#please note that Tang is normal
Note
Hi! I saw your hanahaki flower event and got interested by it. I was wondering if you can do prompt #18 with azul and a gender neutral reader please?
azul ashengrotto x gn!reader
[tags] – fluff, slight angst, miscommunication
[wc} – 4,442
prompt 18: “Is this normal here?” “Only for the emotionally unavailable folk.” “Ah, so it is.”
note - ending is a bit weak cause it got a bit long. anyways i love my octomer still firmly believe azul deserves to get bitches and eat good food
a floral inconvenience
Lavender: while best known for its herbal properties, lavender can also symbolize devotion to a person. You should give lavender to a person you see as pure and virtuous.
You stared at the array of purple colored drinks, sweets, and other treats laid out on the table in front of you.
To your left, several plates of candied lavender, a slice of honey lavender cake, and a grape lavender sorbet begged for your attention. On your right, an iced lavender vanilla latte, lavender lemonade, and a lavender spritzer looked ideal to quench your thirst. In the middle, directly in front of you, was the latest dish you were asked to taste test.
A beautiful Swiss chard, candied beet and goat cheese salad tossed in a honey-lavender dressing made your mouth water as the Mostro Lounge manager himself sat at his desk, watching you on the two-seater couch.
“Well? Go on. I made them all myself.” Azul gestured to the salad with a smug smirk, clearly pleased at your excitement. “Time is of the essence, the spring menu is due to release next week.”
“Oh! Yeah, right.”
You picked up a fork and pierced a beet and chard, generously covered in the dressing and goat cheese. Bringing the food up to your mouth, Azul raised his brows tentatively, watching as you opened wide, and just before you took a bite—
“Are you sure Jade didn’t put anything in this—”
“I promise, I made this all myself.”
“Okay.” You opened your mouth and raised your fork again…before bringing it down again.
“You sure—”
“Positive! Just. Eat. It.” Azul sighed exasperatedly. “I beg—and I don’t beg.”
“Okay! Okay, okay, okay.” You giggled, finally taking a bite of the salad.
A burst of sweet, woodsy and fresh flavor covered your tongue. Pleasant, succulent, and slightly sticky, you hummed in delight at the taste of the salad and dressing. You smiled at Azul, who rested his chin on his clasped hands. You couldn’t see his mouth from behind his hands, but you think he was smiling back at you.
“Azul! This tastes wonderful! Even better than the candies and tarts, oh my gosh!” You gushed as you took another bite of the salad, oblivious to the soft, periwinkle blush on the octomer’s cheeks.
“Try it with the lemonade, it pairs well.”
Nodding your head, you reached over to take a sip of the drink, a sprig of lavender embellishing the top. Humming again from the pleasant tang of the lemon and sweetness of the flower, you beamed at Azul.
“You’re so right! And with all the lavender as garnishes, it’s definitely screaming springtime!”
Whipping out your phone, you started to text, talking as you did. “It’s definitely gonna be a hit on Magicam, I bet I can get Cater to come and—”
“No! Uh,” Azul raised his voice, startling you, before clearing his throat and continuing, “you need to try the rest first!”
“Oh, for sure, but Cater can probably give you free advertising or something—”
In a small panic, seeing the chattery ginger’s profile and your thumb hovering over the DM button, Azul quickly rushed to you. He reached over to swipe the phone out of your hands while simultaneously shoving a spoonful of the grape lavender sorbet.
“Nonsense! I can handle my own advertising!” Azul chuckled nervously, “Now tell me, how does that one taste? Refreshing, yes?”
You choked on cold sweetness, a brief knock at the door drawing both of your attention as the door opened before you could respond.
Jade entered the Azul’s office, pausing at the scene before him. Azul hovering, practically on top, of you with a silver spoon shoved into your mouth. Jade blinked once before giving you both a small smile, tilting his head.
“I apologize, I didn’t mean to intrude on such a scene, I’ll come back later—”
“Don’t imply anything, Jade!” Azul briskly added some distance between you two, smoothing his ruffled suit.
You on the other hand, spoon now hanging freely from your mouth, gave Jade a wave and gave him a muffled, “Hi Jade, the sorbets good.”
Jade chuckled, covering his mouth with his hand.
“Is it? How wonderful, Azul’s been working particularly hard to make sure everything was to your liking—”
Azul cleared his throat, giving Jade a less than amused glare.
“What is it, Jade?” He sighed, adjusting his glasses. “You know I was to not be interrupted for the next hour.”
Jade bowed his head, still smiling as he apologized.
“Pardon my interruption, but it has actually been an hour and a half, and your next appointment is here.”
“What?” Azul looked at the wall clock with a confused expression, groaning as he saw the minute mark was indeed showing it was half past 3.
“Let my appointment know that I will be with them shortly, my dear?” Azul gave you an apologetic smile, bringing out a handkerchief from his vest and offering it to you.
“Here, I’m sorry to cut our time so abruptly. You still owe me your commentary on the free dishes, so make sure to leave your Saturday afternoon open.”
Rolling your eyes, you wiped your lips as you snarkily replied, “I owe you? Didn’t you ask me for my input on the dishes?”
“The free dishes, yes. Does 5 pm sound good?”
You hummed in affirmation, handing back the lilac fabric which Azul accepted. A sound of surprise left you as Azul dabbed the corner of your mouth, where a bit of the sorbet still remained.
The octomer wasn’t known for casual touches, rather he seemed adverse to them. It surprised you how easily those brush of hands and bodies leaning closer to each other came despite this. You suppose it just came naturally after months of study ‘dates’, shared lounge shifts, and late night talks.
Avoiding eye contact, Azul tenderly grabbed your hand and placed the handkerchief back in your hand. His hands clasped around your own, making your fingers grasp the fabric before pushing it to your chest.
“Keep it for now, it’s dirty anyways.” Azul muttered, snatching his hands back as if you’d burned him. “You can return it cleaned this weekend.”
Nodding your head, you chose to ignore the sudden shift in mood, though it hurt your chest. Instead, you gave Azul a warm smile as he turned his back to you as he cleaned.
“Mkay…I’ll see you later, Azul. Byeee~” You wagged your fingers to the still turned Azul, though you could see the tips of his ears turn light purple. Your eyes stayed on his form until Jade closed the door, in which you followed the teal-haired man out of the VIP halls to the rest of the lounge.
Following Jade through the corridors, you mused out loud, “I wonder if he knows…”
“Knows what, Prefect?”
You jumped slightly, startled as you remembered that you weren’t alone.’
“Fuck! I forgot you were here, you’re so quiet Jade, what the hell?”
Jade chuckled, looking down at you as he slowed his pace to walk side by side. “I apologize, but I was simply asking for clarification, who knows what?”
It took you a moment to process that you’d been speaking out loud, exclaiming, “Oh! Sorry I was just wondering if Azul knew that lavender’s my favorite flower. Yaknow, cause of all the lavender flavored stuff…”
You shrugged, aware of the mischievous glimmer in the golden eye studying your form.
“Probably not though, it’s a popular spring flavor. Not gonna complain about a coincidence though!”
Jade hummed, “Yes, a very pleasant coincidence.”
The rest of the walk was pleasant and relatively quiet as you filled the silence by humming a tune Azul had taught you for musicology. You arrived shortly to the lounge, waving at Floyd through the kitchen door window. Floyd waved enthusiastically back, ladle in hand.
Before you could walk off to the exit, Jade grabbed your shoulder, leaning down to ask, “Prefect, would you like to meet me in the library? My shift will end soon, and I’ll be studying for a botany exam. I’d enjoy the company.”
You shrugged and nodded. “Sure, Cater’s gonna meet me and drop off Grim there in a bit anyways.”
“Wonderful, I’ll see you shortly!” Jade waved you off, turning back to the host stand as you left the lounge to the Octavinelle entrance.
A pass through the mirror and a short walk, you soon found yourself at the entrance to the library. There you saw the familiar head of ginger cradling a sleeping Grim in his arms!
“Cater!” you whisper shouted, grinning and waving your hand excitedly.
“Hey babes!” Cater greeted you, giving you a soft smile and wink. “How’d the date go? Gimme all the deets!”
You scoffed, scratching between Grim’s ears as the little familiar sleepily mumbled, “Wasn’t a date, I was taste testing for Azul.”
“Uh-huh, just a private taste-testing between you and the Octavinelle housewarden?” Cater cooed, handing you Grim. “Then why’d you have me take Grimmy and get him all stuffed and tuckered out at the unbirthday party, hmm?”
“He said he made it specifically for me to taste! Grim would’ve eaten it all otherwise…” you pouted, squinting at Cater as he shrugged and gave you a cheeky grin.
“Whatever you say babe, but like, Azul is super infamously known to never give out gifts without expecting something in return.”
“He is getting something!” You huffed as the two of you entered into the library, following your upperclassman as he plucked books for your alchemy class and he for potion making.
“He’s getting my valuable input before announcing his spring menu!”
Cater gave you another wink before drawling, “Sureeeee, whatevs you say babe! Just don't be surprised by the wedding bells in the near future, I better be the man of honor!”
You two bickered for a bit longer, you more so than Cater, who was content teasing you. Once you both had grabbed the materials needed for class, you searched for a table to get settled before Grim eventually woke back up and begged to get dinner.
A familiar shade of teal caught your eye as you remembered Jade’s invitation to study.
“Ah! I forgot I was gonna meet Jade and study with him!” You waved at Cater, who followed suite, walking over to the eelmer. “Text me later, I’ll try and see if I can’t convince Azul to let you get exclusive pics of the spring menu!”
“Kayyyy, I’m sure you’ll convince your little boyfriend easily enough with a few smooches.” Adding insult to injury, Cater blew you a kiss. “Just pucker them up and boys will melt like putty, trust me I know!”
Rolling your eyes, you ignored your friend’s giggles in favor of greeting Jade with a quiet hello.
“Hey Jade, how’s the studying going?”
Yellow and olive eyes met your own as Jade smiled back, nodding his head politely. “Well. I finished my own work a while ago, so I’ve been browsing some journals on magical flora and diseases.”
Jade gestured to the array of books on the table. Sure enough, the books were labeled as magical pharmaceuticals and botany. You settled Grim on one of the spare chairs and placed your own books on a spare spot on the table. As Jade read a page on the medical benefits of a tentacle looking mushroom, you peered curiously at the other books.
You read the page of one of the books Jade had out, labeled ‘hanahaki’.
“What’s this?”
“Hmm? Oh.” Jade gave you a soft smile, though his eyes glimmered with mischief.
“That. I was simply researching it as a favor for a friend.”
“A favor? From you? Riiight.”
Jade pouted, giving you a sad look. “Why do you doubt my kind-hearted nature?” He continued giving you faux sniffles and wiping the corner of his eyes. When you first started hanging around him and his brother, it took you a while to figure out that Jade liked to tease your soft-hearted nature. He said it was to toughen you up for life in the cold, merciless waters under the sea that you’d eventually call home.
Whatever that means.
“Am I not allowed to simply do something out of the kindness of my heart?”
You stuck your tongue out before replying, “Are you doing this out of the ‘kindness’ of your heart, or cause you want something out of it?”
“Hmm, both?”
Jade winked as you stifled a giggle.
“Sure, both are good…who’s it for anyways?”
Jade held a finger up to his mouth. A secret that he was not privy to share. Despite you leaning in with an expectant look, Jade remained silent, giving you a closed eye smile. Shrugging you looked at the page the book was open to.
“Flower sickness?”
“Yes, a gift from the Flower Bride, it causes the afflicted’s romantic feelings to physically manifest into their beloved’s favorite flora. Typically through flu-like symptoms.”
You winced as you reached up to rub your throat. “Like, coughing up roses? Sounds like a pain.”
“It can be, most find it inconvenient, as it tends to trouble those that repress their feelings. Especially those that would rather deny or remain oblivious to them.”
“Is it normal here?”
Jade pursed his lips, looking as if he was in deep thought before responding, “Only for the emotionally unavailable sort.”
Snapping a finger at him you cheekily replied, “So it is then?”
The two of you shared a laugh before resuming your browsing, Jade now leaning over to read the article with you, thumbing the pages as you read out loud.
“Most recognized symptoms include coughing petals, flowers, and even bouquets in the occurrence of strong feelings. However, sneezing the previously mentioned symptoms is also common.”
“Ah, here.” Jade slid his finger along the paragraph below. “More severe cases can include the patient sprouting flora from their pores, ears, and hair follicles. How interesting.”
You clicked your tongue. “Sounds annoying, ooh wait! ‘Common Flora’!”
Listing off the flowers from the second page, you were blissfully unaware of the entertained expression on the twin’s face.
“Let’s see, roses, makes sense. Orchids, gardenias, oh! Even lavenderrrrrrr…“
I was just wondering if Azul knew that lavender’s my favorite flower.
Azul is super infamously known to never give out gifts without expecting something in return.
I made them all myself.
You drew out the last syllable, eyes hyper focused on the word printed before you as you processed your thoughts like a factory conveyor belt. Slowly turning your head to stare at the teal-haired man next to you, Jade simply kept his small, polite smile as he stared right back.
“...Jade?” You tilted your head.
“Prefect?” Jade did the same.
“Where’s Azul been getting all the lavender?”
“Oh, well,” Jade paused, sifting through the book in favor of letting you stew in suspense. “A few weeks ago he started keeping large bouquets of them all over his room and office, though the latter were used for the dishes he made you.”
“You mean the ones for the new menu?” Maybe you were misinterpreting the whole thing. Yeah, no Azul wouldn’t waste a bunch of lounge supplies on you. Lavender is a popular spring flavor, and your a good friend that’s willing to give him the time of day to test his dishes out. Of course, you’re just being silly—
“New menu? You must be mistaken, we aren’t releasing a new menu anytime soon.” Jade rested his head on his palm, now giving you a rare grin.
“He was quite stressed making the dishes to your liking, seeing as it’s quite a common octomer courting tact—oh!”
Jade covered his mouth in shock, feigning embarrassment as he continued, “I’m afraid I’ve said too much, you’ll keep that last bit between us, won’t you?”
“…You’re an ass, you know that?”
“I’m aware, what are you going to do about it? I just ask that you’re gentle with me.”
Everyone within a 1-mile radius could hear your exhausted sigh of annoyance.
The soft glow of the aquarium walls under the bookshelves brought about an ethereal glow to the VIP Room. A soft, soothing blue glow that did very little to actually sooth your nerves. It paired well with the lavender colored walls.
Speaking of lavender, a warm teapot of lavender Earl Grey was settled on the coffee table, along with containers of sugar and milk. To the right was a plate of iced lavender cookies, small purple buds garnishing the tops of the cookies.
“Cookies, huh? I thought you were more of a cooker than baker, Azul?”
Azul, who was writing down your feedback from the baked brie with lavender honey that you’d just had, hummed in response.
“Yes my dear, I had Trey working for me after the last Camp Vargas, though he was kind enough to leave me a few handwritten recipes in exchange for ending his week-long employment with me early.” Azul explained, looking rather satisfied with himself.
“I experimented with one of the recipes and was able to come up with the cookies before you.” His eyes met yours as he smirked and smugly asked, “They’re to your liking, yes? I made them with your sweet tooth in mind.”
There it was, Azul made these for you. Azul Ashengrotto, who didn’t give so easily without a cost, made them specifically for you in mind, though it seemed that that same train of thought didn’t process in his head. Based on his self-satisfied smirk, and the notes he was taking, Azul was happy that the apparent courting ritual was going well.
“Yeah! I like them a lot, they go well with the tea. Um—” You paused, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before continuing with the plan you and Cater came up.
“Did you make the tea blend for me too? It tastes wonderful, I’d expect nothing less!”
Azul brightened, delighted at your attention and praise, and began to “subtly” brag, “Yes! Normally Jade makes the tea blends for the Lounge, but I personally selected this specific variety to pair well with the lavender.”
A fondness grew in your heart as you listened, not really processing though, to Azul describe the subtle differences between his tea blend and traditional ones.
“This specific blend would be most reminiscent of Early Grey Crème, which isn’t as widely known, but I thought would be better for you as it’s smoother.”
“Really?” You gasped, feigning innocence as you asked, “And you made it all yourself? You’re amazing, Azul!”
With a closed-eye smirk, Azul adjusted his glasses and nodded. “Yes, well with all my family’s experience in the food industry, it’s to be expected. But do continue to sing praises my dear, it’s much appreciated.”
You giggled, tilting your head as Azul resumed his note taking, it was no doubt he was recording your reactions and storing them for future use. The real question was whether to figure out the best way to bribe you with the promise of your favorite foods, or to ensure that his future beloved would have their own beloved treats when with him.
“It’s appreciate that you made this all for me in mind…which makes me think…Azul?”
“Yes?’
Azul was now focused on writing rather than on you. Taking another deep breath, you continued.
“Your cooking for me reminds me of a common saying back home…that a way to one’s heart is through their stomach.”
Azul froze, the soft scratching of his fishbone pen suddenly silenced, from the corner of your eye, you could see Azul’s eyes widen and face go blank.
“Is that something said here too?”
“It’s not a completely foreign phrase to me, so I’d say so.”
You hummed, plucking one of the iced cookies from the tray, sauntering over to the silver-haired man. Azul looked up at you, leaned back into his plush chair, lacing his fingers together as he waited for you to continue.
“I bet, with your mother owning a restaurant and everything…though it has me thinking…”
Azul raised a brow as you nibbled on the cookie, while you allowed him to stew in suspense for a few seconds.
“You’ve never actually cooked at the lounge, have you? Sure you’ve tested out some recipes, making sure they come out to your satisfaction…but it’s always someone else doing the cooking for the customers.”
Taking a seat on the edge of the desk, glowing baby blue eyes met your own, making you wonder if his name was a deliberate choice or a coincidence.
“Yes…” Azul answered slowly, hesitantly really, as he tried to figure out your angle. “I’m a very busy person, and I haven’t got all day-”
“And yet, you cooked for me.”
Azul shut his mouth at that, normally plush lips thinning as his fair cheeks softly turned periwinkle.
“Not only that, but you cooked for me using my favorite flower…tell me, my dear,” He audibly choked at the nickname, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists. “Just how did you know I love lavender?”
You leaned down, Azul’s eyes widening as the distance between you two becoming smaller. Sudden close contact grew a burning embarrassment in Azul, who leaned further into his chair until he no longer could. There was a visible panic in his eyes, which made you feel a bit bad for putting him in such a situation.
Azul cleared his throat, composing himself and saving face as he looked at you with a stony expression. “I…have my sources.”
That wasn’t good, you didn’t need the octomer shutting you out to avoid even the slightest humiliation at the hands of a crush.
“Sources? Like what? Sam? The botanical gardens?” You looked off to the side, noticing a vase with a few stems of lavender. “Like hanahaki?”
A screech accompanied Azul as he abruptly stood, pushing back the chair and stared at you with a frigid glare, lips thin and soft eyes now hardened.
“I don’t appreciate this joke of yours. If you want to our time together making fun of me, I suggest we end it here.”
Panic turned your blood ice cold as you tripped over your feet, now chasing Azul as he went for the door.
“W-what? No, that’s not what—”
“I think it’s best you leave now,” Azul dodged your attempts to grab him, refusing to make eye contact. “I’ll show you out.”
“Please, Azul, I wasn’t making fun!” A ball was forming in your throat, making your voice tremble and breath stutter.
As he turned the doorknob, door just cracking open, Azul turned to look at you only to falter as his face fell at the sight of the tears falling from your face.
“A-are you crying?!” He shut the door close as he rushed over, hovering his hands over your frame. “Why are you crying—”
“Cause I thought you liked me! Jade said—well he didn’t actually say, he heavily implied—that you had hanahakiiii…” You drawled out the last bit of your sentence as Azul’s face turned purple, looking horrified as you finished your sentence.
Azul stuttered out, “H-he implied w-what!? Damn that eel—ACK!” before heaving and gasping for breath. As he suddenly collapsed on his knees, you following suit in worry, Azul began making a choking sound.
Though you couldn’t see his face, you could see the clumps of wet buds fall out of his mouth, covered in inky spit, eventually an entire bunch of lavender heaving out of him as well.
“Auughhh…that—” Azul coughed again, looking up at you with a combination of ink and spit dripping from his mouth. “—was unbecoming of me, I’m sorry…wasn’t supposed to go like this.”
Reaching for your pocket, you took Azul’s handkerchief and gently grabbed his chin to look at you. Azul visibly relaxed as your wiped the mess from his lips, fingers moving to comb through his hair. Sighing as he slowly looped an arm around your waist, Azul ,.....
“I should’ve made Jade sign another NDA when I saw him snooping through my bedroom, should’ve known.”
You let out a breathless chuckle, leaning into his grasp. “Yeah, probably. If it helps I shouldn’t have listened to Cater’s dating advice.”
“You what?!” Azul exclaimed, looking at you dubiously, “You asked Cater for advice?”
“He seemed like he knew what he was talking about!” You defended yourself, pouting. “He noticed that you were cooking for me, when you never do for anyone else.”
He sighed, rolling his head back to look up at the ceiling instead of your face.
“As you said—which I’m assuming was one of the things Jade told you—preparing and providing food to our mates is a courting ritual for Cecaelians. I follow the same routine as my mother: create and test recipes, then pass along the instructions to my subordinates and ensure it’s top quality.”
Azul continued, holding your hand as he stood, guiding you up with him. “We octofolk were shunned out of merfolk society for a longtime, even with the legends of the Sea Witch’s benevolence.”
Reaching for one of the cookies still on the table, Azul brought it up to your mouth, tapping it to your lips.
“It shows that no matter our status, we can provide for the one we’ve devoted ourselves to.”
Bringing a thumb to your mouth, Azul softly pulled your lips apart to feed you. A fond, but embarrassed warmth flushed over you, a matching red blush on your cheeks to Azul’s periwinkle one.
“That’s…sweet.” You smiled, taking the cookie from Azul’s hand, much to his surprise. “And really corny, especially for you.”
Azul clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes as you took a bite of the cookie.
“I’m attempting to be genuine, and you’re calling me corny? How insulting!” Azul huffed, though he gave you a faint smile. “I hope you’re going to apologize.”
“Aww, poor Azul. Of course I can give you an apology, if you’ll accept it.”
He gave you a raised brow, confused but still smiling. “Of course, why wouldn’t I—”
A yelp escaped Azul’s lips as you pressed your own lips against his, smiling as you did. Azul sighed into your mouth, tasting the lavender and vanilla on your tongue while you smiled against his lips. His hands cradled your own, keeping you in place as Azul returned the affection with chaste kisses pressed all over your face, neck, and hands
“Wait—ah! Hehe~” You laughed as Azul’s kisses tickled you, weakly pushing him away as he moved to kiss the tops of your hands. “That tickles, stop!”
“Heh, come on now my dear.” Azul cooed, pulling you back in to wrap an arm around your waist, grabbing the cookie from your hands to feed it to you, which you accepted.
“Let me keep all your affection to me, and mine to you. I am quite a greedy lover, you know?”
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#twst azul x reader#azul ashengrotto#twst azul#a floral inconvenience#abyssthing198
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Unravel
König x 'Maus' F!Reader
(Read here on Ao3)
(Part 10 of 'Little Mouse')
Word Count: 4.2k
Rating: Mature
Tags: Enemies to lovers, Slow burn, Dark König, Hints of yandere König, Price Whump, Injury mention, Kidnapping, Capture, Angst, Violence, Torture, Slow-burn, Cliffhanger, König POV
Warnings: Torture, Graphic depictions of violence, References to Rape/Non-Con, please read at your own discretion
A/N: Please heed chapter warnings and note rating has changed
There's a steady drip of water inside the basement that grates at the back of König's senses, leaking from an overhead pipe and pooling in an oily puddle just past the toes of his boots. Fluorescent colors reflect off the surface, a viscous abstract of color that shimmers with every new drop. It's the kind of detail his mind would normally fixate upon, thoughts elsewhere and needing something to anchor to as the tides of his own emotions swirl uncertainty inside him. Roiling, churning, stretching and yawning wide inside the confines of his mind, seeking more space inside him than he can provide.
König comes down here into these rooms often to do just that, a secret hiding spot away from his team where he can exist in peace, calm the tumult of his mind in the dank, dark silence. Here he’s usually alone, has space to let the shadows of his doubts fester inside him, allow himself to pace the space endlessly in search of answers he cannot summon. König knows the dips and grooves of the uneven concrete floor like the back of his scarred hands, and can navigate the room blind if he needed to. It's quiet here, still, a desolate sanctuary in which to indulge the refuge of his psyche.
Now, the room fills with the iron tang of blood, grunts and creaks of a metal chair as the man in front of him receives another brutal blow across his jaw, spits blood onto the worn floor where it pools viscid and red.
Price.
The captain's arms are wrenched behind him at a jarring angle, fastened up to his elbows so he can't even have the mercy of trying to bend them to lessen the strain on his shoulders. Red drips from a contusion hidden somewhere under his hairline, his nose leaking- evident of it being broken by brute force. One eye is deeply purple, swollen, clotted with blood from a cut above his brow. He's lost his hat somewhere between Serbia and the satellite base, and no doubt some mercenary somewhere has kicked it uselessly into the dirt, forgotten.
Both Price's feet are cuffed to the iron folding chair under him, the legs wobbling precariously with each punch that rains down on him. Each blow is met with a mild grunt, a barely audible noise that attests to the captain's endurance, his refusal to break. There’s no voice in him, a refusal to bare even his pain to his enemy, an injured predator that snarls and retreats into its red, seeping wounds. Yet there's a pale pallor to his face that's evident of days of no food and little water, stuck here in this deep, dark basement, at KorTac's mercy.
At O'Conor's mercy.
THWACK-!
Price's head snaps to the side, opposite of where it had been knocked only a moment ago, and the force of it is enough to give even König whiplash from where he stands, arms crossed, leaning on the wall and observing the scene with a lidded, heavy stare. The shadows of the room, drawn by one single, flickering bulb above their captive, slant across the towering soldier's body, glinting off his bracers, the darks of his eyes.
Price's shoulders rise as he inhales, and König can hear the sound of something wet, grinding in the captain's chest before he hacks and spits another mouthful of blood at O'Conor's feet.
KorTac's commander laughs.
"Atta' boy, John." Declan huffs, shoulders rising with a barely restrained fury König has become fascinated by. There's an energy that coils in the commander's muscles, hidden under his gear, that reeks of an age-old wound, one that's long since festered and soured in his veins. It’s the thing that captures König as opposed to the man at O’Conor’s mercy, the Austrian’s eyes enraptured by the strange, vicious tale that seems to lie just under his commander’s flesh. He thinks for a moment that if he slices the skin, peels back the layers that the truth of it will come oozing free, dark as tar and dripping over his fingers.
Declan reaches forward and grabs Price by his hair, and Price snarls at the contact. There's a brief moment where König thinks the captain might twist and bite at his former comrade, seize skin between his teeth until he can't be sure where Declan's blood starts and his ends. The thought spikes a familiar interest in him, the low, simmering obsession with the color red, the purr of König's veins thrumming with energy at the violence that comes with war.
Yet Price doesn't rise to Declan's jab. It's remarkable. He's been silent this entire time, barely speaking for days unless asked about something of bare necessity. No doubt the man has conducted enough interrogations during his time in the military to know the exact strategy to keep his captors frustrated but invested, keen on keeping him alive if only for the promise of answers.
What answers Declan seeks, however, remain unclear.
The commander has taken his time to brutalize the captain, knocking him bloody unless Price can barely keep his eyes open. It's nothing short of a miracle the man hasn't passed out from a concussion yet with the punches Declan rains down on him. König thinks that the captain may be staying conscious through sheer willpower alone, and the thought is enough to summon a strange, reverential murmur of respect towards his enemy. Yet while O'Conor had offered only jibes and taunts, he hadn't begun to dissect Price in the way König imagined he intended to.
Truth be told, König is getting bored.
He attends these sessions not to witness Price's suffering, but because it's Horangi's words that needle in the back of his mind, itching at him and leaving him searching for something more.
"You haven't thought about it? That she and O'Conor seem to know more than the rest of us?"
"There's something here we don't know about."
It shouldn't bother him, but it does. Leaves something uncomfortable pricking under his skin. Like poison, the treacherous and horrid doubt of his comrades slithers through his veins. Horangi’s voice seems to float unsummoned in his ears, echoing a ruinous prophecy König can’t seem to ignore. The answers he seeks seem to slip through his fingers like smoke, the scent of blood and charcoal burning through his nose.
Why was O'Conor so obsessed with the 141? What agenda motivated this drive to hunt, to kill? Why was he so intent on capturing Price alive- only to use him as the outlet for a frustration König couldn't understand?
"I think he's had enough, Sir." He offers to the commander idly, watching as Price slumps forward in his chair. The sight pulls something inside him, something sour and uncomfortable, suddenly reminded of the face he saw striving to rescue the captain even as you were hauled away into the night by your comrade. Even now König can hear the scream of pure panic, of fear at losing your captain, petrified and utterly frantic. Your voice overrides everything else for a brief moment, ringing shrilly and leaving a shuddering tinnitus in his ears.
König grimaces under the mask, trying to ignore the phantom ache in his chest.
Idly, he wonders if you'll forgive him for this.
He hasn't lifted a finger to Price, hasn't once stepped forward to strike him as O'Conor has. Yet neither has he aided the man, stepped up to his commander and intervened. To do so would raise a suspicion he cannot afford, not with Roze whispering nefariously in Declan's ear, murmuring about König's persistent distractions, his fascination with the enemy's sniper. With you.
It's too risky now to expose himself like this. Not when the job pays well and he has no way to return to the Austrian armed forces with the trail of destruction he has left behind there. Here is the only place he can exist, can feed the yawning hunger of destruction within him- the slice of flesh and the crunch of bones the only remedy for a need for carnage he struggles to feed. König is resigned to the fact he was fated to be a weapon of war, that there is no gentle epilogue for him.
Besides, he's coming to realize O'Conor wouldn't let him leave even if he ever wanted to chase a destiny unfit for a monster such as him.
"Sir." König says again as Declan seizes Price by his collar, drags him an inch off the floor, only to drop him back down again. The chair valiantly holds despite the sudden weight, but wobbles precariously for a moment before Price goes still once more, head dropping forward and lolling. He doesn't move, but König can tell from the rise and fall of his shoulder the man is still conscious.
O'Conor sighs, smears his bloody hands on his pants before turning. He doesn't look at König, doesn't even seem to notice he's there. His shoulders are coiled tight, eyes sharp, looking for all the world like a wolf poised to pounce, a deadly and inescapable predator. Again, the remnants of an age-old anger seem to simmer just below the surface, a wound that has refused to heal, has deepened and rotted, festered until it has rewritten the man himself.
The commander drags a chair from the corner of the room, the metal scraping sinister against the concrete floor as he brings it to face before Price. He settles backwards in it, heaves a sigh as his arms prop against the back of the seat, regarding his captive.
"Well John." O'Conor speaks after the heavy, oppressive silence that follows. "I suppose we should talk about the elephant in the room then."
König narrows his stare at the commander, tilting his head and regarding the Irishman. There's a tone of familiarity to his words he doesn't fully understand, a thread that needs to be pulled to reveal the red dyed sinew of it.
If Price hears O'Conor, he gives no indication. He remains still, silent, offers no response except the steady rise of his shoulders and his shuddering exhales that shake free of his injured chest.
Declan gives the man a moment before he speaks again.
"You were there, weren't you John?" He asks, quieter now, harder. His voice a low, ominous warning. "In Mozambique, when we were sent into the viper's nest. You were on the other team."
That seems to do something to Price, because the captain's lips tighten into a thin, bloody line, as if he's convincing himself to not speak.
"We were sent to infiltrate the compound of a terrorist leader. Capture him alive at all costs. Two teams. Two helis. Isn't that right, captain?"
It's subtle, but König sees it, the way Price's shoulders just barely deflate, the smallest indication of the words O'Conor speaks are true. König is fascinated by it, finds his eyes tracing a rivulet of scarlet that drips down onto the floor from a cut along the captain's jaw. He doesn't know this mission O'Conor speaks of, but he can begin to understand the vague picture of it, the hazy strangeness of it becoming clearer as Declan speaks again.
Two brothers, comrades in arms. A common oath. Bad intel. A mission gone wrong, and in the aftermath of devastation- a man left behind. A deceit so raw and rotten it managed to change him forever.
"We didn't know that there were armed turrets at the compound. How could we have known? It's not as if there were sat images given to us beforehand. Right, Johnathan?"
A tick. A tiny one in Price's jaw, there and gone before König could fully glimpse it.
"Though I suppose we did know, didn't we?" O'Conor continues, years of anger, of putrid hatred scraping hard against the inside of his throat. "Or...you knew, captain."
He spits the word like it offends him, as if Price's title is a personal affront. It elicits the smallest of reactions from Price, a tightening on his shoulders, an unsteady breath through his broken nose.
O'Conor listens to it, leans forward in his chair and turns Price's bloodied, bruised face to look him in the eyes. Price doesn't flinch, doesn't blink, and König feels something akin to respect at the unflinching, unwavering determination in the captain's blue-eyed stare.
"Who made the call?" Declan asks, voice fatally low, a whisper of imminent lethality.
It's a threat, thinly veiled, a lurking shadow that falls with ominous silence over the room. Yet Price remains entirely unaffected, silent, scowling at his captor. König blinks idly at the expression on the captain's face, noting that even though Price does not speak, the untamed fury in his eyes remains ever clear. A blazing rage that even in silence seems to simmer under König's skin, remind him of the lives this man has taken, the brutality of which he is capable of.
If it unsettles O'Conor to see, he doesn't give any indication. Instead, he exhales through his nose, sits back in his chair a bit, studying the captain.
"I should have known you wouldn't crack so easily." Declan declares, and there's a sudden tint of respect in his voice, and admiration at Price's resolve. Yet then his eyes slide over to König's form, and under the mask König allows himself to frown at the sudden keenness in his commander's gaze.
"I guess we'll have to start using alternative methods so we can have the conversation we want." He says cryptically, his eyes never leaving König's, a piercing stare that suddenly has the Austrian's skin rippling with awareness.
Declan removes his touch from Price, and there’s a moment where König notices a flutter of relief in the man’s eyes. He watches the Irishman turn for a moment, sitting upright in his chair before he looks at König.
König nearly flinches under his stare, feeling a disconcerted uncertainty at the meaningfulness in his commander’s gaze, a message he doesn’t yet understand. The words there whisper an ominous warning, a cryptic clarion of danger he can’t decipher.
"Maybe we'll have to ask that corporal of yours." O'Conor states then, turning back to Price, and that manages to elicit a reaction from the captain, whose head rises and his eyes focus on O'Conor with the briefest flicker of shock.
Declan catches it though, and König sees the sudden light of sadism that passes over the commander's gaze just as confusion fills his own chest.
"That's right, John." He rumbles, voice dipping low, a smile creeping across his face. "You probably don't remember, but we caught that little sniper of yours too. She's a feisty thing, isn't she?"
König resists the urge to shift uncomfortably where he stands, lips pursing under the hood. It's a lie, the idea that KorTac has you in custody, but Price doesn't know that. He was unconscious by the time you escaped, his memories likely a vague haze of fire and destruction and a voice screaming out his name. He doesn't know that you're safe, that the man in the corner had let you go, released you in a moment of pure choice, knowing he was sparing you from the same fate Price faced now.
The thought that even now you could be in another room, restrained, beaten, bloody in the way Price is...
König clenches his fist in the crook of his elbow, forces himself to steady, ignoring the sudden flash of rage that alights within his veins.
"You're lying." Price says then, and König's eyes shoot up to fully regard the captain, who stares not at Declan, but at König. "You don't have her."
König feels something akin to relief then, knowing Price won't fall for this farce, that even now you can't be weaponized against him. It's a strange reaction, this sudden sympathy for his enemy, and König's brow furrows as he considers it, tries to suppress the need to look at Price in pity.
"Are you sure, captain?" Declan asks then, and he wrenches Price's gaze back to him, only for the captain to grimace at the touch fisting his short hair. Yet he doesn’t return Declan’s stare as he did before, full of fire and brimstone and ruin. Now it feels strangely uncertain, and if König stares at him long enough, he thinks he can almost see something akin to despair flicker behind the captain’s eyes.
"Maybe I could have my subordinate here bring her in for a show.” Declan goes on, and there’s a near waver to his voice, like a child that is trying to contain his own inexhaustible excitement. “He's been having quite a lot of fun with her, after all."
There's a moment where König processes the words the commander has just spoken, body rigid, eyes wide, entirely still.
Price snarls.
"You keep your filthy fucking hands off my sniper!" He grates then, throat thick with blood as he thrashes in his restraints. The insinuation is not unlost on him, and now that fury in his eyes has risen to the point of something feral, something primal at the thought of his enemies defiling one of his team in such a way.
Revulsion rises in König's chest, wet and sickly, and for a moment he suppresses the urge to gag at what O'Conor has suggested. Yet Declan's eyes are now turned to König with an unblinking, smirking stare, as if the man seems to know what he's doing, knows the reaction he wrenches from the Austrian.
It doesn’t make sense, this sudden sadism directed not at his enemy, but at his own soldier, his comrade. The confusion and disgust of it roils inside König’s chest as he tries to understand, tries to decipher the look in his eyes, the meaning behind his stare-
Then, in a single instant, the air and the warm, damp air in König’s lungs seems to suck into a void-less vacuum, a dark and repulsive dread rising to take its place.
He knows.
He knows about König's fascination with this enemy sniper of which he speaks, knows how you dance in his thoughts- untouchable, magnificent, a creature he wants desperately to touch to know it was real. Like the strange mythical creatures in his childhood fairytales, König watches you from a distance and wishes he could somehow capture you, and yet knows the beauty of you is that you remain just out of reach, a desperate wish he can never have.
And Declan knows. He knows the lengths König has gone to in order to get the barest glimpse of you, seems to know the confines of his heart through his piercing stare, the whisper of Roze in his ear.
"You." Price suddenly growls, and König flinches at the sudden rise of Price's voice that cracks like broken bones in the silence of the dark basement. The captain's eyes have landed on him now, focused their scopes on the massive figure laying dormant in the shadows.
"I know what you did to her, you bloody bastard."
Price’s voice cuts through König, sharper than any blade and serrated as it slices against his exposed form. The raw, vulnerable center of him, drawn forth by the horror of his epiphany, thumps deafening in his chest. Yet it’s the insinuation of Price’s words that have him recoil in revulsion, the accusation unspoken and yet dangerously clear. If O'Connor's stare has flayed open the bleeding center of him, it’s Price’s words that have landed a fatal blow, driving a jagged sword straight through his festering soul.
“I’ll KILL YOU!!” Price suddenly bellows, thrashing in his restraints with such severity König thinks they might somehow snap and set the man free.
There's a moment where König almost has the urge to press himself against the wall further away from the captain lest he somehow free himself. If the way he nearly suffocated Aksel was any indication, König doubts that size alone will be of any benefit if he ever had to face the captain.
Yet it's not that, but the dripping, sneering ichor of Price's words that have König shrinking backwards into himself at the captain's accusation. That he had...touched Maus, had tainted her in such a way, robbed her of her own autonomy in a way that makes his stomach lurch with utter disgust.
I didn't. He wants to say, wants to plead. I never would hurt Maus like that, or anyone, I'd-
Yet then König's eyes flicker to O'Conor, realizing the emotions painted clear across his eyes, and he flinches at the change in the commander's stare. Gone now is the sly, smirking sadism in the man's eyes, a dark pleasure at Price's fury. Instead, there's a warning, a threat in his gaze that ruminates with consequences, dire implications at König's treacherous thoughts.
Don't speak. It seems to say. Say nothing.
This is your punishment for straying away from your duty.
Traitor.
A dark, uncertain void fills König's chest, the air suddenly stale, his own doubts cracking at the frame of his body, pushing outwards from his chest. Price snarls again, a threat, but one that König doesn't fear as much as the commander's dark, warning stare that seems to seize him and drag him downwards into that pool of ichor that puddles at his feet. He sinks into it, thrashes at the tar that binds him as he descends, fury swallowed by a franticness that has him somehow reaching for you within his mind, if only to drag you down with him.
The panic of his carefully guarded lies, of being accused of something so rotten by the one you respect so much, makes bile rise sharply in his throat, and without a word König pushes off the wall, turns and throws the door open to the room before storming away in disgust. Price’s voice echoes after him, thunderous and utterly furious, a promise of a slow, painful death should the man ever be set upon him. König can hardly blame him, not with the things he must believe, the murderous contempt he must harbor for him.
Yet there’s nothing König can do to try and defend himself, not with O’Conor’s watchful stare, his finger on the trigger to destroy the Austrian if he so wished.
He’s such a fool.
A fool for allowing himself to be exposed like this, for letting himself be obvious, rendering him helpless against the truth. Yet more than that he’s a fool for allowing himself to be mystified, entranced by the one thing he could not have, for daring to believe in fairytales from his youth, for reaching for you despite himself.
Now the world around him begins to shatter at the seams, and there’s no doubt in his mind O’Conor will take the barest hint of weakness and pull on it until König becomes unraveled at the seams by his secrets.
There’s a thought then, dark and looming like a thundercloud over green pastures. If Declan knows, he knows now König’s weakness, knows how to use it against him, how to restrain and muzzle him like an animal lest he be allowed to roam free in search of you.
Caged.
A dangerous, wild thing that can’t be tamed. Only killed.
The hallways blur around König as he paces in a mindless fury through them, cursing under his breath, caught in a web of his own design. The familiar ache of regret, of self-hatred bristles and growls inside him, snapping at the fraught sinew of his soul. It’s too much, and the one place König knows to retreat is occupied by the last man he wants to see. The fabric of his hood itches at his face, the air feels too warm, his skin feels like it’s blistering-
He rounds a corner, his boots thundering on the floors, and there’s a smaller figure that doesn’t recoil from his massive stature but instead launches forward. There’s a glint of metal in their hand, and König reacts on pure reflex, massive hands outstretched as he grapples with the smaller person, a grunt of effort escaping him as they thrash, plant a vicious kick to his knee that briefly has him stumble. Yet one hand manages to ensnare the wrist holding the blade, and König hoists it high, throwing them off balance.
The smaller figure backpedals as König pushes forward, and he snarls when their back hits the wall, leaving no room for them to retreat.
There’s a moment where König towers over his attacker, pupils blown wide, chest heaving with a feral exertion summoned only by his anger. The person under him seems to freeze upon recognizing the fury stored inside him, and their eyes dart up towards his own- shocked, fearful, bright, and-
König freezes, the hot, searing rush of anger in his blood cooling so quickly it forces the air from his chest.
“You.” He whispers, slightly breathless, voice still rough but now full of wonder.
“…Maus?”
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#König#könig x oc#könig x reader#könig x you#konig x reader#reader insert#x reader#fic: little mouse#cod#cod mw22#cod konig
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The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 10
Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance
Pairing: OT7 x Reader
Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook
Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.
Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.
The dinner went well, you managed to steer clear of Jimin. He seemed to do the same and avoid you. With each course of food that was served, you took time to savour the flavours of each bite. It was amazing, unlike any other type of food you have had before.
“Is it good?” Jin asked.
“Very good. I’ve been loving every dish.” You confessed shyly, making them laugh. Yoongi poured the red wine and handed out the glasses. With 8 glasses to pour, the bottle was finished quickly.
“Have a bite of that then take a sip.” Namjoon advised. You nodded and did as he instructed you. They looked at you expectantly.
“Wow. The flavour has changed entirely.” Your eyes widened in surprise. The tang of the wine was gone, replaced with an almost buttery taste and feel on your tongue.
“Do you drink often?” Taehyung asked.
“No. My mum never really drank much. I guess she was just too busy to drink. But when I was older and able to drink, we did enjoy an occasional beer or soju with our food. That’s about it.” You explained with a shrug.
“Your steak, Miss.” The waiter placed the plate in front of you, arranging the steak knife beside the plate. You looked at the piece of meat in front of you, still steaming from how hot it was. You waited for the other wait staff to put the other dishes down in front of the 7. When they picked up their cutlery, you followed suit to dig in.
They had a mix of meats, some opting for beef and the others opting for pork. But all were high end meats and cuts that were not typically found in other restaurants.
“I’ve never had dry aged meat before. But I’ve heard how good it is.” You told them as you cut a small piece of your steak.
“It condenses the beef flavour with a little bit of funk. I would say it is an acquired taste. Like Jin hyung and Hoseok don’t like it.” Yoongi said. He seemed the most well-versed with food knowledge.
“Really, the beef flavour is more intense. But melts nicely.” You noted as you took your first bite. You had not expected yourself to enjoy it so much.
“Hanwoo has a lot of marbling, which can be heavy. Having it with wine cuts it but I still prefer a leaner cut like filet mignon.” Jin explained.
“Are you guys secretly chefs? Or is this something you learn in school.” You chuckled.
“Yoongi hyung and Jin hyung are interested in food and cooking. For the rest of us... after eating at places like this, you kind of figure out what your preferences are so you know what to order in the future.” Hoseok said, sipping his wine. You guessed it was just a difference in environment.
“Jungkook ah, how are you going to finish that whole porterhouse?” You heard Jin laugh. You craned your neck slightly to see the huge steak that covered Jungkook’s entire plate.
“You know I need the protein, hyung.” Jungkook rolled his eyes.
“Watching you eat makes me feel full.” Yoongi chuckled, leaning his head on his hand. His words reminded you of what your mother used to say to you.
After the steak course, it was the carbohydrate course. With each course, you were feeling more and more full. Until finally, it was time to order the dessert. Now, you didn’t understand the dessert menu.
“What do you recommend for dessert?” You asked.
“Those who are not a fan of sweet things go for the cheese plate and a side of port wine. Their basque cheesecake is good but their Spanish torrija is good. It’s like a spanish style french toast with smoked ice cream.” Namjoon said.
“I’ll try that. The torrija. I love french toast.” You smiled. When the waiters came to clear the plates, the manager took the orders for dessert.
“The torrija for me.” You ordered.
“Excellent choice, miss.” The manager bowed his head, taking the small dessert menu from you before going around to take the order from the rest at the table.
“Just my usual whiskey.” Yoongi handed the menu back to the manager. Namjoon raised his hand as a sign to get him the same as well.
“Grappa for me. From the reserva.” Taehyung said. The manager bowed and left the private room. You were curious about what Yoongi and Namjoon’s ‘usual whiskey’ was. Until the manager came back with a tray. There was a big glass carafe with whiskey at the bottom and some sort of equipment with a rubber tubing attached.
“Your usual whiskey.” The manager lit the equipment and smoke began to emit. You watched intently at what he was doing. He used the rubber tubing to direct the smoke into the carafe with whiskey.
“That’s a smoke gun. It would be used to make the smoked ice cream in your dessert. It infuses a smokey aroma to food and liquids.” Jin whispered.
“Oh. I’ve never seen that before.” You were in awe at how the smoke sat on top of the golden liquid.
“Mr Kim, Mr Min.” The manager poured the smoke-infused whiskey into crystal glasses and handed them to Namjoon and Yoongi. They lifted it up, swirling it to take a sniff.
“Is it... wood in there?”
“Wood chips and dried thyme, the herb. It may be strong to drink but take a whiff.” Namjoon held the glass out to you. You cautiously leaned in to take a smell. It had a good smell to it, cutting the sharpness of the whiskey.
When your dessert came, you so badly wanted to take a photo. It was plated so beautifully that you couldn’t bare to crack into it to eat it. But you didn’t want to seem like even more of an amateur than you already were so you refrained from taking your phone out to snap a picture and just ate.
“The food here has been very good. Unlike anything I’ve had before. Thank you for the experience.” You said to them.
“You’re welcome. Glad you enjoyed it.” Namjoon smiled.
“Jimin? You’re done?” Hoseok noticed that the male had stood up, hands tucked into his pockets and was headed for the exit. He turned around and nodded his head.
“I’m going to the tables.” He said. You tilted your head, unsure of what he meant by the tables. Did he mean the other diners outside?
“There’s an exclusive casino here.” Taehyung explained.
“Jin hyung? You coming?” Jimin asked, ignoring you and looking at the oldest. Jin shared a look with Namjoon before nodding his head. He wiped his mouth and stood up.
“I’ll see you soon, (y/n).” Jin smiled at you. You nodded your head with a small wave before Jin took off with Jimin.
“Do you play cards?”
“No. I’ve never played before or never needed to play.” You said. There was never a need for you to learn how to play any sort of card game. Your mother never brought you or introduced you to the casino, and you never expressed interest in going to a casino. Your lives were so busy, you didn’t have time to go out and gamble.
“Most of us don’t really play, anyway. Only Jimin, Taehyung and Jin hyung.” Yoongi said. Namjoon paid for the meal and you were escorted out to the vans that you all came in.
“What about Jin and Jimin sshi?” You asked.
“They’re gonna be here for a while. They’ll find their own way back.” Jungkook informed. That was the first time he spoke to you that evening.
“O-Okay.” You were just shocked that he was even talking to you.
“We’ll drop you home first.” Yoongi said. You nodded. Before splitting up into their respective vans, you turned to the rest and bowed gratefully, expressing your thanks for them bringing you out for such an exquisite dinner.
“Anytime, (y/n). We’ll go somewhere else next time.” Taehyung grinned widely, patting your shoulder.
“I look forward to it.” You gave a small smile. Taehyung took Jimin’s seat, riding the van with Jungkook while Hoseok took Jin’s seat to ride with Yoongi. That left you to ride with Namjoon.
“Send the car for Jimin and Jin hyung when they’re done.” You heard Hoseok tell the doorman, who nodded and bowed.
“Bye. See you soon.” The others waved to you through the window as your van drove off first. You let out a soft sigh, head leaning back against the head rest. You hadn’t noticed the look of amusement Namjoon was giving you, watching your mannerisms.
“Stressed?”
“N-No.” You quickly denied with a shake of your head, clearing your throat.
“How was it? And I’m not talking about just the food.” Namjoon asked with a laugh at the end.
“It was nice. I’ve never experienced that sort of dining setting before and I feel like I’ve learnt a lot about food and fine dining etiquette. But I hope me being there didn’t make things awkward for everyone.” You sighed.
“Don’t worry about that, (y/n). We want to make sure you’re comfortable around us. And I spoke with Jimin, he won’t incite anymore fights but it will take some time for him to open up.” Namjoon assured.
“Ah, I was hoping he didn’t get in trouble because of me. He is entitled to his feelings after all.” You rubbed the back of your neck.
“He’s old enough that I don’t scold him like a parent. We all have to do things we may not like, it’s compromise. The two of you can just avoid one another until you’re comfortable to sit down and talk. The rest are fine. Jungkook is just... introverted. Once he’s used to you being around, he’ll be more open with his true self.” Namjoon said.
“Yeah, I get the feeling he doesn’t really like me around.” You said sheepishly.
“He feels bad that Jimin is on his own while the rest of us are ‘on the other side’. But of course, that’s not true. There are no sides. He just wants peace as the youngest of us.” He explained.
“You know a lot about them.”
“I have to. It’s my duty as the one with the leadership role of the family now that your father has passed away.” Namjoon shrugged.
“If you don’t mind me asking... Is it hard? Knowing so many people depend on you while you, yourself, are navigating through life? All this is just suddenly your responsibility.” You asked.
“Hmm. While I appreciate the leadership authority everyone gives me, it is definitely not smooth sailing. But I’m glad my brothers help me with that responsibility. It’s not like they dump everything on me and expect me to fix their messes all the time.” Namjoon chuckled.
“I see. You’re a good big brother.” You complimented. You wished you had someone to rely on.
“I was the first person your father brought into the company. Everyone else came after me so I guess I’m used to watching over everyone and showing them the ropes.”
“Can’t say I know what that feels like. I’ve always been on my own. Or rather, it’s always been my mum and myself. Never had to think about siblings or taking care of anyone other than myself.” You confessed.
“It must be hard having to do everything on your own.” Namjoon smiled softly. You let out another sigh.
“There’s independence in it. But there was never anyone to count on. If I want something done, I have to do it myself. There’s no one to help or do it for me.” You said.
“I understand.” Namjoon empathised.
“I guess that’s why I find it hard to rely on others or trust others.” You rubbed your arm.
“Take your time. You don’t have to trust us 100%. Do it at your own pace. But just know you can rely on us to be here. You don’t have to be alone anymore.” He said. You felt tears brim in your eyes but blinked them away, not wanting to cry in front of him. You didn’t say anything more, looking everywhere else except directly at Namjoon.
“We’re here.” The driver came out to open the door for you. You hesitated but decided to go for it, reaching over to wrap your arms around Namjoon. Under your hold, you felt him stiffen.
“Thank you.” You whispered.
“You’re welcome.” He replied, wrapping an arm around you. When you pulled away, he handed over your bag of clothes.
“Goodnight, (y/n).” Namjoon wished.
“Goodnight, Namjoon...” You wished him back and turned to walk towards your house. The driver stood there and waited for you to enter the house before closing the van door to drive Namjoon back home.
“Are you alright, young master Namjoon?” The driver asked when he noticed the forlorn look on Namjoon’s face.
“Yes. Just have a lot to think about.” Namjoon replied. When the driver dropped him off back home, the living room was empty. He heard the faint sound of Yoongi’s piano coming from his room. Taehyung shuffled down the stairs with his silk robe over his long pajamas.
“You’re home...” He yawned.
“Hmm.” Namjoon nodded, going to the bar to pour himself a drink. He downed it all in one go before pouring more to refill his glass.
“Hoseok hyung had to go out. He said there was a security breach at one of the big warehouses so he went to make sure nothing is missing. Jungkook followed him in case he needed back up.” Taehyung informed.
“Good. They can report it in tomorrow’s meeting.” Namjoon replied.
Taehyung leaned his arms on the bannister of the stairs as he watched Namjoon, tilting his head while studying the older’s posture. He looked down at the tarot card in his hand. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to speak to Namjoon about it.
“(y/n)’s okay?” Taehyung asked vaguely. He didn’t want to ask Namjoon directly what happened, knowing the leader won’t let him into his thoughts.
“Yes. We talked but things are well.” Namjoon replied. Taehyung hummed in reply, deciding to just give up.
“Don’t drown your sorrows, Namjoon hyung. The hangovers are not worth it.” Taehyung said, a slight teasing tone evident in his words, hiding his previous intentions of going to see the leader.
“There are no sorrows to drown, Taehyung ah.” Namjoon chuckled.
His head was filled with the conversation he had with you. How different your lives were. You grew up on your own, being taught to fight for yourself to survive while the 7 were taught to fight for each other and survive as a whole.
Jimin hummed as he stepped out of the casino, removing the cigarette from his lips and dropping it onto the gravel, crushing it under his boot. Patrons entering the casino fawned over his good looks.
“Ah...” Jin stretched his arms over his head with a yawn, walking out to stand beside Jimin. He tucked his cold hands back into the pockets of his pants.
“The car’s coming.” Jimin said, checking his phone. He had called the driver 15 minutes ago.
“Ugh, I need to sleep. But we played good tonight.” Jin declared, patting Jimin on the back. They had all their winnings from the night in their account so they didn’t need to worry about handling physical cash. Jimin looked at the words written on the small card the general manager had slipped into his pocket before he left.
“What’s that?” Jin asked.
“It’s the details for the next high stakes game. That’s why I wanted to play tonight. Win at the odd number tables and when you reach the end, you get the invite.” Jimin explained.
“Aren’t you always invited anyway?” Jin rolled his eyes. Jimin was known above ground and underground for his skills, the organisers would always send him a personal invitation to any of the high stake poker games.
“But it’s interesting to see how a normal would get in.” Jimin smirked. The driver came and opened the door for them to climb in.
“If there’s no reason for me to go, I won’t play.” Jimin said.
“The president contacting Taehyung will stir things for sure. He’s worried about the hit list on the other politicians. The one you retrieved. Can’t let his city go into war.” Jin noted.
“We’re just doing his dirty work for him then. Or rather, being the peacemaker.” Jimin rolled his eyes with a scoff.
“That or we have the Korean military storming our place.” Jin laughed.
“We can always escape... We have the resources to...” Jimin said bitterly. But he knew that they wouldn’t just up and leave because of their late boss’ legacy. They wouldn’t let the company die and they wouldn’t want to leave you alone to deal with possible repercussions of their crimes.
“We make them happy, they leave us alone to run our business. That’s why Namjoon let their military test at our lab. They won’t shut us down and it grants us access into their military projects.” Jin revealed.
“So that’s why he agreed to that.” Jimin finally understood the intention behind Namjoon’s actions.
“Our backing is strong. Everyone will be fighting for our help anyway so might as well use that to our advantage.” Jin shrugged.
Jimin stared out the window. He was glad throughout the night alone with him, Jin didn’t bring you up or ask him why he was so hostile towards you. After chatting with Namjoon, Jimin agreed it was best if he just avoided you as much as possible.
You put all your clothes in the washing machine to do laundry. You opted to just walk around in an old, oversized shirt and underwear. While the washing machine was running, you sat with your computer in the kitchen.
‘How to play poker?’
“Ah, this is too difficult.” You looked at how to play ‘Texas Hold’em’, which is the most played variant of poker.
You thought back to the conversation at the start of the dinner. Maybe they had just helped you choose your major. You weren’t choosing it for them but at least you now had a proper reason to choose linguistics.
~~
Series Masterlist
Ko-Fi
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#kpop#kpop scenarios#kpop series#bts#bts scenarios#bts series#bts x you#bts x y/n#bts x reader#poly bts#bts poly#poly!bts#poly bts x reader#poly!bts x reader#ot7#ot7 bts#bts ot7#ot7 x reader#bts mafia au#mafia bts#bts mafia#mafia!bts#mafia au
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I’ve been having some terrible stomach pains (recently diagnosed with endometriosis) and it’s kicking my ass! Was hoping you could please do a f!request on how the bad batchers would help reader? Established and non established relationships is fine 😊 thank you in advance if you do this!
Caring for You - Endometriosis***
Bad Batch Boys X F!Reader
warnings: Very brief mention of implied sex, female reader with Endometriosis, blood 🩸, mentions of reader feeling low and in pain, established relationships, lots of comfort. 🤍
authors note: here you go darling, sorry to hear this! I couldn’t imagine dealing with this 🙁 hope this gives you all the comfort and cuteness you need. 🤍
Endometriosis definition and symptoms for those not familiar, like myself (thanks google):
It is a long-term condition where tissue similar to the lining of the womb grows in other places, such as the ovaries and fallopian tubes.
The main symptoms of endometriosis are:
pain in your lower tummy or back (pelvic pain) – usually worse during your period
period pain that stops you doing your normal activities
pain during or after sex
pain after using the toilet during your period
feeling sick, constipation, diarrhoea, or blood in your pee during your period
difficulty getting pregnant
You may also have heavy periods.
may sometimes lead to feelings of depression.
Echo 🤍
In the quiet cocoon of your bunk, the persistent ache of your abdomen tightens its grip, creating a throbbing discomfort that feels like an unwelcome guest. You're curled up tight, a subtle wince marking each passing wave of pain. You curse as each throbbing pain feel like your abdomen is having its own battleground, aching and cramping with an intensity that leaves you breathless.
Sensing your silent struggle, Echo delicately places a plush blanket over you, its warmth like a feeble shield against the raging storm inside.
As he settles beside you, his eyes reflect a mixture of empathy and helplessness. He reaches for your hand, his touch alone like a claiming balm.
Soft whispers escape his lips, "I hate to see you in pain." His fingers gently trace soothing patterns on your palm, and you can only mutter a faint ‘thanks’, not feeling up to talking too much.
He helps you sit up as he presents you a steaming cup of caf and when sipping the tea, you feel a momentary respite. But the pain lingers.
Your boyfriend's tender touch on your waist extends to your hair, his fingers stroking away tension as his gaze conveys a profound understanding.
"You're strong," he murmurs, his voice a gentle relief, "and I'm here for you.” You were more than thankful to have Echo by your side..
Hunter 🤍
Finding a place to stay other than the Marauder for the night, Hunter heads to the hotel room he knew you were resting upon when he stops and catches a subtle shift in the air.
Following the trail that leads to your shared room, he finds you on the couch, your face contorted in silent agony and the metallic tang of blood mingles with the room's atmospherea.
Silently, Hunter approaches, his keen eyes discerning the distress etched on your features. With a swift, graceful movement, he pulls you into his lap and then wraps a blanket around you, shielding you from both the physical and emotional chill. His eyes painted a shade of empathetic concern. "How much pain are you in?”
“I feel like death.” You grumble in reply, sweat painting your sickly looking face.
He watches you, whispering soothing words but grows a little panicked when he notices a larger shift in your demeanor, body feeling a little limp. You’ve done this before, clearly feeling faint and doing what he can only do, hold you a little closer and wait for the pain to subside. “You’re going to be okay, doll. I’m here.”
Wrecker 🤍
"Hey, hey, what's up, baby? Are you—oh." Wrecker's eyes, filled with adoration just moments ago, quickly shift to concern as he hovers over you.
Witnessing your gasp of agony, you curl into yourself, abruptly halting the intimate moment. Wrecker sits up, his gentle yet fumbling hands taking hold of you, lifting you from the now blood-stained sheets and guiding you to the refresher.
"I'm sorry, Wreck. I'm sorry—agh!" You cry out, a wave of embarrassment and pain washing over you as your period arrives, accompanied by the sharp ache in your abdomen.
"No need for sorry's," he whispers, placing a soft kiss on your hair. "Have a quick shower, and I'll tidy up back there, okay?" However, he pauses when he notices the sadness in your eyes, cradling your chin gently. "It's okay. I'm here."
As you shower yourself clean, Wrecker quickly puts the sheets in the wash, pulls out all the sanitary products he memorised from when you had this bad spell before and gets out your comfiest nightwear and socks.
Tech 🤍
"Following the laparoscopy results I conducted, I can confirm a diagnosis of endometriosis." He adjusts his goggles and fixes a concerned gaze upon you.
This underlying issue, persistent for a while, found clarity after Tech convinced you to undergo a small operation he performed himself. The confirmation of endometriosis hits you, and tears well up uncontrollably.
Tech flinches at the sudden sound of you sobbing, quickly setting aside his device. Kneeling in front of you, he takes your hands into his. "Darling, are you in pain?"
The diagnosis stings, and the prospect of enduring agonizing pain every month overwhelms you. Tech sighs softly, "I will be here for you every step of the way."
"I can't do this, Tech. I can't endure this every month," you sob, hiding your face in your hands.
Tech grapples with the feeling of helplessness, acknowledging the absence of a cure. However, a glimmer of hope emerges. "I will do everything in my power to explore treatments, to make this pain tolerable. Whether it's creating a concoction or a device, I won't rest until you are free of pain."
Wiping away your tears, you muster strength through the pain to meet his gaze. "You don't have to do so much for me, Tech," you sniffle. "You've already done so much."
"And I will do a lot more," he says softly, leaning in and placing a delicate kiss on your forehead. "Whatever it takes."
Crosshair 🤍
"Are you getting out of bed today or not?" Crosshair's gruff voice echoes as he notices you curled up under layers of blankets, facing the wall for hours. He's aware you've been talking to Hunter, so he knows you're awake.
You grunt in response, and Crosshair, assuming laziness, rolls his eyes. "Come on, get up; there's stuff to do." As he yanks the blankets off, his expression changes when he sees splotches of blood on your sheets and pants. You sit up abruptly, yanking the sheets back, tears welling in your eyes.
"Kriff, sorry, kitten," he sighs, sitting on the edge of your bunk. He raises a hand to you, checking your temperature. "Is it happening again?"
"Yeah," you sniff, "and my flow is heavier than usual, as you can tell." You sigh, feeling completely embarrassed.
"Do you not have any pads?" he asks. You're grateful for Crosshair's tenderness, appreciating how he's always been gentle and caring, especially considering your endometriosis, which you initially thought might complicate your relationship.
"I ran out yesterday, so I've just been using tissue," you admit, shaking your head.
Crosshair frowns. "Why didn't you say anything to me?"
"I didn't want to be a problem." The words hang in the air, but Crosshair gently cups your cheek.
"Never will you be a problem. I'm here for you, and so are the others. We can go get some pads."
You manage a soft smile, still feeling and looking completely drained. "We've already left the town. I don't want to tell Tech to turn around just for me. He was dead set on finding a port for outer repairs."
"Leave it with me, princess." After kissing your clammy cheek, Crosshair heads straight into the cockpit. You suppress a laugh as you hear, "Tech, turn this ship around right now."
You knew you were in good hands as long as Crosshair is around.
Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @sol-the-otter @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @imalovernotahater @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @photogirl894 @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness
#nahoney22 writes#the bad batch x reader#the bad batch x you#tech x reader#echo x reader#Hunter x reader#wrecker x reader#crosshair x reader#the bad batch#the bad batch HC’s
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Jealous for Wukong please?
Word Count: 846
Rating: some language. Fluff only.
Content/Trigger Warnings: N/A. minor spoiler for those who don't know who the scorpion ep is.
Authors Notes: I'mma assume this is for LMK. When requesting, please be specific. ♥
___________________________
“(Y/n), where’ve you been?!” Wukong grinned when his eyes landed on you. You looked at him suspiciously. “You look absolutely breathtaking!”
“I was gone for nine minutes. What did you two do to my boyfriend?” you folded your arms and looked at
“W-w-well, you see-” Tang stuttered nervously, but eventually told you what happened in your absence.
“You did what?!” your loud voice made them flinch. “Out of all the idiotic-”
“Relax, (Y/n), don't be so mean to master,” Wukong laughed a bit. “Forgive her, master, you know how she gets.”
“Right…” Tang nodded and watched as Wukong was even more stuck to you. Sure, you'd told them before that Wukong was even more clingy back in the day, but he never expected this.
“Master!” Wukong yelled as the mystery demon kidnapped Tang.
“Ugh, this day just keeps getting longer and longer,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and watched the two in silence. You could feel a headache coming on.
“Fear not, my love, I will get master back from that demon,” he assured. Though you already knew this, Pigsy looked at you with a skeptical look.
“Listen, what we have to do is focus on getting Tang back from that demon before the”
“Excuse me,”
“What?” Pigsy looked at Monkey King with a glare before he was picked up and tossed away. “Hey!”
“Wukong-”
“Fear not, my love, that piglet won't bother you any more,”
“Would you quit calling me that?!”
“Let it go, man,” you tried to console the pig demon, but that only led to Wukong giving him the stink eye.
You could remember in detail how protective Wukong was of you, especially after he left you for 500 years when he was imprisoned in the Mountain of Five Elements. Now that he was back in that mind space, you knew better than anyone what was to be expected from the Monkey King.
“Where’s my staff?” your attention was brought back to Wukong as he looked around and saw some random long stick. “Ah! My trusty staff!”
You couldn't help but roll your eyes as he spat on his hands, rubbed them together, and then picked up the stick. You'd have said something, but it was better and easier to just let him do whatever under your watchful eye.
“Huh, lighter than I remember,” he mumbled to himself, you had to keep from making any sound of amusement.
“Let's just get ‘master’ back safe and sound, so we can get back on track,”
“I agree with you 1000%, my love,” he said and looked at you with love in his eyes. How eyes, however, grew stern as he pulled you away from Pigsy and kept you at his side. He was too cute to handle.
“You can let me go now,” you looked at him with an amused smile that made his heart race.
“I have to make sure that piglet doesn't try anything again,”
“What do you mean again?! I never did anything wrong!”
Throughout the entire ordeal, Wukong made sure that Pigsy kept his distance from you. He even went on to hold you on his shoulders like he was your throne.
“Really, Wukong, you don't have to carry me,”
“Nonsense!” he laughed. “I don't mind, you're really light!”
“Why do I bother?” you sighed heavily, but gave up on fighting him on the matter.
So, you just enjoyed the view and blushed whenever he caressed your leg or kissed your ankle. You never thought that you would actually miss this; him being publicly sweet and overly clingy. You really enjoyed it, and seeing him being so overprotective whenever ‘Zhu Bajie’ spoke to you was very entertaining to watch.
After you got Tang back from the friendless scorpion demon and Pigsy left her with one, things were to be back to normal… BUT YOU DIDN'T EXPECT THAT UNGRATEFUL BASTARD TO DROP A FUCKING BOULDER ON HIM!
It almost gave you a fucking heart attack before he broke the boulder and stood good as knew. Another thing you didn't expect was him breathing fire, that was funny.
“Why is my mouth on fire?” he questioned before Tang had the audacity to hug him. “Why are you hugging me?” he was so confused as he looked at you for help, but you could only smile. He narrowed his eyes seeing you so close to Pigsy though, and was quick to grab you and hold you in his arms. “Why does my head hurt so much?”
“Let's just say…” you started as you wrapped your arms around your jealous man. “It’s been a long day.”
“Hm…” he nodded, looking over your face as a small smile formed.
“What?” you raised a brow at his expression.
“Nothing…” he chuckled. “You're just really pretty, and I love you,” he smiled and kissed you softly.
“Yo, hate to break up the lovely moment, but some of us need to get going!”
Oh, you heard Pigsy alright, you just ignored him and continued to kiss your King to your heart’s content. He earned it.
#request#x reader#lmk#lmk x reader#lego monkie kid#Lego: Monkey King#lego monkie kid sun wukong#monkey king#sun wukong#wukong#lmk sun Wukong#lmk sun wukong x reader#wukong LMK#lego monkie kid wukong
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Yandere/smut Tae or Yoongi PLS 🥲🥵😵💫
the red means i love you:
pairing: yandere! taehyung x yandere! f. reader
genre: fluff || smut || established relationship || non-idol au || yandere
summary: taehyung always knew how to cheer you up.
word count: 1.3k
tags/ warnings: murder and blood, consumption of said blood, very very morally wrong ending/brief descriptions of a dead body, smut in the forms of: public sex, exhibitionism, unprotected sex (this is fiction, don't be stupid), squirting, creampie, mild cum play
notes: drabble game is closed <3 i think i'm slowly figuring out how to write such short smut scenes... maybe, i had to cut some of the good bits out :')
☆ this is definitely one of the more morally grey drabbles (mostly the ending) i've done so far, so please check the tags before reading!!
drabble masterlist || my main masterlist
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Taehyung was beyond an ordinary being. Crafted by hands made of gold, wired by a brain as fucked up as his own. The same gentle fingers that had moulded your brain from the depths of hell, all the little things that make us the wrong kind of human, programmed into your entities.
Maybe you’d been designed for Taehyung, understanding his kind of love just as he understands yours. Two shattered souls finding their broken half, because surely if the both of you were insane alone, together you’re nothing but normal.
Every dip in Taehyung’s skin and impurity in his design is utterly perfect in your eyes. Truly a god among humans. A love so raw, you find yourself toeing the line of mania; small things throwing you to the edge. Heart shattered during the moments apart, or suffocating hate for every other human he interacts with.
Now, Taehyung was perfect. He could pull off any colour, face ethereal, proportions unmatched; but you’d always felt he’d looked best in red.
White button-up tainted, stained with the blood of a woman whose name neither of you know; will never know.
Your thighs clench as Taehyung wipes his bloodied hands over his slacks, smearing the red further up his wrists, trailing his honeyed skin like a snake.
Really it was her own fault, sauntering up to your table like you weren’t sitting there; like Taehyung wasn’t clearly taken. As if the ring on his finger, and eyes that belonged to you weren’t enough of a clue that he wasn’t interested in her lame attempts at seduction.
You hadn’t been happy, understandably so. Bitter, ugly jealousy consuming your mind. Petty in the way you’d turned your head when he’d tried to talk to you, or brushing him off as he’d tried to feed you your favourite dessert. Taehyung’s lucky he knows how to brighten your mood, never one to shy away from pulling you into an alleyway beside the bar, whore of a woman taking his invitation for a good time. A shame really, when only you and Tae seem to ever find unbridled excitement from what happens after that.
Ever the sadist, your panties had slicked up deliciously at her muffled screams.
“You’re ever so pretty” you sigh, Taehyung’s fingers digging into your jaw, sticky blood smearing across your skin.
“I was just about to say the same thing about you, my love” he hums, plush lips skimming over the shell of your ear.
A moan catches in the back of your throat as a stray hand grabs onto the meat of your ass, your lover’s straining cock pressed up against your lower stomach.
“Need you, Tae” you whimper, rubbing your cheek a little further into his palm.
He groans as you cup his bulge, gravelly in a way that has another pitiful flush of slick spilling into your panties.
Impatient, you tug haphazardly at his belt.
“Let me take care of you” he murmurs, slipping his thumb into your mouth, metallic tang of blood coating your tongue.
Your legs fall open a little wider as a curious hand wanders up your skirt, nails scratching over your lacy panties. He wastes no time, tugging the crotch to the side, lips quirking up as he runs a finger through your sodden folds.
“So wet, my love. All for me?”
You nod, hands wandering under his shirt, nails digging into whatever skin you can hold. Lines of raw red love sure to paint his skin, a reminder that he is only ever to be yours. Dull ache of your nails on his skin sending arousal straight to his cock.
Taehyung’s lips press against your jaw, breath tickling your bare skin as he runs his tongue over your neck, working his way down your chest; tugging your blouse down below the swell of your breasts, the prettiest little canvas.
Purple flowers bloom from your skin, Taehyung’s favourite kind of art that he spends painting each morning, your skin is always that little bit tender from his lips.
You’re pushed against the concrete wall, back arching as the cold sinks into your bones.
Slicked-up fingers brush over your clit causing your hips to buck.
“Turn around for me, my love” Taehyung pats your ass, tongue wetting his bottom lip when you do as told, fingers grasping the hem of your skirt. You tug it up around your waist, arching your back enough for Taehyung to get a glimpse of your slick-stained panties and sodden folds.
“Good girl” he croons, fingers digging into the flesh of your asscheeks.
The corners of your lips tug up when the click of his belt echoes off the walls of the alleyway, your pussy clenching around nothing as you’re reminded of where you are; world passing by, barely concealed.
You sigh when Taehyung pulls the crotch of your panties to the side over your ass, blunt cockhead running through your folds. Your knees buckle as the tip nudges your clit, electric pleasure thrumming down your body.
“Inside, Tae” you rock backwards, slicking his cock up further before he’s grabbing it at the base, impatient as he sinks into you.
You moan, arousal leaking out of your pussy, leaving the inside of your thighs shiny.
“So deep” you sigh, hand reaching back to hold Taehyung’s waist, helping him sink further into you.
Taehyung groans, hands falling to hold your waist as he pulls back, only briefly before he’s rocking back into you.
You quiver, fingers digging into the wall, delicate skin flaring red as Taehyung starts to pick up the pace. Guttural groan rivalled by the lewd squelch of your cunt.
“Harder” you whine, selfish in your own pleasure as you rub your clit, hurdling towards your orgasm.
You hear a group of people laughing, footsteps pattering louder and louder, Taehyung unashamed as he grunts, hips smacking against your ass leaving it red; leaving his claim.
“Fuck–” he cries, “Cum for me, come on” a hand slithers round the front of your body, deft fingers snaking under the band of your bra, delicious pleasure sending you over the edge as he tugs at one of your nipples.
Your thighs shake as you continue to thrum over your clit, body bending just enough for Taehyung’s cock to hit a sweet spot; a rush of wetness splashing against the wall. Rather, you grind your clit onto the palm of your hand, pitiful dribble wetting your thighs further as your orgasm ebbs away.
“Fucking hell” Taehyung groans, cock twitching.
His hand travels down the front of your body, thumbing over your clit before he’s rubbing your own watery cum into the meat of your thighs.
“Cum Tae” you whine weakly, bordering jittery overstimulation.
He punches back into you one more time, holding you to his chest by the weak hold he has over your pubic bone. And then he cums; thick ropes of seed soothing your insides as he gently rocks back into you.
“So good” his head falls onto your shoulder, half-limp cock slipping out of you as he staggers back slightly.
Your mouth falls open at the dribble of thick cum that trickles down your thighs, a breathy whimper falling off your tongue when Taehyung scoops it up, fingering it back into your pussy.
He pulls your panties back over your hole, arm slipping around your waist to hold you up as he tugs your skirt back into place.
“No~” you whine, “You got blood on my favourite blouse” you gape at the handprints that have seeped into the material.
“I’ll buy you a new one, baby” he frowns, kissing your cheek, then your lips, “but first, we need to finish a little job”
Your gaze flicks to the corpse, the poor woman is probably cold by now; the night was bitter after all.
Her blood had seeped into the crevices of the pavement, horror on her face artistic, haunting even, in the dull streetlights.
“Have I ever told you how much I love you in red?” you turn to Taehyung, tongue wetting your bottom lip.
“All the time, my love. You look just as enthralling” he smudges the blood on your cheek, lips pressing a chaste kiss to your lips; smudged red. Maybe with blood, maybe with lipstick. He isn’t sure, though he thinks it suits you.
#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts#bts fluff#bts taehyung#taehyung imagine#taehyung x reader#taehyung fluff#taehyung smut#taehyung#bts imagines#bts x reader#bts x female reader#bts non idol au#bts yandere
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i think he knows | chapter one
Summary: A few days have passed since your eyes met, and now, after waiting for him to come, he's finally in front of you again. However, someone isn't happy about his return.
Warnings: None I don't think for this one. If you believe there is any that I should add please let me know.
Word Count: 1716
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A/N: I finished writing this before even looking at any notes or feedback from the prologue, I think I'm going to enjoy writing this one.
Tags: @bigtreefest
Lunchtime chatter was buzzing around the cafeteria while you sat at your usual table, you had tried to distract your mind from your encounter with Bucky the previous week by pulling out your newest book. You couldn't read it, every time you tried to finish the chapter, you'd glace back to where he was sat. The seat had not been occupied by him since that day. His smirking face, the piercing blue gaze. Your thoughts couldn’t help but wonder back, it was as if he had cast a spell straight out of your fantasy books. It drew you in no matter your efforts to resist it.
Across the room, at his usual table, Steve sat with his friends and Sharon. The protective instincts were always on high alert in busy areas, the school’s cafeteria was no exception. Scanning the crows for any signs of trouble, he’d glance over at you every few minutes to ensure you were okay. Since he witnessed Bucky gaze upon you last week, he’s felt uneasy.
Bucky, as if on cue, entered the cafeteria alone. His group of friends are nowhere to be seen, strange as they are normally bound to the hips. He made his way over to your table, sitting directly opposite you rather than a few tables away. Your eyes adjusted to the shape of him in front of you, once again a smirk appearing over his lips. As far as you had been aware, you’d never been this close to him. The smell of the intertwining scent of cigarettes and the metallic tang from exhaust fumes, a scent that would usually make her nose crinkle and try to avoid, filled the air between you. It was far from your vanilla buttercream shower essentials, but, you couldn’t help but feel enchanted by it.
“Hey, Sunshine,” The nickname was drawn out as he readjusted himself on the stool, leaning closer towards you. “Have you been missing me?”
Your pulse began racing at the sound of his voice, how was this the first time you’d heard it? And, it’s taunting you. You knew you should have asked him to leave, not only did she not want to be rude to him, but there was something about his presence that you couldn’t resist. There wasn’t a second that you felt uncomfortable or in any sort of danger, he had a warmth about him. Either that, or, you had inhaled too much for his scent.
Before you could speak up, Steve appeared at the end of the table, clearing his throat. The tension between you and Bucky had been cut, not realizing until now how hot you were getting under his gaze. “Is there a problem here?” He asked while looking at you, if it wasn’t for the hostility in his tone then you’d of never realized the question was toward Bucky.
Unfazed by Steve and his presence, Bucky chuckled at him. “No problem’s here, Cap.” Steve rolled his eyes at the nickname, another taunt from Bucky, this time a taunt at the legacy Steve had created for himself. Not one that sets butterflies off in your stomach. You switched your gaze between the two, a nervous glance at each of them. Your loyalty to your brother had always been at the forefront of your mind. He was another part of you, he was who you looked up to for almost everything. But, you were growing an attraction to Bucky. It may be playing with fire, but you couldn’t help it. It was warm and inviting.
Neither of them was backing down, the tension only grew, gaining the attention of surrounding classmates. Whispers, speculation, and curious glances added to your discomfort. Now would have been the perfect time to be read. Escape the judgmental gazes and the weight of uncertainty.
Bucky stood from the table only to lean over the table, getting closer to your ear. “You’re smart enough to know, Sunshine, you can’t stay away.” His whispers tickled your ear, once again sending shivers down your spine. Your cheeks began to burn, your palms felt sticky.
“Back off, Barnes,” Steve interjected with a firm voice and a shove to Bucky’s shoulder. You stood from your seat about to get in between the two as others began to crowd more closely. “Stay away from my sister.” His words were not only a warning to Bucky but the whole cafeteria. He stood tall showing he would stand up and fight anyone who ignored the warning. Bucky’s smirk faltered as he steadied himself on his feet, there was something that you couldn’t decipher now taking place over his face. Was it regret? Sorrow? Or was it something entirely different? It only served to deepen the tension in the room.
Thankfully, you thought, the bell rang to signal the end of lunch. The tension you didn’t realize you were holding released from your jaw. You began gathering up your book, homework, and stationery, preparing to leave. Your mind began racing with thoughts of the game you had found yourself in. The hardest test she would ever take, one she had not studied a second for. As you rushed out, you glanced back at Steve and Bucky, still locked in a silent standoff having a private conversation with their glares, neither wanting to back down.
~
Navigating your way through the hallways trying to dodge other rushing students to your next period, your mind buzzed with conflicting thoughts and emotions. Bucky’s words left you feeling both excited and nervous. Could you not stay away? All these years you had never once thought about Bucky in any way, positive or negative, and now, after one glance he had fogged your mind for days.
Turning a corner, you collided with another body not realizing that they were also turning. “Watch it.” A Sokovian accent exclaimed, her voice was thick with annoyance as she steadied herself and fit her coat. Wanda Maximoff: one of your most trusted allies. A transfer student who just never went home. You and Wanda became great friends not long after you volunteered to show her around the school.
“Wanda! Sorry!” You replied while also steading yourself, looking around to make sure you didn’t drop anything. You gave a quick look over your shoulder, half expecting Bucky to be lurking, a smirk plastered across his face. Nothing. Wanda looked past you towards when you had previously checked.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Rogers.” You scrambled your thoughts for a reply, not so much a ghost, how do you tell your best friend what just happened and sound normal? Of course, you trusted Wanda with more than you did Steve for the most part, you just hadn’t got your head around it yet.
“Sorry, it’s nothing to worry about,” You sighed, finally looking into your best friend's eyes, a concerned look on her face. “Just, a lot on my mind,” Raising your textbooks slightly to suggest that a lot on your mind was school work. Wanda stared at you with a questioning look, not buying it for a second.
Placing a hand on your shoulder, Wanda gave it a small squeeze letting you know that she was there for you. You had both formed a sort of unspoken secret language between only you two. The only other person who has a slight understanding of it is Peter Parker.
~
Peter was your next-door neighbor, he moved in when you both were little kids to live with Aunt and Uncle. You played together in each other’s garden, he was rare, he could play sports on the same level as Steve but also had your level of smarts. As you all grew up, Steve met new friends and went around town with them. So, it was just you and Peter left doing science experiments in the backyard.
It was great as kids, especially since your bedroom windows were opposite of each other. You both would stay up later than you should of, using a tin can phone you crafted together, helping each other study. Now, you both stay up late using your actual phones to help each other.
~
The rest of the day was a blur for you, consumed by the thoughts of him. You struggled to focus on your classes, you looked through textbooks and presentations, but, all you could see was that look on his face as he called you ‘Sunshine’. By the end of the school day, you were once again sat in the back seat of Steve’s car driving home. You knew you had to talk to someone about everything that was happening, someone with potentially some experience. Sharon. Your brother's long-term girlfriend, they had been in a relationship for as long as you could remember. Surely, she has experience.
“Hey Sharon,” Your voice uncertain as you watched Steve walking into the gas station to pay. “Can we talk?” Sharon glances back at you through the mirror on the passenger sun visor. “It’s about Bucky…”
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, her eyes fixed on you. “Bucky Barnes? What about him?” Her speech rushed as she tried to act like she knew nothing about Steve’s hatred towards him.
You took a deep breath and gathered your thoughts before speaking to the closest person to Steve about this. “I don’t know. There’s something about him that, I don’t know, makes me want to know.” You stopped for a moment to check on Steve’s location, still in a long line, waiting. You have time. “I can’t explain it, but, Steve has told me to stay away and that he doesn’t trust him.”
Sharon’s expression changed to a more sympathetic and understanding look, she closed the visor and twisted in the passenger seat to face you. “Follow your heart, sweetie. Only you can decide what’s right for you. Steve worries because he is a boy, he knows in his mind what boys can think and act like and he’s scared the worst with happen, but, he doesn’t own you or your actions. This is your story.”
At that moment, you had never been happier that Steve chose to be the nice guy for Sharon. You nodded back at her, you were still uncertain about a lot of things but as Sharon said, it’s your decision. Not Steve’s, yours.
- - -
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#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky fanfic#bucky x female reader#high school au#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x sister!reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers#bucky fic#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x rogers!reader#bucky barnes x you
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Hey I have a Dark Matt x reader smut request.
Matt comes back from patrol and relieves his stress with reader but is rough and reader has bruises everywhere the next day when he notices the bruises he has a guilty conscience.
hello love! thank you so much for the request! I hope this is close to what you were looking for. ❤️
warning: contains explicit sexual content, minors please dni.
word count: 1.9k
marks.
Dainty patches of violet and navy had begun to bloom on various patches of your skin. Along the column of your throat, down your arms, across your thighs. Matt’s fingerprints were embedded on your hips as if he’d stamped them with ink. You could even make out the perfect outline of his palm on your ass. He’d left various marks with his teeth on your collarbones, shoulders, and several across your neck, causing varying hues of maroon to rise to the surface. Last night had been…intense.
Roughness was not essentially new between you and Matt. Some nights when he came home from patrol, he was too amped up to even attempt to wind down. He only found calm in the release that you granted him with your body. Only after he channeled all that excess energy into bringing you both several rounds of pleasure was he finally spent enough to find peace in sleep beside you. You never really minded. Sometimes you even craved it. Making love to Matt Murdock, or even playful sex with him was one thing. But being fucked by the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen? That was a whole other realm of rapture. It made your heart swell with pride and excitement that you were his calm amongst the chaos; that you could subdue the devil with the portal to heaven between your thighs. But last night had been…different.
It started off normal. Matt slowly descended the stairs as he pulled off his gloves, a seductive smirk on his sinful lips as he took note of the way your heart rate increased with every step he took. You could tell by the look on his face what he wanted, and God if you weren’t ready to let him take it. Matt had been staying out extra late this past week, and you had missed him terribly. It had felt like an eternity since he’d last touched you. He wasted no time capturing your mouth, letting his hands roam all over the parts of you that weren’t covered by his shirt and then slipping them underneath to feel the rest of you. Everything seemed to be normal until he had you pinned beneath him on the mattress, and then it was like something inside him snapped.
Matt’s kisses became more rushed and forceful, almost bruising. He bit down on your bottom lip so hard, you swore he’d drawn blood and could taste the metallic tang on your tongue. His grip on your waist was rough, fingers digging into your flesh like blunt daggers. He had you completely trapped beneath his body, surrendered to his mercy, both of your hands imprisoned above your head in one of his as he fucked you at a brutal pace. The coarse growls that sounded in your ear sent shivers down your spine, but it was nothing compared to the feral look in his eyes. The normal golden honey had been eclipsed by onyx, and it felt like you were staring up at his devil mask rather than him. You couldn’t hardly recognize the face above you.
“Who’s pussy is this, huh? Who’s fucking pussy is this?”
“Y-yours.”
“Louder.”
“Yours…”
“Say it, louder.”
“Yours!”
Something about it felt off. You wanted to say something, but you couldn’t find your voice. He flipped you over without warning, and before you had a chance to feel the sting of his withdrawal, Matt was burying himself inside you to the hilt. He roughly shoved your face down into the pillows and set a brutal pace behind you. Your body jolted forward with every powerful snap of his hips, and every harsh slap of his palm against your ass. Matt reached forward and captured one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger, squeezing so hard it caused you to yelp.
“Ah..Matt!”
“That’s it, let everyone know who’s fucking you this good. Let everyone fucking know.”
Matt fucked you mercilessly, but you weren’t enjoying it like you normally did. Something didn’t feel right. It felt like he was mad at you for something, like he was punishing you for something you weren’t aware of. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his pace getting sloppy, the guttural grunts behind you letting you know he was close. Matt let out a loud, animalistic groan as he came and it made you shudder. Your legs gave out when he released your hips and you fell onto your side on the mattress, curling up into yourself. Matt panted as he laid beside you, resting his hand on your waist.
“Fuck…sorry, I couldn’t hold it. Give me a second and I’ll help you finish.”
“N-no, you don’t have to.”
“You sure? You didn’t-”
“It’s okay. I’m really tired. Let’s just go to bed.”
You felt Matt tense up behind you, and you wondered if he realized just how rough he’d been. He silently wrapped his arm tightly around your waist and pulled you back against his chest, nuzzling his face into your neck and pressing a soft kiss to your skin. All night you laid there in his embrace trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. If he was mad at you, why was he cuddling you? Wouldn’t he have said something? What would he even be mad about? What had you done? You racked your brain tirelessly for an answer, but nothing came to mind.
You could hear Matt cooking in the kitchen when you woke up. For a minute you thought maybe you had been wrong last night. Maybe you had read everything wrong. Maybe you were reading into things too much. But then you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Matt had certainly left marks on you before, but never anything like this. You nervously ran your fingers through your hair as you tried to figure out how to approach this. A light grasp on your arm had you flinching, and you turned just in time to catch the smile on Matt’s face drop into a pit of worry.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Matt sighed as he took a step closer, taking one of your hands into his.
“Sweetheart, don’t do that. You know I can tell when you’re lying.”
“I’m just…sore. That’s all.”
“Sweetheart-”
The hiss that escaped your mouth when Matt touched your shoulder had him freezing immediately. He tilted his head to the side slightly, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as his eyes darted blankly back and forth. Your heart started to race once you realized what he was doing.
“Matt-”
It was too late. His eyes widened in horror as he took in the state of your body. You sighed softly as you reached out to place your hand against his bare chest.
“It’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad? Y/N you’re covered in…fuck. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I’m okay, Matty. It doesn’t hurt-”
“Don’t lie to me. If it didn’t hurt, you wouldn’t flinch when I touch you.”
“It’s just sore, that’s all. I’m okay. I just-”
Matt tried to fixate his gaze where your eyes were, his chest rising and falling a little quicker as he waited for your response.
“Just what?”
“I…are you mad at me?”
Matt’s eyebrows rose to the center of his forehead, staring at you incredulously as a dry scoff escaped his mouth.
“Am I mad at you? Are you-why would you ask me that?”
“Because that’s what it felt like, Matt.”
Matt’s mouth hung open for a second as he studied you, taking a cautious step forward and lightly wrapping his arm around your waist.
“What do you mean?”
“Last night…it…it felt like you were mad at me for something.”
“What? No…no sweetheart, of course not. Why would I be mad at you?”
“I don’t know, that’s what I couldn’t figure out. You know I-I don’t mind when you’re…last night just…it felt different. I don’t know-I just…”
“Was it too much?”
You hated the somber look on Matt’s face right now. You hated the guilt you heard dripping from his voice.
“It was…just…not what I was expecting. I mean, did something happen? Were you upset about something? It didn’t seem like it when you came home…but I-I don’t know. Maybe I missed it.”
“You didn’t miss anything. Nothing happened. I wasn’t upset. I guess I…I lost control”.
Matt dropped his arm from around your waist and took a few steps backward, leaning against the bathroom counter as he nibbled at his bottom lip. He exhaled deeply as he rubbed his palms against his face.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to-”
“No. No, I-maybe I…maybe it was me. Maybe I…I don’t know. Maybe I thought I was in the mood for that, and I wasn’t.”
“I should’ve checked in with you first.”
“You did, Matty. I wanted to, okay? God I really wanted to. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why it felt different, it just…I don’t know.”
“I pushed you too far. It’s my fault. I should’ve paid more attention last night. I should’ve caught that…that it was too much. I should’ve realized when you told me you didn’t want me to-I’m sorry.”
You cupped Matt’s face in your hands and brought his head down to press your forehead against his, lightly stroking your thumbs along his cheek bones.
“Hey, I know you would never intentionally hurt me. I know that. Maybe you lost control, maybe I was in a weird headspace. I don’t know. But either way, I know that and I trust you. I love you, Matty. It’s okay.”
“I love you, Y/N. So much. I’m so sorry-”
“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I just…wasn’t sure what was happening.”
Matt sighed deeply as he gently wrapped his arms around your waist and held you against his chest.
“It won’t happen again. I promise.”
“Matty, I don’t mind when you leave marks. You know that.”
“Not like this. Not again.”
You shook your head slowly as you lightly trailed your thumb along Matt’s bottom lip.
“Matty, baby, I don’t mind them. Yes I’m a little sore, but that’s not why I was upset. I was worried I’d done something to upset you-”
“And that I took it out on you, like this. That doesn’t make me feel better.”
You sighed softly as you tilted your head back to look up at him, knowing this was a battle you were not winning anytime soon.
“We have got to do something about that Catholic guilt of yours.”
A faint smile appeared at the corner of Matt’s mouth, shaking his head slowly as he nudged your nose with his own.
“Good luck. No one’s found a cure for over two thousand years.”
“Hm. Well, I bet D doesn’t feel guilty about having his fun.”
“That’s because he’s kind of a dick.”
“But so much fun to play with.”
Matt arched one of his brows at your seductive tone, pushing lightly at your waist to put space between the two of you.
“No.”
“Aw c’mon, Matty-”
“Absolutely not. Come eat your breakfast.”
“But-”
“Do as I say, or I’m not letting him out to play again.”
“You don’t have that kind of self control.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised what I can commit to sweetheart.”
There was a taunting smirk on Matt’s lips and a flame of challenge flickering in his eyes. If there’s one thing Matthew Murdock was good at, it’s being fucking stubborn. You grumbled as you brushed past him, huffing as he chuckled deeply behind you.
“Good girl.”
#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x y/n#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x fem!reader#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock x female reader#matt murdock fic#matt murdock smut#matt murdock request#daredevil#daredevil fic#daredevil smut#daredevil request
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—a snack
SUMMARY | sometimes the only way to get the twins to shut up is to shove food in one of their mouths
PAIRING | tangerine x reader
REQUESTED | no
WARNINGS | spoilers for bullet train
WORD COUNT | 1k+
AUTHORS NOTES | tangerine has my heart and soul confirmed
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This was the third time in the past half hour that you had to deal with their bickering.
Normally, you loved the twins. Tagging along with them as the occasional third party on a particularly tricky mission was something you never grew tired of. Especially when it came to Lemon; he always had a self care pack for everyone ready—normally consisting of a snack and small trinkets tailored to your person—knowing that everyone performed their best in high spirits. It was one of the things you had come to look forward to on your trips with them. Alongside Tangerines ever present charm, although you'd never admit it. His ego was big enough already as is.
But sometimes even the most enjoyable of people could wear your patience thin. The most notable moment? Right fucking now.
"Aren't you two supposed to get along? Being brothers and business partners?" You finally snapped, turning your head away from the foggy window you had been staring at blankly ever since the two men across from you had begun bickering. Honestly you were surprised you had managed to hold out from saying anything this long. Sitting still and shutting up hadn't always been your strong suit in life.
"Oh yeah? Gettin along? Try bein his brother afta he's spent the past hour fuckin quizin you on a train show for kids!" Tangerine barked out, rolling his eyes in Lemons direction.
"You ain't exactly a delight either, bruv." Was all Lemon responded with. You could visibly see Tangerines jaw tense and the veins in his neck stand out, eliciting a hollow chuckle from you.
If you hadn't been contracted to the tiny and awfully scratchy seat of a fast-moving train, you would have already moved to the other room just to get away to the bickering. Maybe even enjoy a moment of silence or two. Sadly, that wasn't the case, and now you were stuck in economy class with two pissy englishmen practically breathing down your neck.
"That's it." You grumbled, unfortunately aware of the way both of them had gone back to ignoring you in favor of their argument.
"Hey, miss? Yeah, over here for a second please."
All it took was a well timed arrival of a snack cart, a few peices of yen, and an exchange of goods for you to get Tangerine to shut up.
The brits face contorted into one of suprise as you reached across the table in between you two to aggressively shove a peice of mochi in his mouth, temporarily unable to cuss his brother out for his reaction as Lemon began laughing. It was an unorthodox way to cut a conversation off sure, but at this point you really just didn't give a shit.
"Th f'ck 'as tha or!"
"Don't talk with your mouth full, you muppet."
Tangerine was quick to swallow the treat you'd so forcefully obliged him too before speaking again. The urge to snicker at the powder now lightly dusting his mustache was tempting but you held back. Barely.
"The fuck was that for!?" He was quick to snap.
"I needed you to shut up." You shrugged. Lemon was practically tearing up with laughter now. It almost made you want to shove another piece of mochi in Tangerines mouth just to see him double over with laughter, but you valued your life at the moment.
"You could have just fucken asked me!"
"Nah I seriously doubt it." Lemon chimed in for you, snorting occasionally. "Got a skull as thick as your ego mate."
"Cheers to that." You lifted your imaginary cup in Lemons direction as the cheep jab to Tangerine. Who at this point was resorting to a form of pouting.
"A big man baby. That's what I reckon you are." You managed to grin, only teasing now. "Lucky I love you so much, Tang. Otherwise I would have thrown you out the back of this train a few stops ago."
"Love me huh?" He was leaning forward now, no longer showing any signs of the small show he had been making earlier. Now his teeth were showing as he smiled smugly, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. Surely a look that he used to charm many people with in the past. And now it was being pointed your way. "Do tell me more, love."
Ignoring the way your mouth went dry at the nickname he so casually used, you scoffed.
"Don't read too much into it. I can always take it back."
"You wouldn't though." Tangerines grin was downright cheeky now. He had resorted to leaning back in his seat now, resting his hands behind his head confidently.
"Right. If you two are just gonna flirt I'm gonna trod off yeah?" Lemon sighed, making to leave. He preferred not to see the two of you pine over each right now. Maybe if he hurried he be able to check on the breifcase and catch a couple of episodes of Thomas in the bathroom on his phone.
"No you don't. Don't you even think of leaving me with this asshole." His arm was roughly grabbed by you and Lemon was shoved back down in his seat forcefully.
"Aw what happend to loving me?" Tangerine cooed with an outward jutt of his bottom lip. Your eyes lingered on it for a moment too long before snapping back up to his face, your own feeling slightly warm. You blamed it on the giant ass light hanging above you all, knowing full well that wasn't it.
"People change. Now shut up and eat the rest of that mochi I bought before I actually do kick you off this train."
"Whatever you say luv."
Sighing you turned to look back at the window next to you, refusing to look back at the assassin across from you.
Maybe falling in love on the job was going to be a bit more difficult to handle than you'd originally thought.
#bullet train x y/n#bullet train x you#bullet train x reader#bullet train#bullet train tangerine#bullet train 2022#tangerine x y/n#tangerine x you#tangerine x reader#tangerine#tangerine blurb#tangerine bullet train#x reader#one shot#lemon#fluff
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New year, New you
Author note; Learned a lot while writing this story and tried to copy JTTW writing style here or there
No warning on this on, bit of angst, comfort, and humor. Long fic.
Enjoy!
The air was brisk, and the road covered in beautiful white, blanketing the landscape and mountains in snow. All was quiet expect for the sound of crunching; footsteps and hooves leaving marks on the path behind them. The four pilgrims and their white horse on their years’ long journey to the west, each special in their own right and memorable. All expect for one, the often forgotten white dragon horse.
Bailong, dragon prince and third son of the Dragon king of the west sea, huffs and puffs white clouds against the cold air. Keeping his golden eyes forward with the holy Tang Monk on his back. Another year is closing for a new to arise and yet the melancholy refuse to shake off like fleas or ticks. Instead, it burrows deep within and rise memories, one Bailong wishes to forget.
It will be the year of the dragon for the new year, one his family back in the western sea exclusively celebrated and no other zodiac. Sadly for Bailong, the rarely celebrated new years he always missed, his family never waited for him and even forgotten him among the festive celebration. This left him feeling hollow inside and with other emotions swimming within him. In the beginning, it was an overwhelming sadness that was drowning him, then resentment made way like an ocean wave in a storm, before settling in the sands of acceptance beneath waves, forgotten and never seen. He huffs again and shakes the thoughts away.
“Master, the path is becoming difficult. Let us stop at the nearest town and rest. At least until the roads are cleared.” A voice, like that of bells chimes during prayer, a familiar hand brushes against Bailong’s white furry neck. His eyes drift down to the fearsome thunder god, Pilgrim Sun, an infamous being with many names and titles, but best known as his elder brother, Sun Wukong. Sun Wukong study him carefully with his fiery eyes before smiling. “Besides, I think our young dragon horse might’ve fall under the weather.” Wukong tease deftly dodges a bite from Bailong sharp fangs, his laughter echoing in the mountains.
“Wukong,” a warm, but firm voice spoke up above Bailong. “I’ll take your advice, but refrain from teasing.” A delicate hand reaches out, the fingers comb through his fur. The owner of the hand can be no other than the holy Tang Monk. The one who started the journey to complete his quest. Tensions wash off of Bailong and briefly close his closing his eyes. The holy monk knew the best spots. “When is the closest village?” Sanzang asks.
“Yes, big brother! Use your nimbus to scout ahead.” Zhu Bajie pipe in, kicking up snow as he trudges up. Sha Wujing measly catch up behind Zhu Bajie, bits of frost covering the tips of his red beard. The pig and water demon turned disciples, each one with their own names and past, join the other three. “Little brother is freezing and see! His fiery beard is turning blue like his skin!”
“Do not worry about me my brothers, bits of frost nor snow won’t stop me in completing our quest.” Sha Wujing reply with a hum, keeping the rear and smiling gently to the others.
“You say that little brother, but old monkey can hear your teeth chattering from here.”
“Yes, and you’re losing your hue, my disciple.”
“Wukong, hurry up! Find a shelter soon or Sha Wujing will turn into an ice block!”
“Idiot, little brother would be more of an ice boulder than a block.” Wukong said, with more insults ready to throw at Zhu Bajie.
“Please stop bickering, you two! Sun Wukong, please go forth and look for everyone’s sakes.” Sanzang said, stopping them before they truly start.
“Of course, master.” Sun Wukong and Zhu Bajie said in union with heads bowing. Bailong huff at the usual display, a normal occurrence and always lively compare to his quiet palace home. His heart feels warm at the concern, even light-heartedly, at the youngest disciple. Even Wukong’s teasing at him as well, far different from his home.
He idly listens to the group’s conversation and suppresses a laugh when Sanzang offers some of his outwear to warm Sha Wujing up; only for the three disciples to dog pile on him with their own winter clothes and becoming a fabric lump with a tiger skin skirt on top. Bailong won’t complain about the added weight, all part of his atonement and added benefit. He watches as the eldest brother somersault onto his cloud and speed ahead. Nothing more than the spec in the sky in a matter of seconds.
Things soon return to the tranquil quiet as before, with sounds of foot and hooves crushing snow in the white landscape. The thoughts of his family far gone from Bailong’s mind, the group continues on with light snow fall until only an hour later Pilgrim Sun returns with news. Bailong didn’t pay no mind to it, only the important bit; the nearest village is only a few hours away and Pilgrim Sun already establish a lodging for them all. An empty home they can all stay for with food provided. He tune out Zhu Bajie as he starts the normal hungry complaints and the distance. Or when the two oldest brothers go at it again and Sanzang muffles a sigh under the pile. Sha Wujing smiles through his chattering teeth, always keeping up in the rear and never complaining. Together, the monk and his disciples travel to their destination, with the eldest leading the way.
True to Sun Wukong’s word, the party arrives just a few hours with a small home fit for a family of five. “I didn’t realize it was of the new years already. It’s nice of the locals to have our lodge decorated for the occasion.” Sha Wujing said, stepping towards to the door, using his transformation to shrink down to the size of an average man. “Though it’s a shame there isn’t any bamboo for us to burn, I always did enjoy hearing the crackles during this time of year.”
“Maybe there will be plenty of food then.” Zhu Bajie reply, rushing forward and doing the same as Sha Wujing, almost matching his height. “A nice hot meal will be nice to shake off the bitter cold! Better yet, a feast!” Zhu Bajie said with excitement, passing the youngest brother and first through the door into the house with Sha Wujing behind him.
Wukong quietly watches his two brothers before he leads Bailong to the stables with a now sleeping Tang monk softly snoring on top of him. “Little Bailong,..” Bailong always hated that, he’s not that young, “…come inside with Master and old monkey. It’s much too cold for you to be out here.” Speaking in a hush tone, Wukong grows into size enough to grab the bundles of fabrics that is his master. He carries the monk like a parent does with a sleeping child. Sanzang’s red nose was the only thing peeking out. Wukong chuckles as the dragon horse, the extra warm gone and now left his body shivering, “See, come with me and I’ll prepare tea for you and Master.” Titling his head to the side, he studies Bailong’s state; flakes and dull skin, even his eyes lost their shine. “Ah, even as a horse you still molt, old Sun shall draw you a bath. Let me bring Master into our lodging and I’ll come back for you.” Bailong bobs his head in reply, watching the two leave. The cold seeps into his bones and feels of constriction of his skin with an itch that won’t go away. A wooden beam stands only a few steps away from him with ever-growing temptation, soon the satisfaction of the coarse wood against his hide. He sighs, his thoughts of his family back at the forefront of his mind, along with hollowness. Perhaps this year they’ll send a letter or even wishes or gifts. Anything to remind him he’s still family. His ears perk at the distance sound of chatter coming from the house.
Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing stood in the kitchen discussing among themselves of tonight’s feast and the rooms they briefly explore. A main room where everyone can eat, one with a tub for washing, a kitchen, and two for sleeping or storage. The sound of a door opens and closes draws their attention. Peeking out, they see their oldest brother carrying their master. Their eyes on him as he disappears into the bathroom and shortly coming out, then in another room where the two store everyone’s luggage and out again. At this is when Sha Wujing spoke up. “Brother, the sleeping quarters are down the hall at the end.”
“Ha! Fool getting lost in a small home, is that the reason you bother everyone in heaven because you couldn’t find your way?” Zhu Bajie laughs, his belly shaking and wiping a tear. His laughter doubles and clutching his gut when Sun Wukong glares at him.
“Quiet Idiot! Are you trying to wake Master?” Sun Wukong whispers harshly with narrow fiery eyes, briefly glances at the sleeping monk. “And I see you haven’t gained more weight yet. Why don’t you make yourself useful and cook for us tonight.”
“I don’t know, perhaps you should, Mother Sun.” Zhu Bajie replies, grinning when Sha Wujing covers his mouth and looking away, his shoulders shaking.
“I guess you make a poor husband who can’t cook. Old monkey can see why your wife and in-laws wanted you gone.” Wukong smiles, smug when Idiot’s ears flaps and his face turn red like Sha Wujing beard. At this, the youngest brother couldn’t contain his joyful laughter, using the wooden beams to support himself.
“I’ll show you! I’ll make the finest dish that you’ll offer any daughters to marry me and honor me as your son-in-law!” Zhu Bajie declares and return to the kitchen. Wukong proudly watches and sees Idiot’s outstretch hand grabbing Sha Wujing. The youngest brother yelps when he’s yank in with barks of orders. Sun Wukong shakes his head with a smile, carrying the Tang Monk down the hall and gently laying him on the bed. Even tucking the monk before leaving.
“It’s amazing master slept through all that. Old monkey thought he’ll wake from Idiot’s blubbering and little brother’s laughing.” Walking back towards the kitchen, the sound of chopping and bickering reaching his ears. He steps closer and listens.
“Little brother! You’re chopping that wrong! Are you trying to feed rabbits like that? You’ll make a poor husband.”
“I don’t want to be a husband. I want to be a monk, big brother.” Sha Wujing mumbles, pricking his fingers for the third time.
“And you’re bleeding again! You want the master to break his vows? Go clean your wound again and tend to the fire.” the second brother ordered with his back turned.
“I see why your marriage failed.” the youngest brother mumbles
“Hmm!? What did you say?” Zhu Bajie whips his head at Sha Wujing’s direction.
“Nothing big brother! Must have been the wood crackling.” Sha Wujing reply sweetly.
Sun Wukong silently chuckles behind his hand, leaving his two brothers as the cold hits his golden fur. Chills burrow into his bones, the thick snow falling now and some landing on him. He admires the beauty of nature for only a moment before he trudges over to the stables. The sight of the youngest member of the group rubbing his side on the old wooden support beam, tilting dangerously. “Stop! Stop! Let Monkey help you before that beam collapses on us both…. I said, hold still!” Sun Wukong shouts, both hands on Bailong and a tail around the beam. He nods to himself, patting Bailong’s stomach. “Quite impatient today, young Bailong”
At this, Bailong shifts into a more humanoid appearance, with antler like horns and teal hair. His features resembles of that a boy on the cusp of adulthood. “Don’t call me that!” His voice cracks just like his skin.
“And moody too. Is it has becau-“
“That it’s the year of the dragon and my family hasn’t sent word or wishes. Treating me as if I don’t exist, as always.” Bailong turns his back to Wukong with arms crossed. His emotions swirl like a whirlpool inside, ready to burst.
“I thought it was the year of the monkey.” Wukong said, stepping closer to the young boy on the cusp of adulthood. Frowning at the poor condition he’s in from his molt and the sudden outburst.
“You say it’s the monkey’s year, every year.” Bailong said flatly as he spun back around, his eyes firmly on the spec of snow beneath him.
“Well, Idiot fell for it during the year of the pig, but I suppose it’s the dragon’s year, if you say so. As for your family…” Wukong reaches up to his ear, “…do you want Old Sun to pay them a vis-“
“No! I just….” Bailong when he interrupts a second time, but he continues. “…I just never spent new years with them, I just…” He sighs, his shoulders sagging. He was a dutiful son and never voiced or went against his family’s wishes until his mishap almost got him executed. If it wasn’t for this journey, he shivers at the thought. “I.. I just want to know that my family cares for me…” A part of him misses home, the luxury and the comforts. However, the other side of him loved seeing a world he’ll never get to see behind his watery palace or the people he met along the way. Did he truly misses his family or is he telling himself that? Familial loyalties can be the strongest and yet it was his father who sent him to the heavenly courts and his execution. Even in the years he travels with the monks, not once did his family reach out or seek him out. His eyes water as his thoughts swarm around him, intrusive and hostile, like the old and inhospitable world.
Until powerful arms wrap around him, protecting him and dashing his train of thought. Bailong buries his face against Wukong’s chest and staining his robes. Tears now flowing freely as he feels a hand rub against his back gently. No one exchanges words, and Bailong doesn’t mind or care as he quietly weeps. Only feeling Wukong lifting and carrying him like he did with the holy monk; the cold snow before the warmth of inside. His ears perking as the other brothers bickering and then laughing in the other room. Wukong carried him further into the home, the joyful sounds fading away.
A door opens and closes, the room far more humid compare to the main room and hallway. The moisture in the air doing wonders for his flaky skin. Bailong lifts his head from Wukong’s chest to see a bath ready with all the essentials. In the corner of his blurry vision, he spots what could only be a clone making final preparations and setting new clothes for after his bath.
Bailong didn’t have the chance to think more of where the clothes came from or if it was even his, when his feet dip into the steaming waters. His mind was blank and his body moved on its own. Quickly stripping away garments and diving into the waters. Splashing and spilling over, Wukong can be overheard grumbling about being wet and something else. It didn’t take long to feel the heat to soak into him and, like a weighted blanket, ease him into a peaceful sleep.
Sun Wukong watches all of this with annoyance and amusement, shaking the water off his fur and wringing his soggy robes. A plan forms in his mind as he glance at Bailong, closing his eyes and drifting off. Wukong sighs. He’ll have to leave the young man alone for his plan to work, but he wants to ensure that Bailong is up when dinner is ready or when Master is awake. He leaves and walks towards the kitchen, knowing the only ones still awake can help him.
“Little brother, how on earth or heaven did you survive on your own like this?” Bajie ask in astonishment, wrapping Wujing’s bleeding finger in cloth.
“I only know how to pickle and pickled anything that came to my river and eat when it was necessary. I’m not a cook like you,” Wujing said with his head hanging low.
“Please forgive your big brother. I got blinded by my attempt to prove to our eldest that you needed help.
Sha Wujing clasps Zhu Bajie’s shoulder and smiles. “Then please enlighten me on the ways of cooking, so that I can be an excellent monk.”
“You mean husband?” Zhu Bajie teasingly asked with a smile.
“No, I think he meant monk, Idiot.” Wukong said, standing in the doorway. Firey eyes wrinkling when the two jump and nearly hit each other. “I need to leave and gather supplies for tonight. Our dragon horse is dispirited- “he pauses as the two gasp and talk among themselves over poor Bailong. Wukong clears his throat and continues talking. “He’s soaking in the bathroom. Bring him out once dinner is ready. I’m-”
“Perhaps we should cook some of his favorites.” Bajie said, a hand under his chin with his eyes close.
“Maybe we can further decorate the home and I can gather bamboo. I remember seeing some on the way here.” Sha Wujing suggests. His eyes focus on the window.
“Brother, what do you think?” Zhu Bajie asks their eldest brother, “And the ugly bastard gone.” He grumbles at the empty spot Pilgrim Sun was in. Zhu Bajie asks their eldest brother, "Brother, what do you think? And the ugly bastard has disappeared." He grumbles at the empty spot Pilgrim Sun was in.
The two concluded on a plan without the eldest and went their separate ways, each completing tasks with intensity. Bajie cooked all meals the young dragon horse mentions over the years on the road. Add flavors and spices to Bailong’s personally loved. His mouth waters and his snout twitches as each of the dishes he set at the table, but he’ll abstain until he sees the delight on Bailong’s face. Bajie admires the handy work of Wujing’s decoration.
The villagers have set some up to make them as a welcome gift. One they were certainly grateful for, though Wujing took it further by writing scrolls and handing fabrics. Bajie’s ears twitch at the sound of the door and footsteps. He spots Wujing with bundles of bamboo under his arms and snow mix with his hair. “Once you set those down, please wake and retrieve our master and Bailong. I’ll set the final preparations and ensure everything is ready.” Bajie said, he watches as his little brother nods and disappears further into the house.
It doesn’t take long for Sha Wujing to return with tears in his eyes and something shrivels in his arms. Bajie feels his heart stop at the sight. “Zhu Bajie! Brother!” Wujing’s voice is loud as it echoes off the walls. Bajie rushes over to him. “It’s Bailong! He’s…he’s” Wujing wobbles, his body shaking and his breathing shallow. Bajie gasps, finally getting a better look before he, too, sob over what was once was Bailong. In Sha Wujing’s arms lies a husk, shell and translucent of Bailong’s body. Still warm and droplets dripping from his hands with tears landing on his frail body. Sha Wujing and Zhu Bajie collapses, each with arms wrap around the other.
“Why are you two crying? Did something happen?” Sun Wukong asks, his eyes searches for the source of the cause for his younger brothers’ sorrows.
“Brother! Bailong, he’s…he’s” Sha Wujing wiggle away from Zhu Bajie to show the eldest disciple of what has become Bailong.
“That’s what you two were crying about? Just toss it and wak-“
“How could you?!”
“You rotten ugly bastard!”
“Disciples, why all the shouting at this hour and right before supper?” All eyes whip towards Tripitaka, rubbing his eyes and holding hands with a yawning Bailong. Who’s skin and hair shine brightly against the lights, his features closer to that of a young man, but with a hint of boyishness still lingers.
The second and third disciples cried again, practically tackles the monk and dragon into a hug. Once free from two burly men’s hugs; Bailong explains he sheds his skin every few years. His shedding always landed on the New Year, the year of the dragon, to be exact. The sea cold waters made it grueling process overall. However, this time it was easier on Bailong’s body thanks to the hot bath Sun Wukong prep for him. Wukong’s chest puffed up and smug with such praise.
“You ape! Why didn’t you say anything before?! Sha Wujing and I wouldn’t have to bawl our eyes out if you told us!”
“I would’ve if you kept your mouth shut and allowed me to speak. Not old monkey’s fault you lack manners.” Sun Wukong said matter-of-factly.
“You!”
Tripitaka sighs as moves himself over to the table, Bailong joining him while Sha Wujing set the table and the dishes. Soon he joins the other two as they help themselves to the food and watch the daily entertainment of the two older disciples argue like a comedic skit during a play. A dinner and a show, an array of flavors and non stop snickering laughter as Sun Wukong and Zhu Bajie go at it. It took some time for both the disciples to tire themselves out before joining the others.
Bailong soon enough became the focus of attention from the other men. Zhu Bajie asking his thoughts on the dishes, many he recognizes as his favorites from his home, but more importantly from the travels with everyone. Each bite brings memories of the places they stop at and the stories it holds.
However, Bailong didn’t have the chance to answer the second disciple before the third was asking him about the decorations. His golden eyes wander the room, his cheeks puffy with food. The deep color of red littering the room with mixtures of yellow, none quite matching with the red. It’s nothing to compare to the one back at the western sea palace. However, despite that, everything felt warm to him, like when he was in the bath or when Tripitaka scooted over to allow him under the covers for a nap.
Finally, his eyes landing on the bamboo and his eyebrows raise, that was something his family definitely didn’t partake. He heard about burning bamboo to get it to crack and crackle. Even seen and heard it from a distance during the journey, but to partake in it? This was something he couldn’t contain his excitement, nearly bouncing in his chair and scarfing down the food.
“If you’re excited over burning bamboo, then Old Monkey has something even better.” Now this got everyone’s attention and eyes on Pilgrim Sun. Which leads to everyone with the same thought. Where did the oldest disciple run off to? “Old Monkey remembered an old acquaintance and pay them a visit. Kind enough to gift me a newly made invention! One that can light up the sky.”
“You mean you stole it.” Zhu Bajie said between bites, smugly when he sees the familiar frown etch on Sun Wukong’s face.
“No, Idiot, I did not steal it. I did a favor of exchange for it and it will make our new years a memorable one.”
“How long will we have to wait?” Bailong spoke up, hands on the table and leaning over. “Can we see it now? After dinner?” his voice was louder with a wide smile.
“After dinner.” Tripitaka announces, “After dinner and we’ll see what Pilgrim Sun brought.” Calmly declare with poise and elegance as he ate his food at a faster pace than he usually does. Although no one paid much mind as the rest soon clear off the rest of the dishes.
With much haste, everyone finishes dinner and rush out the door. Pushing the eldest disciple out first with unrestrained glee. “What happens to the men and who replaces them with children?” Sun Wukong laughs, making himself a little heavier. Let them work for it if only a little.
Outside in the brisk air, the group stands off by the entrance as Sun Wukong stands a respectful distance away with an object in his hand. A quick light and a good throw, the object soar high into the night air. With bated breath, everyone stares at the sky and waits.
“Nothing happ- “Bailong’s words die in his throat as the once darken sky soon turns into an explosion of colors with a thundering boom. He and the others feel it in their bones, but no one dare move as they watch vibrant colors spread across the sky before fading back into the darkness. This was nothing he could have imagined witnessing in all his life, nor does he ever wish to forget. Bailong spends the rest of the night among his fellow traveling companions, his family, celebrating the new years together. Until a heavenly official arrives about a noise complaint.
#sun wukong#journey to the west#jttw#xiyouji#bai longma#tripitaka#zhu bajie#sha wujing#long fic#please dont ask how long this took out of me#wrote this for a contest in my jttw discord server
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Chapter 5
kyoko time kyoko time
SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY
Some pre-chapter notes:
Byakuya and Kyoko immediate antagonism GO
They just keep walking circles around each other going. 'Suspicious...' "You're suspicious. I'm normal."
Istg I'm gonna figure out how to work Togiri into this. I swear for my Tonaegiri heart I will
Content warning tags: non-graphic description of death and bodies, canon deaths (sorry Sayaka and Leon)
< previous - from start - next >
Sayaka Maizono is dead.
Byakuya finds he's not incredibly surprised. She was the most desperate, after all, and incredibly resourceful and cunning. It made sense that she would try escaping first, at the expense of everyone else's lives. It was the sort of thing he might respect in a rival, the will to put everything on the line for the sake of an ambition.
But there was very little respect now that she was gone. Her body, slumped in the shower and dyed with the brightness of blood, was nothing more than an ugly smear against the gray tile. The sickly, metallic tang of her blood turned his stomach. She had died in Naegi’s dorm, of all places, and it left the boy shocked, and he had apparently fainted dead away at the sight. Hagakure had carried him away to the gymnasium, and now Enoshima was stiffly herding all the others in the same direction.
He leaves the room, breathing shallowly to avoid the smell, and nearly collides with Kirigiri. The mystery student.
“Excuse me.” Her voice was nigh emotionless, and he suspected her face was the same. She tries to sidestep him, and he refuses to move.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He had stopped by the room after Naegi had taken a ridiculous amount of time to return, and found the door ajar and the boy slumped, and the body. Ishimondo had joined him shortly, and after a short bout of terrified screams, general panic, and one extremely-pleased-sounding announcement over the intercoms, they were now being urged into one place. Kirigiri was no exception to this.
“I want to take a look at the scene,” She replies bluntly. “Before anyone can tamper with it.”
“I doubt that the Mastermind would let that happen.” He counters. “From what we can tell, he’s established this as a game, and I doubt he’d go so far as to purposely interfere with the rules of it just yet.” No matter how deranged or despicable their circumstances were, the one behind this all was clearly a lunatic. And lunatics, especially capable ones, tended to follow their own set of rules strictly, even while disregarding everything else.
“You sound quite certain of that.” Her voice is as neutral as ever, but the words sound almost accusatory. He fixes her with a glare.
“And you sound quite certain that you will be unscathed after disobeying the Mastermind’s clear orders.” He retorts dryly. If she plans to implicate him in anything, he can do the same to her. “Shall we go?”
He holds his arm out in a mockery of a polite gesture, offering to lead her away. She ignores it, as he expects, and instead turns around on her heel and walks out, following the others. He closes the front door quietly as he leaves, and stays a foot behind them, eyes fixed on the swaying white blot of her hair.
Everything proceeds roughly how he could expect it to.
Upon waking up, Naegi was bombarded with questions and accusations, all of which he fumbled through desperately. He sounded distraught, and at some points, close to tears; even when Byakuya calmly pointed out that it would be a stupid decision for a killer to commit a murder in his own room, and then do nothing about clearly visible evidence afterwards, he was still despondent, and others were still suspicious.
What Byakuya hadn’t expected was the death of Junko Enoshima. Apparently, the world-famous gyaru couldn’t stand one more second being told what to do, and was then impaled by Monokuma’s order. Her body was left in the center of the room, covered by a tarp that Monokuma tossed carelessly over her. From what he could tell, she had seemed so in control before, piercing voice loud and brazen, but always trying to get along with the others. The sudden outburst wasn’t entirely out of character, but was surprising.
Whatever the case, there were more pressing matters at hand. As Monokuma so helpfully reminded them, they needed to discover the real culprit behind the murder, so as to avoid a mass execution. Ogami and Owada volunteered to guard the scene, and some of the others were currently wandering, scouring the halls for evidence and clues. Naegi stops Byakuya before heading to his room, catching him alone in the hallway.
“I’m going to go investigate,” He says immediately, his fingers pinching on the edge of Byakuya’s jacket sleeve.
“...And?” Byakuya jerks his arm away, irritated. “So go.”
“I just thought, I should let you know, since I won’t be able to-”
“I wasn’t expecting you to do anything for me. Not when you’re currently suspect number one.” He glances around, for any bystanders who might notice. “I won’t be able to help you anyways, so there’s no point in sticking near me. Go do what you need to.”
“But-”
Byakuya just barely refrains from rolling his eyes. “Stop clinging to me. It’s annoying.” He snaps. “You won’t be of any use if you die, and our deal will be forfeit. Is that what you want?”
That seems to do the trick. Naegi shrinks away. “I was just-never mind. Thanks, Byakuya.” And he scurries off.
As odd as ever. But he did make for a surprisingly courteous servant, thanking Byakuya for permission to tend to other matters. Byakuya debates for a moment on what to do with his time; he didn’t feel entirely at ease leaving the case entirely in the hands of others, but there was also little he could do, realistically.
Byakuya turns the corner, with the intention of getting some food at least, before he suddenly finds himself face to face with Kirigiri again.
“...What do you want.” He glares at her, to no response, as expected. Kirigiri put him off, even more so than Naegi. Her intentions were entirely unclear.
“Are you going to investigate?” She asks instead. He blinks, surprised. He’d been expecting her to call him out on the strange, hurried interaction he’d just had with Naegi; he wouldn’t put it past her to eavesdrop.
“No.” He responds before he can rethink the answer, but then decides it would be better this way. Better not to lie and then have to try and save face during the trial, when he didn’t have any real input to share. “If you’ll excuse me-”
He moves to step around her, only to find her blocking his way again. He fights down a flare of irritation. “What.”
“Why?” Her voice gives away nothing, but her head tilts slightly. He frowns, and she clarifies. “Why aren’t you going to investigate?”
“Why should I?”
“I thought you would be more interested,” She turns, scanning the hallways. A few people are in the hallway of the dorm rooms, though none seem particularly interested in them. Her voice drops anyways. “After all, it involves Makoto.”
He feels a cold chill run up his back, and he grits his teeth. “Why should that matter to me?” He crosses his arms. “We have no relation.”
“Don’t you? You were quick to defend him earlier.” How did she notice that? He hadn’t been intending to appear as Naegi’s supporter, only as someone laying down logic and rationale amidst a crowd of fools. “And a little earlier. When the two of you were alone-”
“Enough.” He says sharply. Thankfully, none of the others around seemed to notice nor care. “Whatever you are assuming, I assure you, you are entirely wrong. I have my own reasons not to involve myself with this trial.”
“Hm. I see.” He moves to step around her, and she lets him, finally. He makes it a full meter away before he hears: “I didn’t realize the Togami heir would be uninterested in such things.”
It sounds like a challenge, and for a moment Byakuya almost snaps at it. There was nothing he, a Togami, could not do - and anything that he could not do meant that he was not a Togami.
But he bites the inside of his cheek and forces himself to calm, turning to face her. He was too on edge, getting too easily riled up by such petty words. “My interests are above your understanding,” He replies, words clipped and cold. “And solving such a petty murder is below me.”
“You act like you’ve already solved it.” Kirigiri muses. The implications of her words ring silently.
“I don’t need to solve it. It’s clear it was done out of desperation. The culprit was bound to have left enough evidence to implicate themself, even without my assistance.” He raises a challenging eyebrow. “Is there a reason why you would rather waste my time, rather than assisting with the investigation? I thought you were so eager to begin earlier, but here you are now.”
If she was going to make baseless allegations towards him, then he could do the same. Blind or not, he would not be unmatched in a verbal spar. He can’t hear anyone around them, and wonders if they had all cleared off, or were watching silently.
Kirigiri doesn’t respond, and instead steps towards him. For a moment he wonders if she’s about to lunge, and belatedly realizes he can’t see her face, or read her expressions at all. He has no idea if she was angry or not, or if she was the kind of person to be easily set off by that anger - he would assume not, but he had already been surprised earlier that day by Enoshima’s sudden and tragic outburst - and he takes a step back, suddenly wary.
But all she does is brush past him in the direction of Naegi’s room. And he watches her until the door closes behind her. Only then, does he let himself breathe.
The trial finds Leon Kuwata, Ultimate Baseball Player, guilty of the murder.
Byakuya watches the screaming boy be dragged off, and listens to the desperate scratch of his nails against the collar on his neck and the squeak of his sneakers against the floor as he’s pulled away. He watches a blur of white projectiles fly around Kuwata’s body like a blizzard, the haphazard sprays of blood, and then the limp, broken corpse that’s left behind after the onslaught, dangling limply from the pole.
He won’t ever say he’s grateful for the appalling state of his vision. But at this moment, he does feel somewhat relieved to have been spared the uglier details. Kuwata’s screams had been so visceral and loud.
Naegi is frenzied with rage and grief. He had lunged at Monokuma, only narrowly held back by Kirigiri, and the bear had only laughed hysterically at it all. The other students were in various states of shock and horror, and more than one of them was sobbing from fear. Byakuya stood amidst it all, observing quietly.
“It seems like Mr. Affluent wasn’t impressed!” Monokuma hums, seemingly materializing next to him. “Are my executions not to your level, hmm?”
“I can’t imagine anyone would be impressed by such vulgar displays.” He replies stiffly. He watches Kirigiri pull Naegi to the side, talking to him. One hand placed on the boy’s shoulder, as if in comfort. Were they discussing Maizono? The execution? Byakuya himself?
“Hm? Not paying attention to your Headmaster? That’s noooo good!” Monokuma wheedles, and Byakuya scoffs. It wasn’t like there was a rule against it, and there wasn’t any point in acknowledging the stupid bear. “Hey, hey, heeyy! Blech, you’re no fun. What are you looking at that’s so interesting?”
“...Nothing.” He turns away, and begins walking towards the exit. “The execution is over. Can we leave?”
“Puhuhu, in quite the rush, aren’t you? Doesn’t your heart stir just a bit for your lost comrades?” Monokuma snickers, and though Byakuya had first thought Owada and Enoshima foolish for trying to physically provoke the little robot, he now found himself tempted to punt the thing. “Fiiine, then! Go ahead and wait for your classmates in the elevator, if you’re in such a hurry. But it won’t start moving until everyone’s on! …Well, almost everyone, puhu!”
He walks past a few of the others. Fujisaki is particularly distraught, being comforted by Asahina and Ogami. Owada is uttering a stream of curses under his breath, and Ishimondo, for once, isn’t reprimanding him for it, instead standing in rapt horror. Fukawa - he scans the courtroom, and then spies a dark purple shape in the edge of his periphery - is behind him, plodding along almost silently, and she jerks to attention when she sees him noticing her. “Um, I…”
He turns back around and continues walking, ignoring her. Kirigiri was guiding Naegi back to the elevator. The other man seemed to still be stunned by everything that had just happened.
“...You seem unaffected.” Kirigiri says, and it takes a moment to realize she’s addressing him. Byakuya scoffs.
“How funny of you to notice. Monokuma said the same thing.” He deadpans. Their other classmates are still straggling over, helping each other towards the elevator. “I’ve seen worse things. I’m not sure what your excuse is.”
“It’s probably similar to yours.” His eyes dart to her, but she is as indecipherable as ever to him. He wonders if she was more articulate than she sounds.
He doesn’t bother uttering another word, as the rest of the class files in and the elevator shakes to a start.
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Dusk til Dawn
Part 13
Summary: Following Episode 9. And spoilers for Episode 10.
Author’s note: As Episode 10 is just released I just want to say heads up for those who are not yet finished. Completing the game without spoilers really made a difference, and as much as possible I want everyone to experience that. And for those finished, I’ll gladly welcome you to my domain where MC took a different route.
Disclaimer: I do not own Duskwood or any of the related characters. Duskwood is created by and owned by Everbyte Studio. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Duskwood story belong to Everbyte Studio.
Warning: Mentions of blood, suicide, violence, pedophiles, drugs, gun, murder, sex offenders, kidnapping
Shits started to go down the moment those words left your mouth. What did you expect anyway? You had unintentionally hit a raw nerve. Ted had poured his heart and soul reminiscing that night, and yet you have the audacity to laugh at his misery.
You didn’t really mean to laugh, really. Laughter sometimes escapes us in moments of intense emotion, not because we find something funny, but as a release valve for relief.
It was a relief that Hannah and Richy may not go to jail after all these. Because Ted had already admitted that he pushed Jennifer on the road, thus the crime committed wasn’t actually done by them.
You understood Ted's suffering. Under different circumstances, in a life where you weren't bound by the law, you might have reacted similarly if Jill's death had gone unpunished. Your empathy for Ted's situation ran deep. Yet, you were starkly aware of the reality you existed in—one that demanded adherence to the law, no matter how difficult it might be. They may call you a hypocrite all they want, but your top priority right now is to keep everyone safe.
Ted also needs help, psychiatrically speaking.
You’re not entirely sure, but you can see bits of physiological manifestations of his mental illness. His mental instability could be a potentially dangerous weapon against you all. The unpredictability of his actions was a looming threat. That’s why you need to pin him down— fast.
Something in your demeanor must have given Jake a signal because suddenly, his resistance flared to life. With a swift bite and a kick to Ted's shin, he managed to create enough space to scramble away, taking Richy along.
A stifled laugh threatened to escape you— it was a desperate attempt on Jake’s end, and you didn’t quite envision it before that Jake would have the guts to bite someone’s hand.
The small trickle of blood at the corner of Jake's mouth was evidence of the pain he had inflicted. Ted's angry growls confirm that he’s not pleased with what Jake has done.
So, with Jake out of the way, you launched yourself at Ted without hesitation. The revolver in his hand had just gone off, a deafening bang that temporarily left your ears ringing. But your focus was unwavering, and you met Ted's attempt to regain control with a swift move to disarm him. You managed to deflect his aim, causing the bullet to miss its mark. The metallic tang of adrenaline filled your senses as you grappled with him, determined to subdue the threat he posed.
The dimmed surroundings gave you the disadvantage not to mention the addition of fighting a full-grown man. In the midst of grasping for dear life in his hands and the gun, you caught a glimpse of Hannah, Jake, and Richy. Jake had positioned himself protectively in front of Hannah and Richy. It seemed Hannah was too overwhelmed with the current events to notice that her brother was just in front of her.
"Jake, help Y/n!" Richy rasped out behind Jake when he saw how dangerously close the gun was to your abdomen. That made you shoot back to the horrible reality.
Hannah froze at the mention of Jake’s name.
Usually, under normal circumstances, it would be best to outnumber the culprit but given Richy’s relative lack of experience in fighting, he might be shot first before you. He’s also injured. Jake is also injured, and even if he may have experience in fighting, his concussion will only slow him down. As of now, you're the best chance you've got, and you pray to the deities above that you no longer believed in long ago that they'll be able to help with the slimming luck you only have.
“Jake, no!” You shouted as you saw Jake try to move towards you. “You have to go NOW! Don’t come near me!”
“B-but—”
“Just do it!”
Ted's chuckle cut through the tension. “You think I would let anyone leave this mine?” Ted chuckled darkly as he leaned closely on your face, his breath chilling against your skin. His whispered words hung heavy in the air. “I just told you. No one will ever leave this mine alive.”
“As if I'd let that happen,” you snapped back, focusing on prying the gun from his grip.
Your priority right now is to disarm him. You can’t take the risk of having him fire it on anyone.
You suspected Alan had already called for backup at the entrance by the Grimrock. It is a matter of choice now: it’s either you all die, or he’ll be captured. He’s desperate, and that makes him more dangerous than ever.
With a burst of strength, you managed to make Ted stagger backward, pressing him against the wall. You motioned the three to get out of here and Jake readily nodded in agreement, understanding the severity of the situation.
"We have to help, Y/n!" Richy protested, struggling against Jake's grip. His desperation was palpable, his eyes wide with concern for you and the dangerous situation you were in.
“We have to go.” Jake's voice was urgent as he decisively snatched the laptop from the table, his movements quick and purposeful. He pulled Richy and Hannah away from the escalating conflict, his protective stance shielding them from the potential danger. You could see the fear and determination in his eyes, his focus solely on ensuring their safety. Meanwhile, your battle with Ted continued— a life-and-death struggle that demanded your full attention.
You were acutely aware of the weight of the situation. The gun held by Ted was a deadly threat, and your unwavering goal was to disarm him as swiftly as possible.
“At this point, we’re just going to be a liability to her,” Jake's words cut through the chaos, a stark reminder that your priority was to keep them safe, even if it meant leaving you to face Ted alone.
Amidst the clash, a fierce blow struck your face, sending a jolt of pain through your skull. Your jaw clenched in response, determination overriding the pain as you tightened your grip on Ted, refusing to back down.
“A hard face I see,” Ted grunted, a twisted smirk on his face. “No wonder you seemed unbothered to my threats.”
Despite the blood trickling from your nose, you shot him a wolfish grin. “I think you've underestimated me.”
This fucker has a sick punch you admit. You didn't want to be deterred by that so with a fire in your eyes burning brightly as you pressed forward, your head still throbbing from the earlier blow, you slammed your forehead on him, leaving both of you momentarily stunned.
Before Ted could regain his bearings, your palm crashed down on his wrist, exploiting his momentary weakness. The gun slipped from his grasp, hitting the ground with a loud clatter. The sound was a welcome confirmation of your success in disarming him.
Shaking off the residual dizziness, you moved with swift precision. Your foot struck out, kicking the gun away from his reach. In the same fluid motion, you advanced, your boot connecting with his stomach. The impact sent him hurtling backward, his body colliding with the table. A cacophony of splintering wood accompanied his fall as the table shattered beneath his weight, leaving him sprawled among the debris.
As you stood there, panting slightly, you couldn't ignore the fact that Richy and Jake were both eager to join the fight. This was their battle as much as yours, yet your experience told you that their involvement wouldn't bode well. Jake's injuries left him barely able to stand, and Richy's weakened state from blood loss only added to the danger. As much as you value their willingness to help, you can't allow them to worsen their conditions by joining the fray.
Disregarding the blood that continued to flow from the reopened wound on the side of your head, you closed the distance between you and Ted. But in the midst of your advance, you didn't anticipate his sudden move. A knife materialized in his hand, seemingly from thin air, and he lunged toward your leg. Your reflexes kicked in, and you managed to evade just in time to avoid the full brunt of the strike. Still, the blade grazed against your pants, leaving behind a stinging sensation that served as a harsh reminder that Ted at all fucking costs, should not reach anyone from the three. He’s fully capable to fucking kill someone, and you’ll be damned if you let something happen to them.
"That's it. I'm going in," Richy's voice strained as he struggled against Jake's grasp. While Jake's weakened state made it easier for Richy to wriggle free, the blood loss had left Richy even more vulnerable.
It was a rare sight to see Richy losing his characteristic calm and rational demeanor, and for him to be losing his cool right now means this looks way worse than you imagined. It's a wonder you're still able to keep up with Ted.
Muscle and strength were undoubtedly in Ted's favor, a fact you were acutely aware of. Your typical strategy of using agility to outmaneuver your opponent and turn their strength against them was hindered by the persistent ache in your head from the concussion. Despite this setback, you found yourself pushing through, driven by a potent mixture of adrenaline and determination.
As your breaths came in labored pants, you raised a palm, the blood from your head wound now smeared across your skin. "It's okay, it's okay..."
It was not the best reassuring gesture you could muster but you have to stop Richy. As of now he didn't give much impression that he can give the right call when his judgment is clouded by emotions, it is best to let him stay out of the battlefield.
You let out a harsh breath and tried to get your shit together.
"Richy, listen to me—" your voice caught in a groan, your chest heaving. “You know this mine better than I do. Take everyone to Grimrock. I've got this, hah...”
****
As the tension escalated, Jake was forced to take charge of the situation, guiding both Richy and Hannah forward.
Along the way, as he furiously types against the laptop, he realizes that the stream the culprit had given you was a fake one and was programmed to loop all this time. He also found out that this laptop is also connected to a massive surveillance camera network within the mine. So, to speak the mine is probably riddled with these cameras, lurking in shadows and corners, watching every step they take including the one inside the room you’re currently in under the watchful eye of one such camera.
There’s also an unknown source that had successfully breached their way inside this laptop which essentially had stopped the looped stream minutes ago.
Which means… anyone who has access to the link must have heard and watched what had transpired earlier, and what is currently transpiring in real-time.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath as he shuts down the laptop. He halted, his eyes darting around their surroundings. And then, he spotted it – another camera, the fourth one he'd noticed since they'd left that room.
He had little sense of how far they had come from the exit, but he’s quite sure that they are significantly far enough from you and Ted. He mostly relied on Richy for directions since Ted had destroyed all his gadgets and phone, however, the mechanic seemed lost in his own thoughts, his mumbling refrain of 'It's all my fault' haunting the air like a grim mantra.
Hannah, on the other hand, was a mere shell of herself, overwhelmed both physically and emotionally. Her wide-eyed gaze darted around, barely conscious of her surroundings. He has no idea what happened there before he woke up but the two seemed pretty shaken up more than before.
Though his own memories remained foggy, Jake pushed through the mental haze, focusing on the present moment.
Jake's injuries weighed heavily on him, making every movement a strenuous task. He cursed softly under his breath, knowing that his strength was waning fast. Despite the pain and the nagging worry of potential arrest once they reached Grimrock, he pushed those thoughts aside. The current priority was ensuring the safety of his sister and Richy, especially knowing that you were out there, risking your life for them.
He has to make Hannah and Richy get out of this mine alive. Only after that could he think about returning to you. No matter what.
"Richy," Jake's voice was firm as they reached yet another fork in the tunnel. "Where to?"
“I... I think we should go back.”
That snapped the remaining patience in Jake. “Get yourself together.” He hissed quietly. “We have to get out of here. That is the only way we can help, Y/n.”
“No,” Hannah spoke for the first time in a long while. Her lips trembled as she continued, “this is all my fault… Y/n shouldn’t — Agent Y/l/n shouldn’t risk their life for some murderers!”
Confusion tightened Jake's features. “What are you talking about. Hannah?” he demanded, reaching out to steady her shoulders. “You’re no murderers.”
“No, no, no!” Hannah pulled away; her eyes filled with anguish. She dashed towards the dark tunnel they had come from. Her figure was easily swallowed by the darkness of the mine.
"Hannah!" Richy cries out for her.
No, Hannah...
Jake made a motion to run after her, but a sudden surge of pain pierced his head.
He crumpled to his knees, his hand pressing against his forehead. He tried to sit up, only to be hit by another wave of agony. He groans as he tries to sit up but a sharp beam of light cuts through the darkness, followed by an authoritative voice that echoes off the walls.
“Freeze! This is Duskwood Police!”
****
“I knew there would come a time Richy would betray me,” Ted muttered, his voice dripping with bitterness. His eyes shifted toward the direction they had gone, a hint of anger in his gaze. He started to take a step, his intent clear, but you are not having any of it. He’s going to need to get through with your corpse first before he can leave this room. “Still,” he chuckled darkly. “He did a good job doing the dirty work for me.”
You spat out blood and grinned. “May I remind you he’s never been on your side to begin with?”
“True.” Ted's lips twitched in an almost begrudging acknowledgment. He raised his fist, the knife gleaming menacingly in his other hand while you stood there within a careful distance with an annoyingly sly grin.
Ignoring the ache spiking up with every inch of your body, you settled into your usual fighting stance. One leg was positioned forward, the other slightly back, creating a solid base. Both fists were raised defensively in front of your head, elbows tucked in tightly to protect your sides.
Everything is fucking painful but you didn’t allow yourself to feel anything. Anything but rage. That's all you should feel. Maybe rage would suffice enough to make you stand, to make you walk, to make you fight.
Ted seemed almost amused as he casually tilted his neck, producing an unsettling crack that echoed through the air. His previous grin morphed into a snarl; his eyes filled with a deadly intent. “I’d never want a murderer on my side anyway.”
He decided to move first, the knife swinging fast like a bullet. You just hop back casually, the knife hitting nothing but the air. A wide, almost manic grin spread across his face. Another jab was missed, and then another; one to the right and another to the left.
You quickly realized that Ted is planning to keep this pace up for a while, knowing that if he continued like this given your injuries, you wouldn’t be able to keep up with him before long.
While you're confident in your combat skills, whether up close or at range, your endurance is practically top-notch. You're also aware that Ted has the upper hand in terms of strength and speed at the moment due to your injuries. Nonetheless, you've noticed that while his strength and speed are commendable– he lacks precise muscle coordination, which allows you to deftly evade his jabs.
As the fight raged on, it became evident that Ted's patience was wearing thin. Time seems to slow down as he notices that he has yet to make contact with you. Despite his best efforts, he's only hitting the air. Even your injuries couldn't suppress your movements from being so agile and fluid that he could barely keep up.
“Come on,” you taunted, a playful grin on your face. “You think you’ll be able to catch your self-proclaimed murderers if you can’t even finish off little ol’ me?”
You’re not sure if it’s quite possible to make a person angrier than this but you must have struck a nerve as Ted’s punches came in quick succession, but you are still able to move with such speed, barely needing to shift your weight to evade his blows. Your hands casually rested at your sides, almost mocking Ted as he grew increasingly frustrated.
Minutes passed like a blur, and you continued to evade Ted’s attacks with your god-speed movements. It’s starting to wear you out but still; you manage to go beyond your limits. Even when he had finally cornered you against the wall, you were able to sidestep just in time, causing his fist to collide against the hard wall leaving a large dent against it.
You were always one step ahead. With each punch, you sidestepped, twisted, and ducked with great precision, using quick footwork and careful movements to evade his attacks. You spun and shifted, your movements were seamless and well-timed, making Ted’s' parries miss their mark time and time again.
A second of distraction was all you needed as you quickly rounded behind him, stomping your foot on his back.
You grinned happily as you hop back on your feet and went back to your original stance; hands tucked securely against your arms, patiently waiting for him to stand up.
Ted collided with the wall with a grunt, his tight grip against the knife loosening as it fell to the ground. He didn't expect you to attack back. Nonetheless, he recovered and backed off. That kick was far stronger than he anticipated.
Ted now knew he had underestimated you, and this was no longer a battle he could take lightly. He took a deep breath and charged towards you, this time with more caution in his movements. You could see the determination in his eyes, and you knew that the real battle was about to begin. You have been relying on your evasive skills alone for far too long, and you decided it was time to change up your strategy.
You stepped to the side, avoiding his attack, and countered with a quick jab to his ribs, followed by a hook to his jaw. The blows were quick and powerful, but you didn't stop there.
You followed up with a low kick, sweeping his feet from under him. As Ted fell to the ground, he stood up just as fast as he fell. You didn't let him recover from that and landed a kick to his back. He grunted in pain, but you didn't stop.
You delivered a series of punches to his sides and stomach, each one more powerful than the last. Ted tried to block and dodge, but your attacks were too quick and too precise.
Finally, you backed off, giving him a moment to catch his breath or more precisely, give yourself a break because ‘Goddammit, I think I’ve pushed myself a little too hard.’ You think. You just hoped they had already gotten out of here.
You tried to hide the grimace on your face as you stood there, waiting for him to get back up.
“Aren’t you going a little overboard protecting those murderers, agent?" Ted questioned; his breaths uneven as he regained his footing.
“The only murderer I see right now is you,” you retorted with a teasing expression, you ran your fingers through your hair, brushing away the dried blood hindering your vision.
“Fool!” This only provokes Ted to charge at you again. This time, his kicks were even more forceful and aggressive than before, and you could see that he was putting all his strength into the attacks. However, you remained unfazed, still smirking as you evaded his blows with ease. Although there were moments when he nearly landed a hit on you, you managed to block them just in time with one arm.
You noted though that if you weren’t a trained agent, even though you managed to block his attacks, they are still strong enough to leave a bruise or worse, break a bone to a normal civilian with no fighting experience or whatever.
After a moment of pure evasion from a parry of attacks from Ted, your smile widened as you noticed a glaring blind spot that everyone could see in broad daylight.
As Ted threw a careless punch, you swiftly ducked and moved to his right, unleashing a series of quick, harsh jabs to his ribs. He grunted in pain and swung wildly at you, but you ducked once more and followed up with a roundhouse kick to his face. The blow left him dizzy and disoriented, causing his attacks to become more and more inaccurate.
As he threw another punch, you swiftly yanked his arm and tossed him away. You watched as he turned around and surged back towards you, ready to attack once again. But you were ready for him this time, swiftly ducking under his arm and delivering a punch with such incredible speed and force that may seem impossible for someone who is injured. Your fist made contact with his chest, sending him hurtling into the wall with a thud.
“Finally…” you panted as you crouched in front of his unconscious form, checking for signs of consciousness. Confirming his state, you knew that this was the one-in-a-million outcome you had hoped for.
The suspect was alive, Richy and Hannah had escaped, and you were left victorious. Thoughts of Jake's safety lingered, but you held onto the belief that he would find a way to save himself. If not, you were determined to come to his rescue.
With a sense of satisfaction, you stood up and turned to retrieve the ropes you had been tied with to restrain Ted.
Suddenly you heard a bang.
It was so sudden and loud that you weren’t able to react immediately. Only when you felt the sharp stinging pain against your side did you realize that you had been shot. Warm blood began to pool against your palms as you tried to put pressure on them. You look back at the source and to your horror, Ted with a revolver in his hands has begun to rise from his place. A sickening grin plastered all over his face.
"Got you," his raspy voice cut through the air.
The pain was too much. You have only been fighting earlier out of sheer will and adrenaline, and now that they finally wore off plus a gunshot wound, the pain you are feeling is spiking up all over so bad that you can’t even determine which one hurts the most.
You tried standing up, but it only made you fall on your back as you clutched your side in pain.
Ted’s grinning face looms over you menacingly. “You have put up a good fight, Agent. I’ll give you some credit. However, this is where you will say goodbye.”
Ted raised his revolver, and time seemed to slow down. The movies had always depicted this moment — life flashing before your eyes. Faces of loved ones, friends, and memories cascaded through your mind. Each cherished moment, each unfulfilled promise, they all surged to the forefront.
Images of Jake, Richy, Lilly, Dan, Cleo, Thomas, Hannah, and Jessy flooded your thoughts.
All your moments with them— with her came flashing.
All moments of what could have been came spiraling. All the possible dates, the traveling, the camping with the gang. All those you promised to give her.
You won’t be able to keep your promises.
How could something that hasn’t yet begun start to end right in your very eyes? Was it really meant to be this way?
Maybe.
It’s okay. You tried to convince yourself. They’re safe now. You can rest.
You close your eyes, acceptance slowly creeping up to cover up the pain. You waited for the gunshot.
A beat of silence occurred.
But none came. Only to hear a soft hiss of a swing was heard and then a crack.
“Y/n!”
You dared to open your eyes and saw a pair of warm gray eyes meeting your own. “H-han…” you tried to speak but found it difficult to even breathe.
“I've got you… I've got you,” she whispered, offering a shaky hand to help you up. You grunted, your vision going white from the hot pain. Nevertheless, your eyes fought hard to spot Ted.
There he was, sprawled across the floor, blood pooling around his head. Beside him is the bloodied metallic baseball bat that he had swung at you earlier. An understanding came through you.
“I-I hit him…” Hannah tries to explain between sniffs. “He was… he was going to shoot you..! I didn’t— I don’t know what to do. I j-just can’t let him kill you. I’m sorry.” Her tears fell, her grip on you trembling.
You squeeze her other hand that supports you. “I… h-hah it’s okay, Hannah. You— you didn’t kill him.”
As if to prove his point. Ted's laughter broke through his pain, filling the room. He laughed, a haunting sound that soon morphed into sobs. Both of you watched as he crawled on the ground, his movements feeble. Hannah had hit him pretty hard.
“Jen… I’m sorry…” He sobs, eyes staring at no one in particular. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry. I missed you so much…”
You can only watch him break down. You’re sure his ragged sobs will forever be embarked in your mind. You truly felt sorry for him. But there’s no way out of this one.
Abruptly, his sobs ceased, leaving behind an eerie stillness that engulfed the mine. Ted's gaze shifted toward you and Hannah, his eyes vacant, as though grappling with his inner demons.
It was during this unsettling stillness that you noticed Ted conjure a lighter from thin air, its faint glow illuminating his twisted grin. He ignited the lighter's flame and then released it, allowing it to fall to the ground with a soft hiss. Suddenly, the damp soil underfoot ignited, setting off a chain reaction of fire that raced through the room and beyond the tunnels.
Only then do you realize that the damp soils from the ground weren’t because of water, they were gasoline!
Fuck it. You didn’t expect Ted to resort to suicide, and of course, he thought that’s the best way to bring down you two. Even at the expense of his own death.
The roaring fire's fury consumed the surroundings, the air thickening with smoke and chaos. As the flames surged ever closer, Hannah's grip on you tightened, pulling you away from the encroaching inferno. “Come on!” She fights back the tears as you hear Ted’s one last scream of agony before everything goes silent.
“You should go…” You managed to rasp out, the pain evident in your voice. “Hannah, I’m just going to slow you down…”
“No!” she shook her head vehemently. “I can’t leave you here!”
You managed a weak chuckle, your body straining against the pain. “You’re as h-hah— stubborn as Lilly… but I’m here because I want to s-save you. And that still stands true right n-now…”
Hannah’s grip on your hips tightened. Her pace suddenly goes faster as she helps you navigate through the tunnel with slight ease. Luckily the fire here isn’t as bad as where you came from, but you know it will eventually catch up if you don't hurry.
“This might be hell coming its way up here to come and make me pay for my sins.” Hannah's laugh was tinged with bitterness and tears. “I’m done running away. But I’ll be damned if I let you get caught in this mess again. Let me save you this time, Y/n.”
~~~~~
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A/n: Hi! Good evening (morning or afternoon) to y'all. Sorry, this took so long. As I have said, I find it quite challenging to write a fight scene that would be satisfactory but I tried my best. This is not beta-read just yet because my eyes are so tired from finishing the chapter hahaha but nevertheless, I think it's worth it. Lemme know what you guys think in the comments. I shall rest my eyes now so I'll probably respond to y'all tomorrow. Adios!
#duskwood#duskwood mc#duskwood jessy#duskwood jessy x mc#jessy x mc#mc x jessy#jessy hawkins#duskwood jake#duskwood richy#duskwood dan#duskwood lilly#duskwood cleo#duskwood hannah#duskwood thomas#richy roger#thomas miller#hannah donfort#lilly donfort#dan anderson#duskwood fanfiction#duskwood episode 10
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How Mk inherited the staff
Ok, I've been thinking about this a lot to work out how this fits the plot I've basically rewritten due to hyper fixation, and I think I've got it. For context Sand and Pigsy are the same from the jttw, and Mk absolutely grew up knowing his fun uncle sandy because I refuse to believe pigsy doesn't check up on him regularly. So Mk is taken in by Pigsy after stumbling into the noodle shop hurt and disoriented. Tang helps pigsy fix him up and the try to figure out how to find his family when the kid has no memories. They only thing they find is there seems to be no record of the kid anywhere, and so they make the decision to take him in considering he's already attached to them and it was better than just letting him float around in the system.
So Pigsy names him Mk and he lives a relatively normal life. He had a few health scares what with all that magic being suppressed and the headaches whenever his memories try and fail to break through the surface, but they happened less and less the older he got. Same as canon, Mk becomes pigsys delivery driver. I feel like I should note that I picture Pigsy as more of the stern uncle type than a father figure so that's how I'm portraying him in this au. On one particular day Wukong is flying over the city in his bird form when he spots Mk. For the briefest moment upon seeing him Wukong swears he looked just like Xiaotian (hint hint nudge nudge that's yoUR SON-) and is so shocked that he doesn't pay attention to where he's flying and smacks straight into a telephone pole. Said pole then spontaneously toppled, onlookers are very confused.
So Wukong hightailed it back to ffm to tell Macaque because he's basically panicking internally. Macaque does his best to calm him down when they both hear something. Wukong immediately recognizes the sound and pulls his staff out of his ear (dbk was never sealed so he still has it) and sure enough he was right, there was a ringing sound coming from the staff, the same one he heard when he got it from the dragon palace. Surely it couldn't be a coincidence, the staff starts singing as soon as he sees a random mortal who he thought was his long lost son? Surely it must be reincarnation! (Because logic)
So of course he starts following him. The more he watches Mk the more he sees the similarities, he reminds wukong so much of Xiaotian that it hurts. Macaque followed him for a while and felt the same. And whenever Wukong would bring the staff out he would see Mk turn his head towards it when it sang. By all accounts the staff had chosen a new master. Wukong and Macaque discuss this and agree that it's best to let Mk decide for himself. They just needed to figure out how to tell him.
That's all I have for this post, I didn't expect it to get so long. Anyways I hope you like it. Please leave a comment below or go to the ask box, feedback really helps. See you next time
#lmk au#lmk monkey king#lmk mk#lmk six eared macaque#lmk wukong#lost prince au#lego monkie kid#shadowpeach#lmk xiaotian#lmk sun wukong#jttw pigsy#jttw sandy#lmk tang#lmk dbk
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Blood and Vengeance - Part 4
A/N: Split the original chapter into two parts so I can draw out the drama. It isn't at all because my energy is running on empty and I'm running out of already written material haha.
Pairing: Dettlaff x Reader
Words: 1292
Part 1 | Part 2| Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 (final)
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This particular morning found you struggling with the will to pull the covers back and climb out of bed. It was supposed to be colder today than you would have liked, and the stone floors below certainly didn’t motivate you to leave the comfort of your blanket.
But you did have work to do… so the moment you got the courage you quickly pulled the covers off of your head and swung your legs over the edge, bracing yourself for the unpleasant cold to be your first sensation that morning.
Only it didn’t come. The stone was cool- yes, but not sharply cold. And now that you registered it you had yet to find goosebumps on your arms when the cold air of the room should’ve been hitting you. Instead, you looked over to find the fireplace filled with small flames and large chunks of glowing embers, the remnants of a warm fire, and a newly replenished pile of firewood beside it. But you didn’t remember getting up to light a fire last night? You never did that…
You shuffled sleepily to the fireplace and found a carefully folded note sitting on the mantle, a little drawing of a moth adorning the corner of the paper. You unfolded the note as you warmed your legs in front of the dying fire, pleased to find it was from Dettlaff. It detailed that Regis had left again and Dettlaff went after him, saying that he needed to talk to him about something of great importance and to not expect him back for a good part of the day. Your lips turned upward as you read through the note, a small puff of laughter even tugging at you as you read over his final words.
‘Stay warm today, my little moth.
-Dettlaff’
Your heart fluttered furiously at his new nickname for you; his little moth. You bit your lip to fight back the growing smile that spread across your lips as your fingers ran over the dried ink. Despite having such important things to deal with, he still lit a fire to ensure you woke up comfortably.
With careful hands you folded the note back up and placed it with his last one on your bedside table before going to get ready, a new brightness invigorating you from this simple act of love.
The house was quiet as you worked, with neither Regis nor Dettlaff there to make noise and fill the house with some semblance of life. Though, you were thankful as always to have Amelia whose presence and test dishes gave you and your stomach pleasant company.
“Mmm,” you hummed happily as you took a bite, thinking for a minute on your critique, “I like it, but I think you need a different bread. The tang of sourdough just doesn’t sit well with the rest of the dish…” you commented as you set the piece of bread aside to continue eating.
“I know, I know. The baker said he didn’t have enough supplies to fulfill our order right away, but he should drop by with it sometime today.” She took a large, frustrating bite of bread as she spoke. “Damn you, sourdough….”
You laughed and shook your head at your friend’s antics and continued eating and idly chatting until a particular sound caught your attention.
The familiar groan of the heavy iron gate followed by the heavy CLACK of the door knocker let you know someone had finally arrived.
“Oh, that must be the baker.” You perked up, “I’ll get it, you can finish eating.” You told her and stood, straightening out your dress before you went over to answer.
“You’re just hoping your handsome brooding man is back..!” she yelled with a snicker, her laugh only growing when you yelled back.
“Ah, shut up, Amelia!”
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Dettlaff poured into the cracks of Regis’s private crypt in the form of black and red smoke, coming down to the ground to solidify into his normal self.
“Regis..?” he called out as he walked around, searching the darkened tunnels.
“Dettlaff… I wasn’t expecting you here. What’s going on?” Regis said, poking his head out from a dimly lit room.
“We need to talk- I… I don’t know what’s going on anymore.” He mumbled as he paced the room. “About Y/n, I- just…” his hand rubbed over his face as he let out a frustrated growl.
Regis quickly dropped everything and moved toward his pacing friend. He was hoping on his eternal life that this wasn’t another tea-spilling incident. It had been obvious as of late how preoccupied Dettlaff had become with you, you were one of the only things he talked about after all. He had been making leaps and strides towards understanding humans as a whole and if that had all turned on a dime…. He almost didn’t want to know.
“What’s happened now?” The older vampire asked, already dreading the next few words.
“I…” Dettlaff struggled and ground his teeth audibly “I think I love a human…” He finally admitted, as if admitting shameful defeat.
Silence bounced around the dark cavern until the crackle of laughter rippled through the air. Regis didn’t even realize he was laughing so hard until he was doubled over from it.
“STOP LAUGHING” Dettlaff roared out, anger painting over his embarrassment. “Stop laughing at me, Regis!” he hissed, his features twisting into a flash of his more bat-like self.
“Ah… ah, I’m sorry my friend… I truly don’t mean to laugh I just- I may have seen this coming for some time, but you still surprise me.” Regis said with a pleasant sigh to catch his breath as he righted himself once more.
Dettlaff paused, “You… saw this coming…?”
Regis almost laughed again, “Dettlaff. My friend- if she walks anywhere near you your brain instantly goes to half capacity. You look at her like a bat looks longingly at its cave come sunrise… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so caught up on someone,” Regis explained as he shook his head. It’s like he was dealing with a couple of schoolchildren dancing circles around their crush.
“Don’t even get me started on the way she looks at you. I swear-”
Dettlaff's ears perked up at that, “you think she looks at me the same way?” he interrupted quickly. Humans were often so subtle in their actions and their words that he wasn’t sure if you were just teaching him to be friendly like Regis asked or if you genuinely felt the same.
Regis raised his eyebrow, arms crossed as if this should all be perfectly clear to the other vampire, “Since the first day she saw you she’s been positively enamored…”
The cave was quiet once again as Dettlaff took this in, nodding to himself as he took this new information into account. He had just opened his mouth to say something when a horrible feeling pinged deep in his chest.
Something was wrong.
It was like the deepest pain and grief hit a sudden rolling boil in his chest. His shoulders raised as his entire body tightened with fear, his fingers twitching with the need for action.
Regis watched him go through the whole thing, his features twisting again as an odd sense of fight or flight kicked in. “What is it?” he asked, having felt his own small shiver of unease- but nothing like his fellow bat.
“Something’s wrong… something’s really wrong…” Dettlaff’s breath quickened as he looked around him, noting no immediate danger.
“Go back to the house. Now. I’ll follow behind and keep an eye out.”
With that smoke filled the cavern once more; gray, black, and red fog shooting out of the smallest cracks in the cave's ceiling to race toward home.
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#dettlaff van der eretein#dettlaff x reader#dettlaff van der eretein x reader#dettlaff x y/n#dettlaff x you#dettlaff van der eretein x You#dettlaff van der eretein x Y/n#dettlaff imagine#Witcher Dettlaff
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Huge lore dump- prologue
Okay, this is going over backstories and the kraang/Oroku clan with some more character added into Shredder
I had to make a whole new folder in my notes app just to put this all together 💀
Warning for IDW-compliant violence
Kraang-
So there’s a place called dimension X, and two alien races live there, the Utroms and the Triceratons. They’re fighting a war for territory, and an Utrom was making bio weapons when boom, something went wrong!
They were turned into a creature called a kraang, and they turned most of the Utroms into kraang too, and they formed a hive mind as they swept through the triceratons and made the remaining army flee
The kraang then are trying to expand their hive mind, and they’re incredibly stupid but they have mutagen, which is ridiculously dangerous because it mutates anything organic with the last dna it touched, and it’s horribly unstable
They find earth and are like “yooo let’s pick this one” and they’re just trying to figure out how to adjust human life to their hive mind, resulting in so many experiments. Just, experiments EVERYWHERE
Shredder-
In Kyoto Japan in the 1960s or so, two historical ninja clans were fighting each other still, the Hamato and Oroku clans (I’m calling the foot clan the Oroku clan because I can’t take feet seriously)
The main guy from the Hamato clan, Hamato Yuuta, won and essentially massacred the whole Oroku clan but refused to kill an infant who was now an orphan, and he adopted him instead, and named him Hamato Saki
He was raised with his biological son, Yoshi, and the two grew up inseparable
As they got older though, Saki started to notice the favoritism his brother got and the way the older people were wary towards him, and he was like “what the heck guys I didn’t do anything??”
And Yoshi was a little shit btw, just an asshole who was getting all the attention because he was the heir to the Hamato clan, which Saki thought was bullshit because he didn’t deserve it
Also, ninpo! Ninpo in this universe is just found family superpowers you get if you’re in the Hamato family, like, encanto but Japanese instead of Colombian
Saki had fire, but he could never control it well due to the stress surrounding his family and the lack of trust in him, while Yoshi had healing, which he was good at.. but mostly used on himself to fuck around and be dumb
In comes Tang Shen! A lady from Fukuoka who may or may not have connections to yokai, she and Yoshi fell for each other HARD, and they got married and they were happy and stuff, and had a daughter, Miwa
Now, they sorta start fighting over wether or not to move away, Tang Shen wanted her daughter to live a normal childhood instead of being a relic of the past, and Yoshi just really liked the clan
Saki figures out what happened to his family. He’s not pleased.
He tells Shen, who’s genuinely sympathetic and seems to be on his side! He mentions a coup and that he should kill the Hamato clan back and she’s like “NO????”
He does so anyway, and he gathers everyone on his side to overthrow the Hamato clan, and he attacks Yoshi in his house, and in the fight Saki starts a fire that quickly becomes unstable
Shen sees the fire and she has Miwa with her, she panics and puts Miwa on the ground and runs into the building to help
Shen gets accidentally killed by Saki, and both of them panic as the fire gets worse, and they’re both presumed dead by the other
Before Saki passes out from smoke inhalation, he sees four human kids carry what he thought was Yoshi’s body out and see them leave him as he yells to them
When Saki gets out, he sees Miwa on the ground and is like “Hm, this isn’t symbolic at all,” and he adopts her, naming her Oroku Karai
Yoshi, who’s left without his wife, daughter, home, and literally everything, he immigrated to America for a new start
..that didn’t particularly pan out the greatest, but he has 4 turtle sons now and he’s ratatouille
Kirby O’Neil-
He was some dude who moved to Massachusetts after having his daughter with his wife, May. Things seemed normal in their cabin in Northampton, when May started acting more erratically and then some weird aliens showed up and took May and tried to take April
Kirby fled with April (who was 6) back to New York, and met back up to Arnold Jones, his friend since high school, who was struggling horribly after the passing of his wife (not an excuse for the way he treated Casey) and he sort of tried to find a new normal.
In current day, Kirby has essentially become Casey’s dad and he’s considered family
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LK Chen – Munich Town Guard Sword
LK Chen Munich Town Guard sword takes its inspiration from an iconic sword crafted by the famed German sword maker Wolfgang Stantler in the early 17th century which is commonly known today as the Munich Town Guard sword. It has a sharp and well tempered blade of GB 60Si2MnA High Carbon Manganese Spring Steel which hits a fine balance between rigidity for the thrust and necessary flex for resilience. Not only is the sword capable of decisive punctures on a target, but it can cut and slash with considerable ability! The complex guard is well-cast from stainless steel with a dull gray finish. The grip is bound in tight braided wire surmounted by wire knotwork. Included with the sword is a wooden scabbard which is bound in leather and completed with a protective stainless steel chape.
These “Town Guard” swords are in essence medieval single-hand arming swords with the addition of protective bars to take the place of the plate gauntlet. While post-dating the Oakeshott’s medieval sword typology, Munich Town Guard typically correspond to Oakeshott Type XV and XVIII blades, balancing cutting and thrusting abilities by starting broad at the guard and tapering dramatically to an acute point. It was a design that was a fine all-rounder with its considerable cut-and-thrust ability and it could be used as readily for the battlefield or for self defense in the raucous city streets at evening.
The Town Guard’s thick forte and tang, strong profile and distal taper, complex hilt and wire-bound grip combine to create a lively weapon that also is heavy enough to withstand and excel at use against armored opponents on a crowded battlefield. Whereas a rapier is often a specialized dueling and self-defense weapon to be used in non-military contexts, the more robust Sidesword has a ready place on the 17th century battlefield. Many of Stantler’s battle swords can be found outside Germany in collections throughout the world including the Royal Armories, Armories of the Dukes of Burgundy and Higgins Armory Museum and Wallace collection.
Please Note: The guard / hilt of the sword has a dull gray finish which looks brighter under studio photography lights. It is normal and common for there to be some minor blemishes, such as scuffs / scratches on the finish present.
#Kult of Athena#KultOfAthena#New Item Wednesday#LK Chen#Munich Town Guard Sword#sword#swords#weapon#weapons#blade#blades#European Swords#European Weapons#Renaissance Swords#renaissance Weapons#German Swords#German Weapons#Wolfgang Stantler#17th century#Oakeshott Type XV#Oakeshott Type XVIII#GB 60Si2MnA High Carbon Manganese Spring Steel#Battle Ready
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