, and the most important, 2. You had a soft spot for him, which everyone knew of.

"Want me to stay?" You scooted closer to him, the floor's coldness attacking your naked legs. No answer. "Or should I go?" You asked another question while softly brushing his hair with your fingers. 

Actually, you never expected any response. It looked the same every time. You came to Bucky's room, sat next to him on the floor, played with his hair, and spoke to him, yet he didn't say anything. No sentence, not a single word, nothing. But you knew he listened to everything you said, and what's more important, he was thankful for you. In these moments, he was vulnerable and showing this side of him made him feel so ashamed. You, however, never judged him. Ever since he placed his foot in this compound, you treated him with the kindness and respect he deserved.

"Maybe you need something, hm? Hot chocolate, anything sweet? Maybe a plushie? I'm a grown man, Y/N. I don't sleep with plushies." You said, imitating Bucky's voice. A soft chuckle escaped his slightly parted lips. "Okay, okay, just asking. Oh, I know where Tony keeps his snacks hidden. Wanna grab something?" 

Your hand found a way from his hair to his exposed skin. Incredibly gentle brushes of fingers on the scar right above his metal arm made his breathing calm down. "Is it the darkness you hate so much?" You thought out loud. "If so... I have an idea."

Before Bucky could react in any way, you were gone. Curious about what you'd come up with, he managed to sit up. He didn't have to wait long. Minutes later, you were back, carrying a box full of... Fairy lights? 

"I know what you're thinking. I'm not a baby. I don't need lights on during the night." Bucky thought your imitation of him was on point. "I must say that's utter bullshit, sergeant Barnes. There's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm afraid of darkness, and these things saved my life. Besides, sweetie... Sorry to admit, but your room kinda sucks." You laughed. "And this dead plant over there? It's like a dagger in my heart. Seriously, in the morning we're going to the garden shop. Mission's not that important. And this poor little thing I am taking with me. Maybe I'll bring her back to life."

Bucky had nothing against your idea, so the next hour you two spent detangling fairy lights and figuring out how to hang them and make them look good. Not that he cared about aesthetics. On the other hand, you wanted to create a space that he'd feel safe in. After everything he went through, it was the least you could do. 

"I hope we didn't wake anyone up." You said, putting the nail to the circled spot on the wall. "Although I have a little tiny creature in my brain that would give anything to wake Tony." Your joke put a smile on Bucky's face. "Hammer." You reached out your hand, still focusing on the spot. And that was your mistake.

You could feel the wooden handle slipping out of your hand. "Y/N!" Bucky shouted. Before the tool fell on your foot, a green glow surrounded your hand, and the hammer flew back into your palm.

"I think that's the first actual thing you said this night. It's a nice thing it was my name." You winked at him. "Forgot about my powers?"

"That's one of the reasons I let you stay close to me... I know that in time of danger, you'd handle me." Bucky whispered, his eyes finding something interesting on the plain wall.

"Ah, yes. You'd hover over the ground, waving your legs on the sides. That'd be quite a view." You turned it into a joke. "You worry too much about it. I'm not a helpless little girl. And before you say you know that, that's not what I meant. You are no threat to me or to any of us. I wish you'd understand that..." A sigh escaped your mouth. You nailed the last wire up. "Anyway, we are officially done." You took a few steps back to look at the lightning masterpiece you two created.

"And I wish you'd understand that I love you." A thought ran through Bucky's mind while looking at the beautiful smile that was enough to brighten up the darkness in his life. However, he decided to keep that to himself for a little longer.

tag: @donaweasley @handmaiden-of-mischief @gaitwae @funsized-mimi @lucywrites02 @theaudacitytowrite I don't know if you like Bucky but I tag you anyway haha (expect for Dona, I know about your little crush)

#bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky ff #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky

[shiverstarx]

Tasty Treat…

This is a shout-out to @stuffems letting me use their characters (I’m using the happiness!Combat au!) Anyways Enjoy!

You were running as you heard alarms..a raid was starting but this raid would be more bloody that you could even imagine..You ran with the agents and grabbed the nearest gun.You found a gun by a fresh dead corpse with so many gunshots..That’s a bad sigh…but you took it anyway.As you were running an announcement came as you hear a grunt in fear telling you to run and hide…”𝐇𝐮𝐟𝐟* 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐧! 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞- 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠! 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆! 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐎𝐎-!! It turned to static…”who were these people”?…

Meanwhile as you and 3 other agents tried to hide and run out the base you hear bones snapping and organs squishing like something was eating…it was…It was a very tall and buff man holding a very sharp hook ripping the insides of an agent as he enjoyed the screams of the victims he ate….”𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐡! 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭.𝐛𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 .“ he chuckled as he threw the corpse at the wall… you were terrified as you saw what he has done same with his teammate Warhead aka Deimos..he loves to burn his victims to death and Ashes on his missions with him.”D-d-don’t make as sound- 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠! 𝐚 𝐠𝐮𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫... He heard and he was pissed…”𝐆𝐑𝐫𝐫𝐫..𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐡? He began to smell the agent sent to know were they are..

“o-ok guys hears the plan we all gang up and when he gets in we shoot him” you were unsure about the grunts idea but did it anyway. The killer heard a sound in the room and went for the kill “𝐡𝐞𝐡𝐞.. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭.“ “ok..aim..” the door opened…”FIRE-“ 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆!!! He used a giant gun to kill the agent..”oh god RUN!” We all began to run but many grunt we’re getting killed and torn apart…

You were scared out of your mind hearing all those screams of agony and gunshots. You surprisingly found a closet you hid as fast as you can and covered your mouth as you quivered in terror..This wasn’t over yet you heard stomping getting louder and louder…as you heard two giant peoples talking. “𝐜𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞“ “𝐬𝐡𝐡..𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐭“ War decided to run off to do more arson. As cinn broke open the door you made a little squeak in fear as you saw a giant man with sharp teeth holding a sharp hook covered in small splats of grunts blood.. he wasn’t shocked to see you nor surprised he made a grin as he puts his hook down and grabbed you with this index finger and his thumb under your waist. “P-please don’t kill me..” “𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐈 𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐚..𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭..“

He began to lick you on the cheek to taste you you tasted like lemon..”𝐦𝐦𝐦~ 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲..“ He opened his mouth and put you in his awaiting tongue as you tried to escape you were trapped by the roof of his mouth you kept trying to escape but it was too late..

*𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐏* Cinn swallowed you to his abyss.. “𝐔𝐫𝐫𝐩...𝐚𝐡𝐡𝐡~ 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐲𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭..𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐛𝐚𝐝“ you went in a large stomach and it was went and moist and lower growls can be heard to make it worse you saw your dead teammates being digested to nothing but sludge and blood..you began to cry as there was no escaping…just Cinnamon scented Darkness…

Cinn patted his stomach and went off with warhead Never to be seen in that base again….

Hope you like it! Credits to Cinn and warhead from @stuffems blog this took me a while but it was worth it :)

#s4nf0rd #d3imos #g/t #g/t vore #mawdness combat

[little-engineer-who-cant]

Jason confronts Bruce

Part 5 of Sirens Scream Names Forgotten by Tomorrow, Laid to Rest in Infinity

(also posted under cut)

“You cannot create a monster and then condemn it, hate its ugly features, its terrible gait. When I look into the mirror, I do not see myself but all of you who made me.”

- David Jones

(Shoot him.)

(That’s not the plan.)

(Fuck the plan. Shoot.)

(You’d have me waste all this?)

(It’s what you want, isn’t it? No one walks away.)

(Ideally, I will.)

(You’ve been dead for how long now? No one is walking away.)

(I-)

(It was never going to be you.)

He’s staring down the barrel of his own gun at the man who should have been his father when he finds the truth.

(You came back from the dead. You were never making it out alive.)

(No one walks away.)

No one walks away. He’s cheated death to ensure it. 

(Reaper made flesh.)

(Pull the trigger.)

So he does.

—

There are burns on his arms. The hair singed right off. He reeks of smoke and despair, cloaked in failure as he hunches over the metal railing. He aches of broken bones that are healing, of bruises on his ego, his body, his memories, his everything. But that’s nothing compared to the sting of failure. Of all the times to grab me, old man, it had to be now? At least if Bruce had let it all happen, Jason wouldn’t be alive to care about the aftermath. He’d be back in the ground-

(where you belong-)

-making nice with the worms and decay. 

But that’d be too easy. That’d be nice and neat, a pretty little bow on the tragedy of Jason Todd. Born to die, again and again, until he finally got it right.

(Maybe you’re still trying to be the perfect son.)

(I can’t be. I’m not Dick.)

(No. You’re not even Jason.)

It’s an old truth. That doesn’t make it sting any less. What’s really fucking with him, running in incessant circles in his already insane mind is the why. Why did Bruce grab him? It wasn’t like he was Bruce’s son anymore.

(When a man puts a dead thing in the ground, he expects it to stay there.)

But he’d clawed his way back out. And like every warning sign on the way up from Hades, he hadn’t come back right. Would Eurydice have been the same, if she ever broke the surface? He’d done that, come up from the water, reborn and remade. Jason Todd, Talia and Ra’s had christened him. A dead man. 

(You’re not making sense.)

(Isn’t that what you wanted?)

It’s easier not to think, to let his body turn and twist and ache in whatever direction it decides to take him. It’ll make sure he’s safe, that instinct is too ingrained to ever die. As long as his mind is blank, he’s not thinking about Bruce. 

The Pit stays quiet. No use trying to drive a man towards a cliff when he’s already leapt off the edge.

Jason has never fucking once wanted it to talk more than he does in that moment. Just for a reminder that he’s not alone.

—

Weakness, plain and simple. When he comes out of his haze, he’s staring at his worst weakness in the form of her bedroom through the window. Perched precariously on the concrete sill, he leans his forehead against the pane and watches his breath fog it up until he can’t see inside. Can’t see if she’s home or not. Can’t see if she’ll see him.

(Weak.)

But the voice is weak too. It can’t goad him over something he’s already accepted, something he already knows. She’s his pressure point, the chink in his armor and it’s all because she-

Click.

The window unlatches and he leans just far enough away that he won’t tumble when it opens to reveal her, the off-white hue of distant neon light catching in her dark hair like a halo of starlight.

“Hey,” she whispers, leaning her elbows on the still and looking up at him, seeing the dirt and blood, smelling the smoke and sulfur, hearing the sirens that herald emergency vehicles screaming towards that fire.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he mumbles, resting his head against the rough brick exterior, the edge of her window digging into the back of his mask. 

“Come’ere.” She holds out a hand.

“I shouldn’t be here.” It’s the one thing he knows for sure.

“I don’t care.” 

“They can find you.”

“Let them. I’ve faced worse.”

“You shouldn’t face what’s after me.”

“If it means keeping you, I’ll welcome them all with a smile.” Her stubborn expression hasn’t changed. Hasn’t even flickered. “I’ve lost a lot of people that I’ve loved. I’m not losing you too.”

“You’re insane.”

“Maybe. What a pair we make.” He takes her hand, she pulls him in the window and they press their foreheads together. Her fingers come up and gently, carefully, reverently undo the clasp on his mask, peeling away the vengeful Red Hood to show the exhausted man underneath. And he is exhausted. 

“I let him get away,” he confesses, like a bullet to the gut. “The Joker- I-” Her fingers rest over his lips, silencing him.

“It’ll take time, but he’ll get his due.”

“You say that like you know.” Her smile is full of teeth, knives gleaming in the dark as her blue eyes flash through with the soft pink of an unknown power that absolutely terrifies him. Carefully hidden away, only to be drawn out to hamstring someone without warning, to hobble, to cripple, to destroy.

“For you? I won’t give Fate a choice. And he’ll beg for one.” Was this how Paris felt when Troy burned for Helen? Like any price was worth paying to keep those eyes on him with all that promise, that devotion, that dedication to do anything. Her fingers stroke down his jaw and he follows those streaks of heat like he’ll die if they leave his skin. 

It’s an incredible dichotomy, the violence of her words mixed with the gentle affection in her touch and it’s more intoxicating than any drug he knows. 

“I don’t want you in danger,” he protests, but it’s weak in the face of a woman stubborn enough to defy gods.

“And I don’t want you to get hurt. But here we are.” But here we are. With him hurt and her in danger. “Come to bed, the world can wait.” There’s so much he doesn’t understand, so many questions he needs answered, but in this moment, he can’t ask. Can’t be reminded she belongs to other people too. He needs to pretend, just for one more night, that she’s no one’s but his.

—

It’s quiet and dark and he loves it here, curled around her in a cocoon they’ve made of blankets and their bodies. It’s quiet and dark and he cares more about that than the fact that he’s overheating under the blankets. If he got rid of things he loved for the sake of his own comfort, he’d be in a very different place in life. He’s got the quiet and the dark and her, he’ll endure any discomfort to keep them.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she asks, voice a bare breath that stirs the room and him towards a semblance of life. But he doesn’t have any right now, none that he can speak. None that she can hear and live to see another day. 

“I can’t say what I want to,” he admits in the silence of her room, breathing that truth into the back of her neck. 

“Hm?” her head twists, trying to look at him, but he digs his forehead into the nape of her neck to stop it. 

“I can’t say it,” he repeats, arms banding more tightly around her, clutching her like a child holds their most comforting toy. “Or you’ll get killed.”

“Jason, let me turn around.” He clings harder, petulant, pressing a kiss to her spine and tasting salt. “Jason.”

“Silena,” he growls, curling further, squishing her more firmly into the circle of his body while he tries to shut the world away. 

“Can I at least look at you?” He shakes his head. He likes it here, in the dark of her room, buried in the softness of her hair. Childish of him, absolutely, but right now he can’t face the thought of seeing her eyes pick him apart. “Fine, then…” she grumbles something under her breath in what sounds like Not-English but he’s not concentrating enough to tell exactly what dead language it is. “Give me.” She pries at one of his hands with that ever surprising strength of hers.

“Silena-”

“Please can I hold your hand at least?” That he can do. He can keep her like this with one arm, that’s not a problem. So he gives her a hand, letting her pull it up and towards her face, what is she-

She presses each one of his fingers to her mouth, kissing the calloused tips, her breath warm and grounding. The sensation hits him like a pile driver, tears welling in his eyes as he buries his head deeper. Maybe not seeing her was a mistake, maybe then he could have stopped her before- Her mouth presses delicately into his palm, a gentle and reassuring hum vibrating against his skin.

“I love you too,” she whispers into the hand that has taken hundreds of lives, destroyed thousands more, a hand that could so easily smother her with just a bit more pressure but she puts her life in it again and again- “I love you too.”

#jason todd #bruce wayne #the joker #silena beauregard #my writing #ao3 link #batman #percy jackson and the olympians

[ccghastly]

How Young!Arthur met Hosea and Dutch

(Eureka is his horse, to assuage any confusion)

By 1875 Arthur has been alone long enough to learn that the best way to steal from folk was to never let them see you, can't chase what you didn't see, can't beat the bones out of it either. Failing that, Eureka has always had ludicrous amounts of stamina, able to maintain a gallop longer than any other horse Arthur's ever encountered; they'd both gotten very good at running away.

Arthur is rifling through the camp of the two travelers that he'd scouted, feeling hassled by the noon sun's light. The men had come in from the west, pitched camp a long run from town, and proceeded to spend every daylight hour in said town.

An angered shout sets him off at a sprint. Wasting no time on looking around, he launches himself onto Eureka, she knows what him running at her in a panic means and tears away at top speed as soon as he has a hold on her neckrope.

Arthur wishes he could jump onto her while she was already moving, but unfortunately she remains a bit too tall for him. His partner in crime had however learned how to bow a foreleg to lower the stirrup, so he could swing on faster, and how to launch out of that crouch like a true trained athlete. Arthur and Eureka had learned the practicalities of a saddle while Maman Morgan was still alive to buy one, but remained bridleless. Eureka fidgeted and chewed and rubbed in every kind they'd tried, so they went without and weren't worse off for it. Much harder for any fella to try and control your horse with no reins to grab.

The shouting and pounding hooves of chasing horses eventually abated, but Arthur kept them running until they were well beyond the treeline, safely out of sight and range of any guns. Oddly, his pursuers hadn't shot at him during the chase, but he was taking no chances. He relaxed only once they'd made it back to their own campsite. He hopped off Eureka, dragging the saddle off her back, brushing her down and getting her settled for the night was rote and calming.

Arthur eventually settled before his low burning fire and pulled his haul from his pockets, counting the cash and trying to guess the going price of the valuables. It was a good haul and he cracked open a can of preserved strawberries as a reward. He picked them out with his fingers, every so often holding one out for Eureka to snaffle away.

It was Eurekas unhappy squeal that alerted him to their unexpected visitors, he jumped up and nearly fell back down with the wave of nausea that hit him when he clapped eyes on one of the men he'd just finished robbing.

"Quite the horse you have here" the dark haired man sounded almost complimentary, as he dodged out of the way of Eureka's ill intended hooves. It spurred a sudden twinge of guilt from his well ingrained manners and a confused automatic "Thank ya, sir"

A sharp prod to the back of his head was the response he received and he slowly turned to lock eyes with the barrel of a gun, wielded by the second man he'd robbed.

The men regrouped by his fire, the dark haired man pawing through Arthur's loot and directing more odd compliments his way "You know, it wasn't a bad scheme all considered. Might not have caught you at all if we hadn't needed to fetch something from camp."

Arthur would have felt more complimented had the lighter haired man not still been aiming at him. He did take some comfort from Eureka as she dropped her head over his shoulder to brood over him like a particularly menacing hen.

The talkative man had moved on and was now rummaging through Arthur's saddle bags "Looks like he might need the cash more than we do, Old Girl" there was a bit more rustling and a bit more glaring from Arthur and Eureka's corner, before both of the intruding men stilled.

There was a moment of silence that 'Old Girl', which was a ridiculous name in Arthur's opinion, broke "Dutch, No."

'Dutch', which was an equally ridiculous name, immediately started defending himself and 'Old Girl' turned away from Arthur to better convey his firm disagreement. Arthur eyed Eureka and had half a thought of leaving them to it, but considering 'Dutch' was still two wrists deep in some things he'd rather not lose, he was stuck.

Arthur's strawberries miraculously hadn't gotten tipped or trampled in the chaos, which was one bright spot in this rather shitty afternoon, and he was now slowly chewing his way through the can. Eureka had settled in behind him to more efficiently receive her cut of their sweet treat as they sat back and watched the men's argument derail.

'Dutch' was now loudly and staunchly proclaiming all men's rights to their natural freedom to find their life on the free plains of America, but 'Old Girl' remained firmly rooted in his stance of practicality and ease of life, battering ruthlessly against all harebrained ideas, 'Dutch' wavered, but recovered with the a returning argument of more hands and helping those that need help.

Arthur just wished that the hill they'd chosen to die on wasn't made of his stuff.

When the debate eventually wound down to a semi amiable end Arthur found himself kidnapped, or 'taken in' as Dutch put it.

From then on Arthur carried a satchel to hold his essentials and sentimentals.

Just in case.

(Part of a oneshot posted on ao3, there's a link to that pinned in my profile and here but changing platforms can be annoying so posting it here as well)

#ao3 #archive of our own #headcanon #rdr2 #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #rdr 2 #rdr2 headcanons #fanfic #fanfiction #hosea #hosea matthews #red dead redemption #read dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption two #rdr #ccghastly

[blue-flamed-phoenix]

Out of the woods - OUAT Peter Pan

Chapter 1 - Escape

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

"GET BACK HERE, YOU UNGRATEFUL BRATS!!!"

Run. That's all we could do, just run and keep running as our psychotic insufferable father chased us through the eery enchanted forest in the dead of night. We had nothing but the clothes on our backs. Well, that and our backpacks that were stuffed with the essentials from home. As we sprinted threw the forrest, the dry leaves crunching under our feet, we can hear in the distance our fathers panting and heavy footfalls. "Keep running! I think we can lose him if we keep going for another 3 or 4 miles!" Jack shouted to the rest of us. I did glance over at him or look back behind us, I just kept my eyes locked on the landscape in front of me afraid that if I turned around our father would be right behind me.

"Jack! That may be a bit of a problem!" My younger brother Liam shouted as I saw in my peripheral vision him pointing to something in front of us. I focused my sight on in front of us and caught a glimpse of what was to come in about a mile or 2. It was a cliff. None the less none of us broke away from our sprint towards the cliff in fear of our father gaining on us. We have to think of something and fast. As we make it closer and closer to the cliff I finally glance to Sage who ran beside me with little Bailey in her arms. Bailey is the littlest sister of us all since she's only 2 years old she will most likely never remember our mother or the psychotic monster who is currently chasing us. Hopefully she won't remember any of the events that ensued tonight or recent events from the days before.

~~~~~~~FLASHBACK - 2 weeks ago - FLASHBACK~~~~~~~

As me and my siblings arrived home from the markets that our mother forced me to go too, we could suddenly hear the sound of smashing coming from the house. Then I heard it, a cry of distress. Not just any cry, Bailey's cry. Immediately I dashed up the stairs of the front porch ignoring my siblings that yelled after me. As I ran into the house I looked to my left into the lounge room to see a devastating sight.

The lounge room was trashed with glass everywhere and picture frames or whatever else were on the ground in a huge mess. I turned into the lounge room as my sight locked onto Bailey who was in none other then the devil himself's arms. Rick. My father or well used to be father. Now he's nothing but a psychotic monster. Rick stood in front of the fire place with a crying, distressed Bailey in one of his arms while in his other he had Sky, My mother in his other arm. In his hand was a gun that he held to my mother's temple.  "Mother!" I yelled as I went to lunge for them, knowing that the couch was what separated us and was about the only thing keeping me and Rick apart at that moment. 

"Mary go back outside!" my Mother screamed as Rick threw Bailey to the ground hard and yanked my Mother's hair back before repositioning his hands. one hand held the gun to her temple while he put his arms across her collar bones to keep her in place. "So the little brat came home." Rick said as he looked at me. "Leave her alone!" I screamed as both fear and a new found anger coursed threw my veins. "And what are you going to do, you're not a hero, you're just a weak, pathetic child." Rick said with a malicious smile on his face which was then accompanied with a vicious laugh. By this point I was shaking with anger and I even started growling. I clenched my jaw as I replied to him. "I can hold you off until help gets here." I said to which Rick chuckled. "I'd like to see you try." Rick teased as my mother tried to struggle out of his grip but again it was no use.

"Because as far as anyone else is concerned, you can't even shift yet. 2 years late, who knows maybe you aren't even a true werewolf, maybe your just a stupid half blood, not even a real fucking wolf." Rick sneered and I growled, my eyes glowing as a sort of warning. "Don't you dare insult my children!" My mother shouted as she then elongated her k9's, drew her head back and then brought her k9's down on my father's forearm. She bit into his arm with incredible force drawing blood that invokes a blood curdling scream came from my father.

By doing this Rick automatically let Sky go and in doing so my mother fell to the ground on her hands and knees. "You bitch!" He yelled as he then kicked my mother in the stomach harshly, flipping her onto her other side. She curled up into a fetal position and groaned as she gripped her stomach in pain. "Now, I should've done this along time ago." Rick said through gritted teeth as he raised the gun up to point at my forehead. Without a single fearful bone I looked at the gun that was aimed directly at me without even flinching. 

Because in the end, I was used to this. I was used to guns and violence. The sounds of gunshots and the blood curdling screaming and yells of those who were scared for their lives. "See you in hell, little brat!" Rick yelled and in a split second everything changed.

A gunshot echoed throughout the house and I stood frozen where I was, waiting for the bullet to hit me. But it never did, instead I heard a tumble, like something had fallen to the ground. As if everything suddenly went into slow motion, I turned my head slowly to look down, only to find my mother's body on the floor. What started out as a small dot of red soon seeped through her clothes and became a huge mess of crimson that started to pool around her abdomen. 

'He shot her, he actually shot her' those words echoed in my mind as I myself, fell to my knees next to my mother and grabbed her hand. I just held her hand in mine as I saw she was still conscious. As I saw this I dropped her hand and tried to apply pressure to her abdomen to hopefully stop the bleeding. Why wasn't she healing???? No, no it could be! A wolfsbane laced bullet. No!

As I continuously tried to stop the bleeding my mother began to speak. "It's ok Mary, it's ok." my mother said barely above a whisper. I shook my head profusely. "N-no, no it's not ok." I refused as I could barely keep myself together anymore. 

"Promise me you'll protect them? You'll look out for them?" my mother asked as she looked deep into my eyes. After I didn't respond and practically froze up she repeated herself again. "Promise me!" she yelled as she gripped my bicep and this time I nodded with sorrow. Then out of my peripheral vision I saw my father raise his gun again with gritted teeth, but before he could my mother intervened. She shot her hand out towards my father and suddenly a glow of light came out of her palm. This then sent my father flying into fireplace behind him and left him unconscious from the massive blow. Then out of nowhere she then held both my hands in hers as she chanted something. "What are you doing?" I asked as I saw her hands began to glow a bright white colour of light. This light traveled up her forearms and underneath her skin making veins and bones visible.

"Listen to me, Mary" My mother said. "Once every 500 years, a miracle occurs. One that only occurs amongst us werewolves. One that is said to close the divide between magic and werewolves." my mother started. "You know of the story of the grand alpha, correct?" My mother asked and I nodded. "well, Once every 500 years a new grand alpha is chosen amongst the many werewolf packs in the world to take the place of the old grand alpha." my mother continued 

"It is legend that the grand alpha not only held incredible strength and speed but also the power of pure light magic. Magic so pure that it could never be consumed my dark magic, ever. Any werewolf can be chosen to be the grand alpha as you know but there is a catch." My mother said as she started to seem out of breath and my heart beats only increased by this. "Yeah, I know. If one was destined to become the grand alpha then at 16 years old they would find there mate." I finished for her and she nodded. "Yes, but that's not all. when a new grand alpha finds their mate at 16 years old, they are then faced with a choice." my mother continued seemingly loosing her breath the more she talked.

"A choice that would be life changing." my mother said before coughing and struggling a little more to breath. "When the 25th grand alpha is chosen, it is said that the grand alpha's mate was a being of immense power, one that was filled with dark magic. The legend states that the alpha must either choose to fall into the abyss of dark magic or turn there mate into a werewolf whether it be against their will or not," my mother finished as she coughed violently.  

"Why are you telling me all this?" I asked as the glowing in my mother's hands stopped and some how transferred to me. "Because I believe either you or one of your siblings is the future grand alpha that we've all been waiting for." My mother said and my eyes widened. "Run Mary, take your siblings with you and run, run as fast as you can. Your father knows that one of you is destined to be the grand alpha. He wants to take the power all for himself. you must protect your siblings and follow the shadow." my mother said as I looked down for a moment not wanting to leave her but the I shot my head back up to look at her. 'Wait! did she say follow the shadow. Wait does she know about that shadow that had been visiting me for years now.' I thought as confusion set in on the features of my face and it seemed my mother understood too. 

"I've known since the first time the shadow visited you. He is aware of the dangers that surround you and your sibling." she said as I looked into her eyes in complete disbelief. "Now go, take what you need and leave. Hide and wait for the shadow to find you before your father does." She said as she then let go of my hands and pushed me away lightly. 

As I look at her a single tear falls down her face. "Go Mary. Go" She insisted as she pushed me away further. with a heavy head I nodded, swallowed thickly and stood up on weak knees. My breathing was shallow as I looked down at my mother who lay on the floor becoming weaker and weaker by the second then I heard a groan come from the fire place. I quickly ran over to where Bailey was, picked her up and immediately sprinted out of the house and too my other siblings. 

"We have to go! now!" I shouted as my siblings were outside with fearful looks as I quickly handed Bailey over to Sage. "Get the emergency supplies, we have to go now!" I said as I ran over to the shed down the side of the house my older brother Jack following after me and I yanked the door open. I grabbed two of the bags while my brother Jack grabbed the other two. "Where's mother?" Jack asked as we ran back to our siblings. I didn't answer his question and instead handed Sage one of the bags that I was carrying. "Mary! where's Mother?" Jack shouted and I stopped what I was doing and looked at him. 

"She's gone, our mother killed him, shot her because she tried to protect. We need to go before he gets out here to try and hurt us." I explained as I pointed to the truck that my mother owned. "We need to go!" I said as I ran towards the truck and opened the door for Sage to get in. she was not only carrying her backpack but also Bailey as well. Nonetheless she got into the truck and Liam followed right after her with a backpack in hand. I looked to where Jack was to see he stood frozen where we were before. 

"Jack come on! we have to go!" I shouted as I opened the drivers side door. The keys were tapped underneath the drivers seat where mum had placed them for emergencies. "Come back here you little assholes!" my father yelled as he stormed out of the house and down the front porch steps towards us. That seemed to shock Jack out of his little freeze up as he sprinted towards the truck. I got into the drivers seat and started the truck with the keys. Jack quickly got into the passenger seat meanwhile our father was going balistic outside the truck. I quickly stepped on the gas and we went zooming out our drive way and down the road. only then did I realise what I had just witnessed. Our father, he did it again. He turned us for his own selfish needs. I clenched my jaw at this, feeling so angry. First he did it to me and now he's done it to all of us.

~~~~~~~FLASHBACK - The End - FLASHBACK~~~~~~~

As we ran threw the forest, well that is until we reached the cliff. I looked below to see very sharp and pointy rocks with waves crashing into the every two seconds below the cliff. 'There's absolutely no way we can survive that jump.' I thought as I look to Jack our big brother for help. He seems to be out of ideas just like me as Liam starts to Panic. "He's coming! He's coming! What do we do!" Liam says his tone full of fear. We could all hear our father running threw the forest towards us angrily. "Shit, come on, where are you" I whispered as I looked up into the sky searching for the shadow. "come on, come on" I whispered as I searched and searched. 

Then I heard a voice. "Your hand. stick out the palm of your hand directly in front of you" I heard the voice say in a calm voice and so I did what it said. though it didn't seem that my siblings heard this voice but I did nonetheless. I reached my right hand out in front of me following the unknown voice's instructions. Then out of nowhere a ball of light shone through my palm and in front of us a portal opened up. My siblings seemed amazed at what was in front of us but that amazement was short lived as we all heard our father yelling for us, getting closer and closer. 

"Come on!" I yell as I jumped Without thinking twice into the portal, my siblings following right after me. As we went through the portal Sage and Liam were both screaming as we twisted and turned in all different directions before we were then spat out by the portal, landing on solid ground. As we all got through The portal, it immediately closed right behind us as we hit the solid ground with pain filled grunts. I was the first one to shoot up and observe our surroundings. "You ok?" Jack says sitting up. "Yeah" I answered back as I continued to look at our surroundings. What surprised me is how it's day time here but night time back where we were before. "Is everyone ok?" Jack asked as he looked to Sage and Liam. They both nodded simultaneously while Liam immediately started to look around more. "Shit where are we?" Liam asked standing up. "ok everyone stay calm." Jack says as he gets up. "I'm sure we can figure out where we are." Jack reasoned.

#peter pan ouat #ouat fanfiction #ouat peter pan #ouat #once upon a time #emma swan #henry mills #fanfiction #fanfic #ouatfanfic #wattpad