#'its all about power.' but eli made him doubt. even for just a second. that it had to be that way

[jellied0ctopus]

yeah, twist was lying to eli the whole time. but the only time it felt like he was really, genuinely acting was during the fight in the cave and i stand by that

[be-dazzled]

The Art of Falling

Chapter II LOVE, AN ABSTRACT CONCEPT

Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser, Gajeel Redfox Alternative Historical Universe Genre: Old World Vibes, Period Romance All Chapters: Click here

Writer’s Corner: I think we have to make this one alternative historical since, Juvia will obviously maintain her blue locks. She isn’t Juvia if she won’t. Also, as promised, this is going to be a monthly update. So, see you next September! Let me know what you think. Show your girl some love.

Masterlist

“Let me put this into perspective,” Lady Mika Fullbuster slowly started, trying to make sense out of Gray’s proposal, “this woman you speak of, the woman who left you beaten out in the cold, is the woman you wish to marry?”

The gentleman seated opposite her inside the carriage was looking out the window, at the passing scenery through the small frame of the horse-drawn carriage. He expelled a breath of exasperation as he repeatedly answered the question since the first night he proposed the notion.

“Mother, no matter how many times you ask, the answer will remain unchanged.” Gray did not take his eyes off the window as he answered; finding the herd of cattle tended by an old cattleman far more interesting than to keep repeating himself. So, he only heard his mother turn to the patriarch for confirmation.

“And we are going to allow this?”

“The Locksers aren’t a bad family, dear. I’ve met the gentleman many times.” There was a rustle of paper as Silver turned the page of the periodicals he was reading. “As a matter of fact, their family was one of the original settlers of Magnolia. They still have some connection, although very little.”

It took Gray a week or two to finally find the peculiar woman he met at the night of his welcome party. It came as a surprise to him when he learned that Juvia Lockser, one of the daughters of the Lockser family, had lived her entire life in Magnolia. She didn’t seem to share the genteel modesty expected of the ladies of such prestigious town. But who was he to judge as he only met him through those humiliating affairs.

“That wasn’t what I meant, dear.” The other half of the Fullbuster couple swiftly rectified. There was a slight embarrassment in her tone as she feared that her question was deemed critical of the Locksers. “I am only concerned for our son’s well-being. For him to marry a woman he just met in such an extraordinary circumstance…” She trailed off, mulling over her next words.

Gray had an idea what his mother was most worried about – that he would be bringing an unrefined lady into the Fullbuster family. It was, after all, his mother’s duty to see to it that the woman he chooses to marry was fit for the Fullbuster name. That meant that his future wife must possess all his mother’s requirements. Unfortunately, Juvia Lockser seemed to have fallen short of those requirements. So, why was he squandering time travelling to the Lockser household? He could simply not tell them the true reason. Hence, he covered with, “She is the woman I choose.” As if his words offered any explanation but certainly resolve.

“If she tickles his fancy, my love, there is nothing either of us can do about it.” He folded the paper and turned to his wife, saying his next words with finality and resignation. “The heart desires what it desires.”

His father’s words pulled Gray’s attention towards the couple who shared a look filled with silent adoration. It made Gray consider about ‘his heart’s desire’? It was preposterous to think that a heart, a living organ inside his chest, a mere tool for his blood circulation, had the ability to contemplate on wants or desires when the heart lacked a brain on its own. The mind, logic, those were the things that seek for purpose, for desire, for ends and, without a doubt, not an organ like the heart. What a preposterous notion.

Silence once again settled above their heads as the carriage continued to traverse the dirty road towards their destination – the Lockser Home.

…

“My dear, my dear! Come downstairs this instant!”

The Lockser patriarch, with his dull, blue hair sticking flatly to his head, descended the steps with lazy strides.

“What is with this commotion so early in the morning?” he riled, not sparing a glance at the woman jumping at the landing of the staircase, something she’d never done in decades.

“What’s lighting your bottoms, my dear?”

“Oh, my dear, Mr. Lockser,” she swooned beside her husband, feeling lightheaded with the news that came to her this morning, “you have no idea what fortune is about to befall our suffering family.”

“Our family is only suffering from your cry of woes, Mother.”

The Lockser sisters trailed behind their father with Eliana, Juvia and Wendy falling in line on the narrow staircase. The eldest, disapproving of Juvia’s attitude, reprimanded her with a loud slap on the shoulder.

“Don’t speak to mother in such a manner, Juvia. A proper lady only speaks politely.”

As Juvia opened her mouth and about to retort, Eli knew better to cut her off.

“What is this good fortune you speak of, Mother?”

“Oh, my loveliest daughter Eliana!” she exclaimed, caressing the eldest Lockser’s smooth skin of her cheeks with her palms. “Lord Fullbuster has sent word that they are heading to pay our family a visit!”

There was no other news that could send Mrs. Lockser into a high spirits other than even the slightest prospect of an offer of marriage from a wealthy gentleman.

“Oh, Eli!” Elmara flatted the strands of hair into Eliana’s clean and tight bun and pretended to brush imaginary dust on the Eldest’s shoulders, preparing the young lady for the destined meeting. “You must have captured the heart of the Lord’s son. Oh, what beauty!”

“But I haven’t met the Lord’s son, Mother.”

Juvia had this bitter feeling starting at the pit of her stomach. The Lord’s son? She would not have the chance to know the Lord’s son since she did not stay long enough to meet him. But somehow, she felt something she could not place a finger on. Like, something was amiss. Strangely, her mind travelled back to the night she met that debauch of an opportunist and her anger with his shamelessness made her blood boil. An ugly idea crossed her mind, but which she quickly dismissed. There was nothing noble about that lad except for his expensive coat he forced upon her which later, she realized, she badly needed. Catching herself thinking about him again, Juvia dragged herself back to reality – the bothersome reality of her mother preparing the eldest Lockser for a possible destined meeting. She couldn’t fully sort out her feelings about it; about the possibility that Juvia might have to lose her eldest sister in marriage and that saddened her. But to Eliana, she seemed enamored about the idea.

In a rush, the family’s help broke into the living room with an announcement.

“Lord Silver Fullbuster, Lady Mika Fullbuster and their son, Lord Grayden Fullbuster.”

Elmara did everything in her power not to squeal and embarrass herself and, in extension, her entire family. Fearing that she was in earshot of the guests, she restrained her voice as Mrs. Elmara Lockser spat out her orders, forcing her family to arrange some staged presentation to somehow make the Fullbusters believe that the Locksers still possessed the gentry they once held, to which her family fell uncomfortably into.

“Tell me why are we pretending to be something we are not again?”

“Just be quiet, young lady.” The reprimand was spoken through gritted teeth and an awfully pretentious smile. “Do not ruin this opportunity for your sister.”

But to this kind of larking around, Juvia saw an ally. She threw a knowing glance at her father. They shared a resigned smile and a shrug of the shoulders. Her father has long accepted that Mrs. Lockser’s priority was finding a suitable mate for their daughters. That if she failed to do so, Mrs. Lockser deemed herself an unfit mother. As the head of the family, however, Mr. Julian Lockser still had the last word.

The old wooden floors of the house creaked as it welcomed the nobility that paid the Lockser household a visit. It was Lord Silver Fullbuster himself, aided with a cane, who introduced himself first, his wife and then his son, Grayden Fullbuster, who was the one who had business to discuss with the family.

Juvia’s expression was one which seemed like she saw a ghost or thought that maybe her eyes deceived her. But her vision was clear as day. The shameless man who did all sort of unspeakable things to her back at the party now stood before her and her family, walking in with one of the most powerful and influential families in Magnolia. There was a bad feeling gripping at her, disliking the road where her thoughts led. She wanted to leave, to discreetly escape from the house. It was a tad too late as the moment his dark blue eyes locked with Juvia’s, Gray immediately recognized the woman who visited his mind quite frequently. She sternly met his gaze and he held her foreboding glare as long as he could.

Oblivious of the staring match his second daughter and the son of his guests engaged in, Mr. Lockser invited one and all to the parlor. Mrs. Lockser, who was pleased more than anyone, apologized for the current state of the room, only to give off false humility.

“We were not expecting your arrival, Your Lordship.” Elmara waved the help into the room and offered the guests her finest tea and bread. “Please, help yourself with the refreshments. I understand you have travelled far only to meet our humble family.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Lord Silver accepted, resting his cane against his chair’s armrest and made himself comfortable on his seat. The Lady, on the other hand, was still quite reserve; contrary to the friendliness her husband displayed. Lady Mika has yet to make her mind about the Locksers. So, as her husband enjoyed himself with the offered treats, Lady Mika stated their purpose.

“We apologize for coming without prior notice.” She started. “However, I believe my son has a matter to discuss with your daughter. One which cannot be simply delayed.”

All expectant blue eyes, varied in shade, landed on the aptly dressed young lord. He was initially surprised by the sudden attention. Then, he coughed into his fist and cleared his throat before speaking.

“Yes. Our purpose for coming here.” He said inaudibly, as if reminding himself of their goal. Finally composing himself, Gray met those expectant eyes without waver. “I would like to request a private audience with your daughter...”

Juvia prayed he would say the right name as the rest of the Locksers, save her father, held their breaths.

“Ms. Juvia.”

Juvia knew what everyone was thinking; she thought of it too. How could a man of his stature look pass the real beauty in the family? Was he blind? Has he lost hold of reality?

“My daughter Juvia?” Elmara repeated, releasing the breath that hitched in her throat and voicing the question the rest of the Lockser family had in mind.

“Yes.” Gray reiterated, meeting the doubtful eyes of Mrs. Lockser, and then turned to the woman who was the purpose of his long journey. “The second daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Lockser, if she would allow.”

Albeit still quite confused, Elmara turned to her second daughter, uncertain of what to say or how to react, exactly.

“Then, Mr. Fullbuster…” Both men of the Fullbusters answered, making Juvia realize her mistake. “I meant, Mr. Grayden, please come follow me.” Juvia excused herself from the room, expecting the lad she requested to follow her where they could discuss their matter more privately.

Juvia gathered the skirt of her dress, only to pull the hem above her ankle, so she could ascend the stairs more quickly, without sparing a glance behind her. If Mr. Grayden Fullbuster lost his way around the Lockser home, she’d feel much better. She traversed the narrow hallways to bring the man to the room she shared with her sisters, only to have him keep himself behind the threshold, reluctant to take another step.

“Would it really be alright if I…” the gentleman’s voice trailed off, his dusky eyes inspecting the small room, taking inventory of its minimal contents, until he met Juvia’s reticent stare. “If I enter your personal room?”

“I invited you, haven’t I?” If he wasn’t too confident or too sure of himself when he spoke to her parents earlier, Juvia would have assumed that the gentleman who refused to enter a woman’s room without permission was a nervous wreck. She watched him hesitantly cross the threshold into her room but maintained a distance between them.

“I shall not waste your time any longer and quickly state my business.” He took a deep breath, making it quite obvious that it was his first time to be in such a situation. “It is of common knowledge by now that I am to inherit my father’s estate. It is estimated at about–” Gray’s speech was abruptly cut when something textured hit his face and darkened his vision. He removed the clothing and realized it was the coat he lent the woman the night they met.

“I assume you are here for that. It must be expensive, after all.”

This time, when Gray met her eyes, he caught him staring at the strong-willed pools, same as those the night of the fateful meeting. There was no more of that modesty she pretended she had around her family. She was, once again, the defiant girl who left him in cold blood, out in the streets after the air left his body with a single punch. This was the girl who he came here for and he was unsure why he was quite relieved when Juvia behaved more like the peculiar woman at the party.

“Ah, yes. Thank you.” Confronting a woman like Juvia left his mind all befuddled that he, for the first time in his life, was at loss for words. Gray shook his head, finding the act ironically useful to clear his mind. “But my purpose for coming isn’t just about this coat. No.” He corrected himself. “My purpose for taking the journey isn’t about this coat at all.”

With a clearer mind, his intention swam into focus. Gray stepped forward, bridging the small distance between him and the woman, and settled the coat on the bed nearest to Juvia.

“I, Grayden Fullbuster, would like to ask your hand in–”

“No! Don’t speak of it!” Juvia’s blue eyes turned into angry oceans.

Gray had to take a step back, to keep his distance as her harsh tone made him feel unwelcomed. He beseeched her eyes, searching for a reason that could possibly explain how his attempt to ask her hand in marriage might offend the woman. All he found were her deep-seated ire to his audacity and a buried ache that she probably did not wish for him to see. Perhaps Juvia saw the confusion in Gray’s remorseful stare that she chose to hide and turn her back on him. The young lord felt a bitter taste stir in the pit of his stomach, burning its way up his mouth. How a gentleman could cause a lady such pain?

“I just wanted to take responsibility for that night.”

Juvia faced him again, her face twisted in an expression of pure arrogance. “I never asked you to.”

The declaration came as another surprise. This woman, the woman standing her ground so firmly, so determinedly, was no one like any other he had met before. Gray was growing impatient that despite himself, the young gentleman had raised his voice over the lady.

“We found each other under circumstances that must only transpire between married couples. I invaded your personal space. You look at me defiantly as against tradition. I put my hands on you without permission. Yet you refuse my proposal?”

There was no more pain but her eyes held such fierce fury that burned Gray’s skin. “I am not aware of how you perceive a man and a woman should behave around each other nor would I give it time in my day. Despite appearances, Mr. Fullbuster, I am a woman who will only marry for no other reason than love.”

Before taking the journey to the Lockser Household, Gray Fullbuster had practiced his speech, selecting the words with utmost consideration. Doubts frequented his mind about the second daughter accepting his offer. With the way she carried herself so differently from the women that came before her, he had expected Juvia to act and decide reasonably. To accept the gentleman’s offer of mutually beneficial partnership was, in all sense, very logical. Grayden Fullbuster was a man who had a lot to offer: fortune and prestige as among others. Any woman would be induced to accept his proposal of marrying into the noble clan of the Fullbusters. Hence, he could not seem to fathom how a sensible woman such as Juvia would even entertain the idea of love. But Gray Fullbuster ought to laugh at himself for expecting something so usual and ordinary from an extraordinary woman such as Juvia.

His silence stretched on, making the young lady uncomfortable. In her final act of rejection, she turned away from him again, and broke the silence with her own proposal.

“I understand your Lord and the Lady have traveled this far only for it to be unfruitful. I am not the only daughter in this household.” There was a slight twinge of ache in her chest that ran deep than the mere rejection of the marriage for the wrong reasons. “You might have noticed the beauty might eldest sister possesses.” Who could have not seen and appreciated the beaut that is Eliana Lockser? “Perhaps, you’d take fancy on her.”

If she was being honest to herself, a part of Juvia wanted him to reject the idea. A part of her wanted to believe that the proposal of marriage was Gray’s sincere offer. A part of her wished he’d noticed her own charm in spite of the presence of the most beautiful Lockser sister.

A part of her, however, believed that in a world where Eliana existed, Juvia could not.

“Perhaps.”

And that part of her, laughing at her own silliness to dream, had always been right.

…

Like the way they arrived, the Fullbusters travelled back home in silence. But despite the lack of exchange between the parents and the only son, the heir of Lord Silver Fullbuster, Gray’s head was far from at peace. Juvia’s words about seeking marriage for love had Gray question his own belief system.

Love? Wasn’t love a mere chemical reaction in the brain? A by-product of the need to procreate?

“Did she accept?”

Gray lifted his gaze to meet his mother’s inquiring look. “She imposed upon me a condition.” He answered.

“What condition?”

“That I make her fall in love with me.”

Love. An abstract thought which cannot be seen nor held. Something Gray had yet to understand the concept of. That which no one could ever fully explain, not by his books or any accounts to those who fell victim to it. How, then, could he make Juvia Lockser fall in love with him?

[sugarcookiesandsins]

Charmed [Episode 6]

➰ ot7 x reader, poly!bts x reader, mafia!bts ➰ they wouldn’t notice her until she was standing above them, a smoking gun in her hand a bullet in their heart 🌡 M   🛑  details about weaponry and similar materials, dark humor, swearing, mentions of violence 🕛  4.k+

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Following your explanation, the boys sat in silence as each of them took in the various blueprints and notes spread out before them. Processing it took them some time, and Eli took the opportunity to soothe his dry throat with the remnants of his drink.

“It’s complicated, to say the least.” Namjoon’s voice was distant as his mind wasn’t all that focused on the words coming out of his mouth.

Yoongi only snorted in response, but it was more of a reaction that he had given for the duration of the discussion so Eli considered it a win all in all and looked to the other members for their reactions. Seeing nothing else of note in their eyes, he reached for the papers to clean them up, planning on returning to his room and cleaning up, before going out for supplies. Sure, Hoseok or Jimin could probably hook them up with all that they needed but call it a con’s intuition for wanting to check out the equipment themselves.

Grabbing hold of the documents, he rifled through them and aligned the corners as he always did before getting up.

“I’m headed out for some of the basic equipment so yall can break it in before D-day.” Not waiting for an answer, he headed back to his designated room, barely sparing a minute to toss the papers onto his desk before heading to the bathroom. 

With the door locked and the hot water soothing your muscles, you had some time to yourself to think. Your relationship with the rest of the boys could be simmered down to two words: grudging acceptance. Neither side was about drop their pride and invite the other out to dinner, but at least Jungkook wasn’t lunging for your throat every time he laid eyes on you.

The heist was risky, and would take some real trust and teamwork, and “grudging acceptance” wasn’t exactly the best relationship to have with the people you would be trusting with your life while completing the mission. You still were damn sure that they wouldn’t hesitate to leave you behind if they needed to; their relationship was one where they looked out for each other and solid walls were drawn against those who weren’t inside when those walls were built.

In a way, you understood. Though you didn’t have the exact details, it was obvious they went through some trauma together, one that bound them together by something greater than blood ties or brotherhood. You were the same way; the only difference was that you were alone when you built those walls and they had each other.

Shutting off the water, you stepped out into the foggy bathroom, the heat blushing your skin red. The mirror was fogged up, and the metaphor almost made you snort. It seemed that even the world was trying to tell you that within all the personas and costumes, you had lost sight of your true self, even as it stood within reach, blurry but there.

The skin on your chest was red and irritated, most likely from the bandages you used to keep your secret. You needed to spend a night away from them, if only so you could let your skin breathe.

Getting your costume back on, you waltzed out of your bedroom towards the living room, most of the boys had disappeared, but Jimin was still where you had left him, albeit in clothes more appropriate for your shopping trip. In a way, you expected Hoseok to be there as well, but Jimin oversaw their equipment.

“Do you know the weights and heights of everyone,” Eli casually asked as he thumbed through a small journal filled with more of his chicken scratch trying to find the specific page he wanted.

“Don’t tell me you’re interested in us,” Jimin scoffed obviously getting the wrong impression from Eli’s words.

“Interested in keeping you all alive yeah.” Eli turned his back on the still lounging Jimin, who had somehow managed to get even more attractive as he leaned back invitingly on their soft couch. “Don’t fool yourself shorty. I doubt you have anything that would make me want to chase after you.”

Making his way to the foyer of the apartment, he didn’t even look back to see if Jimin was following him before he slipped out and towards the elevators.

The ride down was silent once Jimin joined him, each absorbed in their own devices to pass the time. Upon exiting the tall high-rise building, Eli was none too surprised at the sleek black SUV waiting for them. They needed to buy a lot of equipment and they would need a large car to hold it all.

While in the car, both still maintained the strict silence that they had started in the elevator. Eli’s eyes were focused on the passing scenery, letting out tiny grins at the snapshots of daily life he saw beyond the tinted glass windows. They were all so oblivious to the harsh realities of the world and even if they did know, their brains would probably cut out the information deeming it too harmful to remember. 

PJM

He seemed utterly uninterested in anything other than the mission. It really was odd to see how quickly his attitude adjusted when he explained the plan to us this morning. Not once did he let out his signature smile, all teeth and stupidity. It was long, complicated, and required a lot more trust than I felt anyone was willing to give him at this point in whatever relationship was forming between us.

Going out with him was most definitely not my choice, but Namjoon had insisted on it because apparently it was obvious that I was the one with the most prejudices against our new add-on. We all knew it was a blatant lie, but Jungkook had no qualifications to go shopping therefore here I am.

The car is surprisingly silent, and looking over at Eli, he’s focused on the outside world. There was longing in a sense, something we all felt from time to time; we wonder and dream of our lives with intact families and normality.

The car stops in front of a hotel, conspicuous and in the center of town; it’s perfect. Getting down, it’s no surprise that we make an impression on the surrounding people. Jimin’s face is common on the news channels and everyone knows the people he associates with, so everyone gives us a wide berth as we enter the hotel.

Walking to the front desk, the person manning the fort gives us the biggest customer service smile that I have ever seen. Jimin merely nods back before handing over a medallion and asking for, “Room 113 please” with the most conversational tone.

“Forgive me sir, but our staff is still cleaning the room for you. Please feel free to wait in our lobby and I will call you when the room is prepared.” When you enter this line of work, you should always be prepared to deal with word games and subliminal messaging. We both understood what his words meant, there was already someone shopping so we could not go in.

Most places like this did not worry about anonymity between guests, hoping that it would work as sort of a motivation to not betray the location; if someone got captured then they could name everyone else that they saw. It was more commonly seen in stores that had not gotten a footing in the black world of crime. Yet, the truly powerful locations did not need to rely on such childish motivations as that.

Jimin and I made our way to the couches a couple feet away from the receptionist. The world continued to move on around us. Initially, some were focused on our identities, but as they each needed to be somewhere else, we were left alone in the middle of the lobby. The hotel itself seemed to be the playground of the higher class based on all the brand names glittering around me and the large entourages that revolve around a single person.

In a way, that life seemed bland to me. What fun was there to have everything handed to you, sure it was novel for a little while but then it would lose it’s charm. Inherently, people get bored which is why you see celebrities always doing.

It wasn’t long before the receptionist approached us from behind the desk and informed us that they were ready for us. He motions us to follow him and we do.

The receptionist returns to behind the desk and programs a reader card to let us into our requested room. He faces us again and hands that card over with that same sickeningly bright smile. “I hope everything is to your standards.” He knows, though I do not know why I ever doubted it for a second.

Jimin nods and I follow his example of silence as he leads me down a hallway and to our room. Unlocking it with the given card, he lets me inside before shutting and locking the door behind us both. The space is small and not a room at all; it was an elevator.

Surveillance was full force as someone welcomed us to the store and instructed us not to touch anything as the decent began on its own. By my estimate, the level that we stopped at was one below the basement. The doors opened before us and we walked into a well-lit room, almost as big as a proper ballroom. Certainly, not as high but just a big in width and length. The rich vibe continued down here as well with the red walls and gold trimming on the walls and on the cabinets filled to the brim with guns and other equipment.

At the far end of the room, a man in a fitted suit stood relaxed in his posture. Not single strand of hair or muscle moved out of place as we approached him. “Welcome. Please take a look around at your leisure and feel free to ask any questions. We are here to assist.”  

Jimin jets off towards the far end of the room, firmly in the directions of some automatic handgun; they suited him. I had initially pegged him at a knife person, but then again he wanted efficiency more than any perceived bloodlust so I relented on my initial judgement. His steps were quick, barely holding on to the perception of calm, but he was like a child in a candy shop, no doubts about it.

Letting him satisfy his own curiosity, I turned to the tactical gear. I would worry about the boys later, getting their measurements from Jimin now would be impossible when he seems much more interested in the custom grips on an Italian classic.

Shopping for harnesses was ironically reminiscent to shopping for clothes; they were all on gold hangers and organized by size and prices. The boys (read: Big Hit) were paying for all this anyways so I’d take advantage of that; only I knew what was really needed for this.

Shifting through them all, I decided on one with multiple points of weight distribution that had multiple clip combinations so one could vary their support based on their preference or on the limits of rope. As I was looking, I felt a presence on my 6 or 7 o’clock; it was either Jimin or the attendant.

“Is this what you wanted the body measurements for?” Jimin.

“No,” I scoffed. “I needed that information to plant fake bodies when we all fail this and need to get the heck out of dodge.”

“The confidence you have in us is astounding.” He didn’t waste time is coming back for me with the same amount of sarcasm.

“I have as much confidence in you as I do in my own survival with the group of you.” Snatching the paper with the written measurements out of his hand, I didn’t bother to head his response as I pulled out different sizes of the same harness. They would cost a pretty penny, but you weren’t footing the bill.

“Take these to the table.” I was already searching for the ropes; something strong preferably suspension or paracord, but mountaineering might work.

“Do it yourself.”

“Like you know what we need for this. Just do what I ask and maybe my confidence that we’ll survive this increase by a tenth of a percent.”

“You’re difficult.”

“But I’m good and that’s what you really need right now isn’t it? Now go.”

Deciding on some dark colored SWAT rappelling rope in 200 feet lengths. It was double braided and would be more than enough to carry our weights at 9mm in diameter. However, ti was a hefty weight, but I’d leave that to the boys. Additionally, I picked up some paracord, just in the case of an emergency lashing or situation.

Next, some infrared googles. They were also a hefty price, but trusting the boys to already have their own, I waited until Jimin returned from his second trip from the far table to confirm. Given a OK, I think he had given up on arguing with me for the sake of it, I picked out some durable ones with a heat sensor attachment.

Last in terms of tacticals, would be body suits. These would go under our regular clothes, additional protection and heat without the bulk. Of course, some bullet proof clothes would be going on top, but still a good base is always necessary.

Now to the fun part, weapons.

Jimin had already beat me to it, having laid out some stuff that he wanted for himself or that he got at the request of the other boys. A computer chip, most likely for Yoongi, catches my eye. Having a computer for research and planning would be so much easier than having to piece together scraps of paper.

Grabbing a sleek laptop off the shelf, I added it to the ever-growing pile of supplies on the table under the raised eyebrow of Jimin. He reaches for it, but I smack his hand away and firmly state that “I like doing these things myself.” I hear no further argument.

Then comes the guns. Semi-automatics have a soft spot it my heart so I grab an all-American Hollywood classic, twin Desert Eagles, metal caps, and a spool of wrapping leather; custom grip can only be truly custom when you make them yourself. Snagging some holsters, I argue mentally between thighs and sides, before just getting both; no point wasting time. Then for knifes, I grab a classic butterfly, before grabbing some more practical Damascus hunting daggers that were lightweight so they could be thrown as well.

Nodding at Jimin, I let him take care of the payment as I continued to explore the room for anything else that we might like. Closer to the door, I see a locked cabinet with oddities that most would not look twice at; they sell information. A couple flash drives being bid off, probably filled with some military programs or governmental passwords. I wouldn’t put it pas them to have one or two automatic Trojans with a logic puzzle for those dolts that didn’t know how to use a computer. Then on the far side, something unexpected.

“They say that’s a charm from the Banshee herself.” Jimin, seemingly done with the purchase, came over towards the elevator as the store took care of sending our goods topside.

“The Banshee?” This was one I hadn’t heard before.

“Yeah. She’s an assassin with some sort of moral code apparently when she kills. And she takes or makes charms from each kill to remember them. Morbid, but then again anyone who’s that good ought to have a few screws lose to not go crazy.” He wasn’t wrong.

Even Master had told me it was odd when he saw the charms, but he got used to it. The box of filled bracelets I left with Master, the only thing of personal value that I really owned anymore so my wrists were naked and empty. Yet, the feeling never hit me until now, when I saw the only charm I ever lost (a round mosaic for a contemporary artist who also profited from fakes) for sale. The Banshee name had power and with power comes profit; the betting for the charm already past the million mark.  

“Don’t think to hard. You won’t ever meet her.” Jimin laughed, the kind that came from his belly and was not held back by propriety.

“And you have?” It was a good enough act, lovestruck youngster falling for a power girl he had never even met before.

“Nope. But I want to. Her story sounds interesting enough.” That was the most uncharacteristic thing I had ever heard come out of his mouth.

“Her story,” I snickered, my face trying very hard not to mock him with its expression. “A mafioso and an assassin on a coffee date. That sounds more like the first line of a joke.”

He didn’t respond, but looking back as he pushed me towards the elevator told me he was thinking. The cogs were turning either to make up a lie or to figure out how to put it in words.

“I want to know what made her this way. She is truly someone that does not care, and something must have happened to make her that way.” His voice was quiet and rippling under the surface I could hear some semblance of emotions from him. It was a change, and I let him talk. “Even you can agree with this; we didn’t just wake up one day and decided we wanted to be like this. We went through the ringer and decided that we never wanted to be that low ever again, so we went for the heights.”

“We braved the cliffs and grew wings.” Simple words, but with more meaning that even a full paragraph could hold. He simply nodded in response and the rest of the ride up was silent, each lost in our pasts.

The ride back to the apartment was no different, except for the back piled with our new supplies. Quiet and heavy, not even the driver disturbed us in our thoughts.

The boys were waiting for us when we went upstairs, all cleaned up and hair coiffed to perfection.

“How was it?” Namjoon, objective as ever wanting to make sure the boys hadn’t lost their biggest weapons source because the two of us butting heads.

“Uneventful.” Me, as I turned to the boxes.

“Normal.” Jimin, as he joined the boys on the couch.

“Did you bring us presents?” Taehyung, relaxed as always, stretching his legs on the coffee table as he watched me organize.

I put everything that I had bought for myself in one box, including my harness, a loop of SWAT rope, the extra paracord, and the body suit. The rest was laid out on the floor next to the boxes that Jimin had already organized the others’ stuff into, most likely at the store itself.  

“I bought all of you harnesses and new rope. I suggest getting used to wearing them around and working with the additional weight so break them in to your own comfort.”

Jungkook scoffed, “We have our own already.”

“Of course, you do. But do they have at least a 5-point weight distribution and at lest 10 hold holds for various roping combinations?”

He stayed silent.

“No? Then I suggest you break in the one I got for you or I won’t be responsible for you screwing this up for the rest of them. I didn’t bother holding back with him. Jungkook had started to get on my nerves. I was starting to get the feeling that no matter what I did, I would never get on his good side. I had reached a conclusion; it wasn’t me personally he hated, it was the idea of me; all fun and games when matched with his cold perfectionism. He thought I was stupid and infuriating, I thought the same of him; it worked out.

Walking back to my own room, I could practically hear Namjoon trying to figure out a plan to get me and Jungkook back on better terms. But that would have to wait for another day; I needed to get my stuff together.

Making it back to the relative haven of my room, I unpack and start customizing. First was the guns, taking the leather, I cover both handles in a primitive but more familiar imitation of custom grips, adding in the end the metal cap at the bottom of the grip because if you can’t shoot, you can at least swing. Sure, it does mess with the balance of the gun but you get used to it after a couple years of practice. Next, comes the computer. Booting up, I have never been more thankful for technology and resolve to ask someone to scan the document to upload, but after spending a couple hours with Jimin, I am ready to be alone.

Then again, when does the plan of the universe ever work in my favor? Just as I put away the rest of the gear, keeping the harness out to break in after I relax, I hear a knock on my door.

“Can I come in?” Taehyung. Lovely.

“Sure.” I didn’t bother to try to contain my annoyance, but this was Taehyung we were talking about; he was selectively blind, and deaf for that matter, to the world around him. He heard me say that he could come in but he somehow didn’t hear my annoyance.

He waltzed right in and seated himself on my bed as turned around from my desk. Glancing out the window, I could see the first signs of the evening clouding over the brightness of the day, so it was no surprise that he was dressed to go to work. Silk shirt unbuttoned just enough for anyone watching to get a peak of tanned skin tucked into tight denim. A lone silver chain hanging around his neck and thin rings of the same material making his fingers seem longer than you have ever thought was humanly possible.

Once again, he lounged. Looking back, you have never seen him as anything other than relaxed, except for that one time when you technically broke in so context matter with him. He didn’t even bother taking of his leather shoes which made you scowl.

“Any particular reason you’re hear or is it just to grind my gears?”

“Both, but mostly I have a question for you to answer for me.” He reached for his pocket and pulled out a swatch of white fabric that almost made my heart strop.

“A bandage? You want me to wrap something for you?” I didn’t let it bother me. The bandages I wore were a dime a dozen and he could have gotten it from any mom and pop medical store along the road.

“No I was wondering why you had these. If you’re hurt, that’s not good for any of us see?” Sitting up, he kept waving that bandage in front of me, taunting me like he knew all my secrets, but he didn’t.

“You went through my stuff?” Sighing, I relented. “Should have expect nothing less from a sneak thief. They are bandages for emergencies. I don’t trust for a second that Jungkook still doesn’t want to put a bullet between my eyes.”

“True. You and Jungkook really don’t get along. Though that is to be expected when the both of you have different ways of surviving.” Taehyung was smarter than you, and probably anyone else, gave him credit for. His mouth was working to distract while his eyes watched and learned from the people around him.

I didn’t respond, but I didn’t need to. Even Taehyung seemed to sense that our conversation was over as he left my room with some important parting word. “The most dangerous liars are the ones who give themselves to the lies, body, soul and heart.”

[little-ligi]

Whumptober - No. 4

No. 4 - Caged Fandom - BBC Merlin (Canon divergent - Different first meeting) Wordcount - 1726

Merlin woke with a yelp as a rut in the road made the wagon bounce, his head hitting the bars of the cage. He let out a whimper; he’d hoped the cage had been a bad dream.

He’d been caught by the hunter yesterday, after he’d stupidly used his magic to cut firewood. He should have known better, his mother had always taught him to be more aware of his surroundings and of anybody that might be watching him.

The hunter was taking him to Camelot, the kingdom famed for its hatred of magic and all those who possessed it. The man had laughed that he would be rewarded handsomely by the king for bringing the sorcerer in for execution.

Merlin shivered again, huddling into himself, the bars uncomfortable on his back. The cage bars had a powerful magic of their own, deadening his magic, and supping his strength. He had only been in this cage for one day but already he felt as weak as if he had been caged for a fortnight. The hunter had not given him any food and only the merest trickle of water.

Whistling as he drove the horses forward, the hunter seemed entirely unconcerned that he was driving a young man to his certain death. Eventually he let out a shout of laughter and pointed over the crest of a hill.

“There you are, boy. Your final destination. Death awaits you.” He laughed again.

Merlin craned his neck, ignoring the ache it sent down his shoulders and back. A beautiful city rose above the tree line, white stone turrets reaching into the sky, a large red flag with a golden dragon waving faintly in the wind.

Tears spilled down Merlin’s face, hot and prickly. He brushed them away roughly, pressing his fists into his eyes. It didn’t help the pounding pain in his head.

His hands were chained, ankles strapped down to the floor of the cage. He couldn’t do more than turn his head, resting it against the bars which sent chills down his spine. It was freezing cold, nearly winter and the hunter had taken his jacket and his boots.

He drifted in and out of consciousness until the hunter’s rough voice brought him around again.

“This is Camelot.”

The wagon rolled across the drawbridge into the castle, the horses’ hooves clopping noisily against the cobbled courtyard. Merlin could hear the sounds of swords clashing somewhere nearby, and the bustle of a market. He could hear children laughing.

The smell of fresh bread and fruit made his stomach squeeze painfully. His tongue was dry and heavy in his mouth. He’d give anything for just an apple or a mouthful of water.

The hunter eventually brought the wagon to a stop near an open expanse of grass. A group of men were sparring with swords, some attacking straw dummies, others striking at each other. They came to a halt in their activities when they spotted the wagon and its cage.

A blond man who didn’t look much older than Merlin himself stabbed his sword into the ground and ambled over, his arms folded and a frown on his face. The five other men quickly followed suit.

“And what’s this?” the blond said once he was close enough. He gestured towards the cage with his chin. “You know slavery is banned in this kingdom.”

“This is a sorcerer, sir,” the hunter said, his voice oily and sneering.

“Is my father aware?”

“Your father?”

“The King.”

“Your Highness.” The hunter dropped down from the seat of the wagon, bowing low to the prince, who merely nodded, his lip curled in disgust. He waved a hand and a serving boy ran towards him.

“Tell the king this man wants an audience with him.”

“Yes, my lord.” The servant beckoned for the hunter to follow him and ran off in the direction of the castle.

“Nobody touch him,” the hunter growled towards the men standing behind the prince. “He’s dangerous.” And he followed the servant.

“Dangerous? Doesn’t look like he could hurt a fly.” A man with long dark hair that stuck to the side of his face with sweat wandered closer to the cage, peering up at Merlin. He ran a hand through his hair to push it away from his eyes.

“Gwaine.” A dark skinned man put a hand on the longhaired man’s arm.

“Look at him…” the man implored.

“We’re looking,” said another, also dark haired. He looked deeply disturbed as his dark eyes swept over Merlin, taking in the chains and straps holding him down. Anguish covered his face until Merlin had to look away from him. His own pain was reflected in the man’s face so clearly it made him feel even worse than he already did.

“Sorcerers are evil,” the prince said, he pulled the distressed man away. “He doesn’t need your pity, Lancelot. He’s evil.”

“I’ve seen evil, he’s not it,” the man said, forcefully shrugging the prince’s hand off his arm. He trudged a few yards away, his back to them.

Merlin raised his head to follow the man’s departure, tears streaming down his cheeks again. He avoided looking at the other five men still standing beside his cage. They were all staring at him like an animal caught in a trap.

“Lancelot is often right, my lord,” a very quiet deep voice spoke up. It was the tallest, broadest of the men, muscles bulging on his bare arms.

“Not about this. We’ve seen many sorcerers, Percival, they come in all sizes. They almost always want to hurt his majesty.” This was the last man, tall with long curly blond hair. He had a weary expression, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“But he’s just a boy, he looks barely older than me!” the dark skinned man piped up.

“Baby Ely,” the longhaired man elbowed the dark man in the ribs, grinning. Then his face sobered as he looked again at Merlin.

Merlin tried not to catch his eye, but there was a warmness about the man that drew Merlin’s gaze. He took another step towards the cage, one hand reaching towards it.

“Don’t touch, Gwaine!” the prince snapped. He marched forwards, slapping the other man’s hand down.

“Calm down, Princess, he won’t bite.”

Merlin poked his tongue out to wet his chapped lips.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” he rasped, his voice catching in his dry throat.

The reactions of the men were instantaneous; they clearly hadn’t expected Merlin to speak. The prince sprang backwards, his hands raised, his eyes wide. The tall blond’s hand dropped to his dagger, wrapping instinctively around the hilt as he stepped closer to the prince. The giant and the dark skinned man shared a look, wariness and pity and something Merlin couldn’t place.

The longhaired man frowned and reached up towards Merlin again.

“He’s thirsty. Elyan, get your waterskin,” he said over his shoulder, his eyes not leaving Merlin.

“Get yours,” the young dark man’s frown deepened and he took a step back warily.

“Mine has ale in it.”

The prince glared at him.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Gwaine,” the tall blond said, he looked uneasy, almost guilty as he avoided looking directly at Merlin.

“Why?” the other demanded.

“Because he’s a bloody sorcerer, that’s why!” the prince exploded, grabbing a handful of the longhaired man’s chainmail. He pulled him away from the cage then gave him a solid shove in the chest that sent the shorter man stumbling. “Get back to the bloody field.” He clicked his fingers at the giant of a man, who took the longhaired man around the chest and half dragged half carried him away across the field.

“Elyan, go,” the tall blond gave the dark skinned man a light push. He ran off after the other two. “What about Lancelot?”

“Leave him to brood,” the prince said. “Thank you, Leon.” The tall man bowed his head and turned towards the field as well.

The prince stared up at Merlin for a second, conflict warring across his face, before he frowned and turned to go.

“Please…” Merlin managed to gasp out.

The prince froze, his shoulders tense. He didn’t turn around but he sighed and dropped his head into his hand.

“Sorry,” he muttered then ran to the others.

Merlin slumped back against the side of his cage, weak sobs shaking his chest. For the briefest moment he had let himself hope. He scrubbed at the tears on his face, the chains around his wrists digging into his skin at the movement.

Soon the hunter would be back, with an execution warrant from the king no doubt. And that would be it.

“Here,” said a quiet voice behind him. He jumped, scuffling around on the dirty cage floor to see kind dark eyes watching him steadily.

It was the man who had stormed away when the prince called Merlin evil. He was holding a waterskin up, squeezing it through the bars near Merlin’s hand.

Merlin took it gratefully and tipped it to his lips. It was icy cold, like the weather around them, but it soothed his lips and tongue. It tickled as he swallowed and he coughed and spluttered, some of the water trickling down his chin.

“Easy,” the man said as Merlin wiped his chin with the back of his hand. He took a smaller sip.

“Thank- thank you,” he rasped, trying to smile.

“My name is Lancelot.” He smiled back.

“Merlin.”

Lancelot glanced over Merlin’s shoulder, over to where the prince and his men had gone back to hitting each other with swords. The sound of the clashing metal was echoing in Merlin’s head, making the muscles all down his back tense.

“Do you deny that you’re a sorcerer?” Lancelot asked quietly.

Merlin gulped and looked away from his questioning eyes. “No. I have magic, I was born with it.” Another tear slipped down his cheek, teetering on the edge of his jaw. He swiped it away. “But I would never use it for evil.”

Lancelot sighed. “I believe you.”

Merlin’s head shot up, sending a jolt of pain down his neck that he ignored. He stared at Lancelot. There was no malice in his eyes, he truly meant what he said.

“I’ll get you out of there,” he whispered.

[magnolia-penn]

Future Vision Chapter 2

DIO? God?

Oop- sorry this took so long. It took me forever to write and I had no motivation to type it all from my notebook.

Also, brownie points to whoever finds the Avatar: The Last Airbender reference.

Warnings: Swearing (so much swearing), Spoilers (sorta), mention of death (no one important) lemme know if I missed anything

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"31 years!" Polnareff shouted in disbelief.

"Apparently." You shrugged, already over it.

The men were flabbergasted about your current predicament. Stands were a fairly new concept and to think that there was a Stand strong enough to pull you from the future, breaking all sorts of time and space laws? You'd have to be crazy!

Yet… There you were, completely adapted to the strange situation. You were thrown almost double the amount of years you existed and all it took was a quick scream session behind a sand dune for you to calm down? 

"You seem so startled. Stands have crazy abilities. My friend, Magnolia, works alongside a mafia boss with the ability to create infinite life and make it so you can never truly reach death!" You pumped your fist in the air in excitement. "Time travel doesn't seem that far out. My Stand isn't too terribly special, especially compared to some of the other Stands I've seen, but it's pretty cool."

The group's confusion settled deeper as you went on a tangent about future Stands that your friend has described from her time working at the Speedwagon Foundation. You used words that didn't make sense, phrases they didn't understand, but your growing excitement caused them to nod along with you.

"OH! And Stands can be upgraded! Although we do-" You cut yourself off suddenly, eyes zoned out.

You didn't say anything, just stared into the endless expanse of sand and heat. It was Kakyoin who spoke up first.

"Y/n? Are you alright?"

You snapped out of your trance with a start. "I FORGOT TO FEED MY FISH SHIT SEND ME BACK!"

Your sudden outburst sent Polnareff jumping back into Mr. Joestar, your attention dragged to him as his face dropped from confusion to somber defeat.

You picked up on the nervous weight shifts and glances away. You tried to look back at the man who brought you here, only for Mr. Joestar to clear his throat, bringing the attention back to him. He fumbled with his words a bit, trying to justify the shift in attention, but he ultimately failed.

"Oh ho no, I see what's going on," You said after Mr. Joestar gave up on trying to explain. "This fuck-" a pointed finger towards the corpse behind you, "was my only ticket back to the future?"

"Well no. Technic-" You cut the older man off.

"'Uh well no'," you mocked. "Lemme guess, he would've been the easiest way?"

"Now, Miss Y/n, there is no need to be so aggressive. I'm sure we can figure everything out. Our enemy, DIO, has a lackey-" 

You cut Avdol off as well.

"DIO? God? In Italian? What kind of narcissist names their kid 'God' in Italian?"

You gave a snort before falling into a fit of mocking laughter. Your humor was short lived, though, as Jotaro finally spoke up. Or shouted I guess.

"Can you shut up? Good grief, all you do is yap! God, all you women are the same."

You stopped your laughter to stare at the teen clad in black, sizing him up. It was a tense couple of minutes, an unstoppable force and an unmovable object locked in a stubborn standoff.

After a bit, you let out a chuckle and let your head fall back to face the sky.  You watched the clouds for a second before sighing.

"You know, Joots," You catch him visibly tense from the nickname. "I see why you become a marine biologist in the future. The ocean is powerful and terrifying. It's been like that from the beginning. My friend often describes me like the ocean, although, unlike the tides, who have decided to kill you millions of years ago," You bring your hand up near your face before clenching it into a fist, shimmering from the effects of your Stand. "I still haven't made up my mind."

Jotaro's face turns sour in fear for a split second before returning to the default steely glare. You watched in amusement as his Stand began to manifest, but the hesitation you saw in the purple being's eyes told you all you needed to know.

Jotaro was, at the very least, cautious of you.

But also curious.

You managed to make full contact with Hierophant Green, something no one can do unless a Stand is initiating the contact. Kakyoin also couldn't see you, so how could it've climbed up you? Stand don't act on their own violations.

You also mentioned the future Jotaro. He becomes a marine biologist? And one famous enough to be known by teenagers? Jotaro can't even name a famous marine biologist.

He figured killing you know would be disastrous, there was still much to learn from you. Maybe you held knowledge that once came with hindsight.

"Nice to see we're in agreement." Jotaro gruffed out, allowing Star Platinum to fully dissipate.

A small smile graced your features as you extended the same hand you threatened him with.

"Well then, a truce. Until we decide to kill each other." 

Jotaro nodded and took your hand, allowing a handshake to secure your mortalities.

For now.

"MON DIEU! I THOUGHT SHE WAS DEAD!" Polnareff wailed suddenly, startling the group.

Tension rolled off all of you as Avdol let out a sigh of relief. "I am quite surprised you are alive as well. Not many people can insult Jotaro and walk away intact, Y/n."

You chuckled and waved off the man's concern. "I may only have six brain cells, but I'm not stupid. He wouldn't do shit. Not without knowing what I can do."

"Is that so?" Jotaro let a small smirk slip out. It's hard not to grin when you were acting stupid.

You nodded and hummed in agreement. "I like to think I'm good at reading people."

Jotaro only scoffed and rolled his eyes, although there was an inset glimmer of amusement deep with those cerulean orbs.

"So what exactly does your Stand do?" Mr. Joestar asked the elephant in the room.

"Hmm? Oh, my Stand. Okay, so, here's the thing. My Stand is actually really weak." You confessed.

"My Stand, Chemical Romance, is only really good for getting info from people. I'm often called in to the Speedwagon Foundation to help with interrogations. My Stand allows me to talk to and understand other Stands. All those unintelligible noises your Stand makes are actually your soul trying to communicate, and Chem translates them for me. Even silent Stands or Stands with no humanoid form." You glanced at Mr. Joestar. "I can also touch and interact with them, like I did for Hierophant Green. Also, and we think this might just be a radius effect, but Stands become more sentient around me. They think for themselves."

And….. just like that you lost them. It's hard to understand  such complex Stands when all they know is Many Punch, Tasteful Nudes, French Sword, Fire Bird, and Shiny Rock.

"So… You can't actually follow through with your previous threats?" Kakyoin asked cautiously.

"Excuse you! Just who in the hell do you think you are? I am a whole ass person shaped can of whoop ass and no weak ass Stand or Death Parade wannabe looking ass is going to beat me!" You pumped your fist in the air again.

"Whew- That's the sort of can-do attitude our team needs." Mr. Joestar chuckled. "Wait, that wouldn't be a bad idea!"

"Oh ho? Does the great Joseph Joestar have an idea? Careful, Old Man, thinking can hurt ya." You joked.

"No no no no no hear me out. You need to get back to the future, we need to stop DIO from murdering everybody and taking over the world." Mr. Joestar explained. "We both have to get to Cairo for DIO! Join us! You and your Stand are really useful!"

Surprise crossed your face before slipping back to its usual cool façade.

"Nah, I was kind of digging the idea of shriveling up dead in the desert. Although~" you drawled. "I guess, if you're so desperate for my help. It would be immoral for me not to help you, you're so old, even thinking about fighting DIO is going to trigger a heart attack."

You snorted out a laugh and Mr. Joestar did chuckle a bit before you realized something.

"Sooo. Who exactly DIO? Other than some bitch who wants to take over the world." 

As quickly as a light flicking out of existence, the once humorous and airy atmosphere of the group became tense and tragic. The utter rage, disgust, and hatred for this mysterious man was palpable. Even the fun and boisterous Jean-Pierre Polnareff extruded murderous intent.

"DIO is a very bad man." Avdol broke the silence, but found himself unable to say more.

"Thanks for the life lesson, Dad," you spit sarcastically. "No. Who is he and what might he have done to sound so familiar."

"DIO is a monster that was created by greed and a lust for power. He is a vampire who ruthlessly slaughtered those who took him in when he was orphaned at the age of twelve." Mr. Joestar explained grimly. "He rejected his humanity to become something monstrous and immortal, but even now, that wasn't enough for him."

"He's notorious throughout the Speedwagon Foundation, whose founder fought him a hundred years ago. I wouldn't doubt it if his story still circulated in your years, Y/n." Avdol completed.

"All of us are here now because of DIO. Polnareff and I were under his control because of a flesh bud, Advol was almost conned into the same situation, and Jotaro's mother, Joseph's daughter, is under attack by her own Stand because it was forcibly awoken by him." Kakyoin said, then shot you a soft smile. "And I guess you as well."

"Oh yeah! Eli did mention they were looking for a girl who could strengthen DIO's Stand, so I guess he is why you're here!" Polnareff's smile returned to his face at the prospect of making a new friend who was in the same boat as them.

"Y'know, think back on it, I do vaguely remember my friend mentioning your mom, Joots." That damned nickname again. "Stand Sickness is what we call it now. That might be where I know DIO from." You shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "Anywho, now that that's settled, can we get out of the desert? I'm roasting to death."

"Oh! Of course! We have to get to the next town before nightfall anyways. To the car!" Mr. Joestar cheered.

You all piled into the three rowed vehicle. Jotaro and Polnareff sat in the way back, you and Kakyoin sat in the middle, with Mr. Joestar and Avdol occupying the front.

The road to the next town was filled with fill ins. They explained how they came together and how they defeated their foes that found them at every turn. You spoke of how the world has changed and advanced. You showed them your music and all the apps on your phone. You found that you were still connected to your home wifi at full strength, but you couldn't comment or post anything. All true contact to those in the future was cut off, but you could still consume media.

As the dust and corpse was left behind, you could feel the newly forged bonds between you and the men around you strengthen and grow, becoming more entangled and intertwined. And you felt happy about it.

[faofinn]

Ok, Who Had Natural Disasters On Their 2020 Bingo Card? - Whumptober Day 27

@whumptober2020

Christmas was, unsurprisingly, one of Finn’s favourite times of year. Alongside the food and social side of it - Fao had often managed to get leave - there was also the childish excitement of presents. The fact it was his birthday only made things better.

They often stayed at Fao’s house, the brothers going down a few days before to get things set up before their parents joined. Finn loved it, time alone with his brother was a rarity (not that he resented Jess or Ely’s presence) and having the place to themselves was just an added bonus. Despite the whole place and multiple bedrooms, Finn still ended up in Fao’s bed, often dragging his duvet in before they’d even unpacked.

It had been a cold winter, the snow already lying a few inches on the ground. Sleet and hail had battered them as they’d driven down, ominous and foreboding. Inside though, they’d soon started a fire, getting it set up and roaring as they waited for the house to warm up.

They’d had an easy night, the pair only heading to bed in the early hours of the morning. As usual, they’d snuggled together, Finn’s curled into Fao’s side and watching the flurry of snow out of the window. The wind hadn’t let up, howling as it battered the house, almost rattling the windows.

Fao fell asleep first, exhausted and more than slightly tipsy. Finn stayed awake for a little longer, letting Fao’s heartbeat softly lull him to sleep, trying to focus on that instead of the storm outside. It took a while, but eventually followed, arm draped over Fao’s chest and tucked under Fao’s duvet.

When morning broke and Fao’s alarm rang out, neither brother moved. There was an uninviting chill to the air outside of their duvets and both snuggled closer.

“Mornin’.” Fao’s voice was still rough with sleep and he cleared his throat. “Sleep well?”

Morning.” Finn echoed. “‘s cold.”

“Yeah? You’ve got all the blankets.”

Finn grinned sleepily. “Yeah.”

“You’re always cold. Spare a thought for poor old me and my ancient bones.”

“Yeah.” Finn pulled the duvets closer. “At least you admit you’re ancient.”

“Am compared to you.”

He laughed. “Nah, just ancient.”

“Sure, sure.”

"True."

“Can we stay here all day? I don’t wanna move.”

“Neither do I. I just want to stay snugged.”

“Yeah. When’s Mum coming up?”

“We’ve got a few days.”

“Don’t have to move then.”

"We have to get the house sorted. And I want to make a snowman."

“You'll freeze your balls off.”

“I’m not going to be naked.”

“You're always cold.”

"Indoor snowman?" Finn joked, pushing his hair out of his face. "Are you gonna go make breakfast?"

Fao huffed. “Whilst you stay all warm in bed?”

"Yeah. Go on." He wriggled, pulling his knees up and pressing his feet to Fao's back.

Fao yelped, but dragged himself out of bed, throwing on a hoodie. It was absolutely freezing, which had been fine under the duvet and blankets but not now he was up. He slunk off to throw something together for breakfast, using the opportunity for a smoke. He didn't make it fully outside, but he at least had the back door somewhat open. Tomas and his dad had smoked in the house, so he wasn't exactly bothered by it, but he doubted Finn would appreciate it. He made tea and started on pancakes, and called up the stairs to his brother. 

“Finn! I've made tea and I'm about to cook pancakes. Get your fat arse down here!”

Oddly enough, there was no response. Usually Finn was all too eager for food, claiming he was still growing even in his early twenties. Everyone had doubted that, but when he'd suddenly shot up and grew several inches, he took them all by surprise. 

Even asleep, Fao's calls would usually rouse him, especially when it promised food.

The silence really did worry him, and Fao took the pan off of the heat before he headed upstairs, fearing the worst. He hoped Finn had just fallen asleep and hadn't heard him - the house was big, after all - but there was always the other possibility. 

Of course, things couldn't be simple. Finn was buried under the duvets and posturing. He wasn't breathing.

“Fuck.” Fao muttered, dragging the duvet back. “Finn?”

His younger brother groaned slightly, his muscles contracting and staying tense.

Fao rushed closer, kneeling on the bed beside him. He clearly wasn’t breathing, body tense and stuck. He swore under his breath, half English half Gaelic, and hurriedly looked for Finn’s meds. The blister pack in the bedside drawer was empty and he had no idea where Finn had put his supply. 

He tried to check his phone too, and of course there was no signal. Stupid fucking countryside. Weather didn’t help either. 

“Fuck’s sake Finn, you never bloody make things easy, do you?” He swore at his brother. Where were his bags? He’d probably buried his meds in there. But did he have time? It was that or nothing. He had barely any kit anyway, they were fucked without hospital. And especially fucked without midaz. 

He finally found Finn’s stuff, and his meds. Thankful the packet was full, he fumbled to get the dose out. It hurt him to see Finn like this, it wasn’t fair. Nothing had set him off, nothing had changed. 

His midaz didn't change anything, Finn continuing to seize despite them. Sweat collected on his brow and there was a blue tint to his lips as he forced his head back into the bed. He couldn't keep it up much longer.

Fao swore again. He'd not even shown a flicker of resolving, just as tense and slipping into cyanosis. He grabbed a second dose of midaz and gave it, though he knew he shouldn't. He had no other choice, Finn wasn't breathing anyway. What harm was it going to do? Couldn't exactly make things worse. He needed far more resources than he had. And he needed to not be in a freezing cold house in the middle of a snowstorm. 

The second dose finally did something, Finn's body finally relaxing and his chest able to rise and fall. It took a moment for him to breathe, exhausted and sore. He still wasn't with it, his body barely functioning anyway, but he continued to breathe heavily, trying to resolve his hypoxia. 

Finn wasn't the only one breathing heavily. Absolute relief washed over Fao as his brother took that first proper breath, and he sat there for a good few minutes with his hand on Finn's chest, feeling the rise and fall. 

It occurred to him then that Finn's phone might have service. He was reluctant to move, but he could see it on the other bedside table, and scrambled up to get it. One tiny bar. It was enough, it had to be. 

Hands shaking with adrenaline, he called for help. But the weather was getting worse, and he had no idea if they'd be able to get to them. 

"Emergency. Which service?"

“Ambulance.”

"Ambulance. Is the patient breathing?"

Fao was back with Finn on the bed, his free hand on his chest once again. “He is now.”

"Is the patient conscious?"

“No.” Fao took a slow, deep breath, trying to fight the rising fear. 

"Okay. What's your address?"

Fao gave it. “He’s had a bad seizure, wasn’t breathing for a decent amount of time. He’s had to have a double dose of midazolam just to stop it. I’m a doctor but he needs a hospital.”

“Okay, I’ve arranged an ambulance, help is on its way. He is breathing now, right? I need you to keep an eye on that and let me know if anything changes.”

“He’s breathing.”

“That’s good. Does he have seizures normally? Is he epileptic?”

“He is, but this was worse than his normal.”

“Alright, thank you. How long was this seizure?”

“I didn’t see it start. He looked like he’d been going for a while, so I gave the first midaz after a minute. It was a lot worse than normal, and the midaz didn’t make any difference at all, so I gave him another minute or so and gave the second dose.”

“So he’s had two doses of his midaz? And he would only normally have one?”

“Yeah. The two is his ‘worst-case scenario’ plan.”

"And the second dose has helped?"

“Yeah.”

“Good. Keep an eye on his breathing for me."

“I am doing.”

"That's good. You're doing really well. The ambulance is on its way, but the roads are very dangerous right now so they may take a little longer."

“Yeah, I guessed as much."

"Sorry, we are trying our best."

“No, it's okay. We're pretty rural, that weather’s shit.”

"Yeah, the service isn't too great either."

The line crackled and Fao gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I-” The phone cut out and he swore. Had the signal cut out? Pulling it back from his ear, he realised the phone had died. Fucking Finn and his inability to charge his phone. Fao nearly threw it across the room, frustrated. Now they were even more fucked. He moved to plug it in, and then the lights flickered and died. 

Fucking power was out. 

He went back to his brother, moved him into his lap and stroked through his hair. “I've got you, Finn. You're okay.”

Finn made a quiet noise, lip turning up in a slight smile. He liked the contact, registering somewhere deep down, and Fao was warm against his back.

“That's it, I've got you.”

He was already gone, breathing for himself but exhausted. His breathing had started to even out, though there was a tinge to his lips.

Fao let him rest. He wasn’t anywhere close to out of the woods, but he was breathing for himself and seemed to be relatively stable, despite the double dose of midaz. He leaned back against the headboard of the bed, his jaw tense. How the hell were they going to get out of this one?

Finn stretched out, screwing his face up. Everything hurt and he wasn't sure why. He fidgeted with his feet, rubbing his fluffy socks together.

There was a brief flash of panic in Fao as Finn stretched out, his back arching, before he realised it really was just a stretch. Sighing heavily, he rubbed his arm. “Hey, you’re alright.”

He fought against the heaviness, forcing his eyes open. Fao. A lazy smile graced his face as he let his eyes close again, relaxing against Fao.

“That’s it, get some rest. I’ve got you.”

 Content, Finn let himself sleep again (not that he had much choice). The bed was comfy enough despite his aches, and the drugs only helped lure him under. 

With the power out, the heating wasn’t working properly. The room began to chill off quickly, and Fao shivered. He knew he couldn’t leave Finn, just in case, and so had to make do with the heavy blankets on the bed. It wasn’t perfect, and in an ideal world he’d get the fire going again, but Finn was far too heavy and content in his lap. 

Finn protested at the weight, trying to wriggle out and crying out as he moved. It was cold, and the weight on him was only colder. He pressed closer to his brother, his pjs damp and sticking to him.

“Hey, it’s to keep you warm, you daft shite.” Fao said good naturedly. “Give it a minute, you'll warm up.”

He didn't want it. Why didn't Fao understand? He kicked out, twisting away from it.

“Alright, alright. No blankets? Fine. I'll keep them for me.” He grumbled, draping it over his shoulders instead. “You can freeze.”

Without the attention, he quickly lost his fight, mainly forgetting what he'd been fighting against. He shuffled about a little as he struggled to find a comfortable position. 

“Just try and sleep, you're okay.”

Finn slept until he woke himself shivering. His eyes flicked around the room, trying desperately to focus.

“It's okay, you're okay. Just cold, let's get you warm.” Fao murmured, draping the blanket from his shoulders over his brother. “That's better, hmm?”

He frowned, trying to push it away. He wanted Fao, not his blanket. 

“It's to keep you warm, Finn.”

"No."

“Yeah, just a blanket.”

He groaned, pushing it off. Nothing was focusing or falling into place and the panic only rose. 

"Off."

“You’re alright, it’s okay.” Fao reassured. 

How could it be alright? His face screwed up as tears fell, clumsily raising a hand to scrub at his eyes.

“Hey, hey. You’re okay Finn, I’ve got you.”

“Cold.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a blanket here for you?”

“No. You.” Finn finally looked at Fao, frowning. 

“I’m here, yeah.”

A small smile made its way to his lips. “Hug?”

“Hug and blanket, yeah?”

“You.” He murmured sleepily, trying to push himself up onto Fao.

Fao wrapped his arms around him, aware his brother was freezing cold. With no power and the weather getting worse, he had no idea how long they were going to be stuck. Finn needed a hospital, but now the phone had died who knew how long it would take for an ambulance. If they even got one at all. 

[overlordofawesomeness]

A Man for Himself (Norton xEli)

Genre: Romance, Thriller, Horror, Fantasy

Rating: R-18

Pairing: Norton x Eli | Prospector X Seer

Chapter Trigger Warning/s: N/A

Chapter 3

Darkness. Norton opened his eyes only to witness himself surrounded by darkness. The candle on his helmet barely provided light. It didn't do much of a help. However, upon examining his surroundings, he's able to identify his current location. He's inside a tunnel. And it wasn't an ordinary tunnel. This was the site where the tragedy had taken place.

His chest tightened. Suddenly, Norton felt claustrophobic. He's aware that this was merely a dream, but everything seemed real to him. He could feel the rough floor underneath his boots, the way it ground against his sole as he walked. The air felt damp and smelled like mud, like he was inside an unstable man-made cave that could collapse any second due to heavy rain. They were all too familiar sensations to him.

The tunnel seemed to go on endlessly whichever way he went. He tried to keep himself calm despite having a hard time breathing. Panicking would only burn whatever remaining oxygen he had around him. But then again, this was supposedly a dream. Dreams couldn't hurt him.

After a while of walking, the miner began to pick up his pace until he found himself running at full speed as if something sinister was after him. He dared not look back, afraid to confirm his imagination and be devoured by his fear. Running felt like an eternity to him until he tripped over a rock and fell. Or at least that's what he thought it was. He was out of breath, so he could only manage a soundless gasp when he realized that he'd fallen on a pile of decomposing bodies, their foul smell making it harder for him to breathe. Those were the corpses of the miners.

Norton picked himself up, but he slipped and fell as soon as he got up. He staggered back in panic, a scream he never imagined he'd ever make escaping his throat and echoing throughout the lonely tunnel. As he was trying to process everything, the burn scars on his face and body began to hurt as though they were fresh.

"You belong with us, Norton," said a voice in his head, sounding like it came from the abyss. "You should've died with us."

The miner began shaking, his hands gripping his head as if the action would get rid of the voice all the while kicking at the undead corpses that were starting to crawl towards him.

"No! Leave me alone!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, trying to push the bodies off of him. "It was an accident!"

Yes, it's all an accident.

A corpse that had gaping sockets for its eyes managed to get on top of him and sit on his chest, squeezing the remaining air out of his lungs. In its bony hands was a large chunk of stone. It raised the stone in the air and was about to smash it onto his head when he managed to pull himself back to reality and wake up with a strangled scream.

Norton was drenched in sweat, his hair disheveled and his eyes wide in shock. The dream was over, yet his heart still beat so fast that it almost wanted to escape his ribs. Taking a few deep breaths, he ran his hands over his face and looked to the window. The light shone through its heavy white curtains, illuminating the entirety of the room. Somehow it gave him a sense of safety and security. It's good even though it's false.

"Had an eventful night, eh?"

Norton searched for the source of the voice and spotted the same gray-haired male from last night sitting in his bed across from his. He wouldn't have noticed his roommate's presence if he hadn't said anything.

"Who are you again?" the prospector inquired, blinking away his sleepiness.

"Your resident embalmer," the other responded as he secured his gloves. He seemed to be getting ready to leave. "Your teammates for today came over. They said they wanted to eat breakfast with you before the match," he continued. "I'm Aesop, by the way. I prefer working in peace, so I hope you won't be making noises in your sleep again." He stood up and picked up a case from his bedside table. "Norton, right? Stop living in the past. You're attracting Death. Don't make the same mistakes again."

He never left any room for Norton to respond. He walked out as soon as he finished his quick introduction. Norton figured his roommate wasn't a fan of social interaction. Not like it mattered.

Still groggy from his nightmare, the miner didn't want to waste time overanalyzing Aesop's ominous words. He stood up and took a towel from his drawer. A shower would help on clearing his head.

* * *

"Good morning, Mr. Campbell!"

Norton wasn't expecting himself to be invited to a morning tea party when he was told to meet his teammates. There was a stone pavement outside the manor house that led to a large pavilion. A few tables were set up and one of them was occupied by three women wearing fancy clothing. He felt a little underdressed with his dark green button-down and trousers.

The one who greeted him was a brunette wearing a blue hat, a frilly white blouse and a billowy skirt that was just as frilly. Her green eyes shone bright with her cheery smile. Her spirit seemed too high for someone who would be participating in a deadly game.

"Take a seat, please," she invited, standing up from her seat and pulling an empty chair for him, which he found surprising.

So polite. He gladly took the seat and smiled at the expecting faces.

"I'm Emma." She offered her hand and sat down. "And these are Helena and Martha. We'll be your teammates for today."

Norton shook the brunette's hand and scanned the faces of the two other women. One of them was a redhead, wearing a pink hat that resembled a cake with wafer sticks on top of it. Her dress was of the same shade with a mix of pastel green and had frills and ribbons. Overall, Norton had to admit that she's adorable and eye-catching especially when she tried pouring tea into empty air next to a cup in front of her. Hot water was about to spill from the pot when the woman next to her guided her hand in the right direction.

Helena giggled softly. "Oops. Sorry."

Norton didn't notice it earlier; but upon closer look, the girl appeared to have glassy eyes behind her round glasses. She's blind, and the stick that resembled a long lollipop resting against her chair was her cane.

How could a blind person join this game? How could she even decode those machines?

As if sensing his doubt, Emma scooted over and whispered, "Don't worry. Her blindness does not stop her from being an outstanding decoder. She's fast. But, of course, we need to protect her. And that's why we have Martha."

The miner turned his attention to Martha, a well-built woman with a curly side ponytail. Her hair seemed to have been dyed blue to match her clothes. She's wearing a white blouse with frills and a long white pencil skirt with blue stripes. Unlike the two girls, Martha had an air to her that made her different. Perhaps it's the pistol that sat next to her teacup. She seemed to radiate an aura of power and authority. A leader.

Still, Norton wondered why they were all dressed up for a party and why he wasn't given any notice.

"I'll do my best to keep everyone alive." Martha smiled in Helena's way, but the ginger wasn't aware of it. "Especially Helena. We can't lose her, so I'm counting on you to protect her." She faced Norton. "And you. I've heard that you've done a great job on your first match. Don't let us down."

Norton nodded and took a bagel from a woven basket at the center of the table. "I'm not promising anything, but I'll do my best."

He would never promise anything.

Eventually, he started to relax in his seat, enjoying the taste of pastry and sweetened tea. He might as well take his sweet time since he might not be able to get the chance to do it anymore after this.

"Good morning, Mr. Clark! Good morning, Mr. Subedar!" Emma stood up from her seat and waved her hands wildly in the air.

Norton's eyes followed the direction where the cheery girl was looking and found Eli and his grumpy buddy walking their way to the pavilion. Like the girls, they seemed to have received the notice to dress in eye-catching clothing.

Eli was wearing a gold-trimmed robe in a lighter shade of blue. It had patterns that resembled constellations. As if to complement him, Subedar was wearing formal clothes of the same shade. A suit with a hood and ruffles. On top of that, his hair seemed to have been dyed blue as well to match them.

"Aren't they just perfect?" Emma sighed dreamily, her eyes glued to the two men. "I had a chance to be on the same team with them before. They're amazing."

Eli waved back and smiled in their direction momentarily before turning his attention back to Naib. They were headed to a vacant table. Naib didn't seem to like when Norton looked at them as he shot daggers his way and moved to block the view of his partner.

"Hey, Emma." Norton took a sip from his cup. "Who's that guy with Eli?"

He'd already heard about Naib from Eli, but he didn't really know much about him except for the fact that he obviously didn't like Norton.

"That's Mr. Subedar," Emma answered. "He used to be a mercenary from what I've heard. He doesn't really interact with anyone that much except with Mr. Clark. They're always together; so if you want to know more about Mr. Subedar, you may need to ask Mr. Clark himself."

"I see." Norton nodded slowly.

Is he seeing me as a threat to their bond? Now that makes things more interesting.

Two more people joined the two men: William and a woman sitting on his shoulders. She was wearing a headdress that resembled the horns of a goat.

"Is that Fiona?" Norton asked, remembering the name from a conversation he'd heard from the previous night.

Emma nodded. "Ah, yes. Ms. Fiona Gilman."

"She's pretty," the miner commented, studying the woman's features.

Fiona had her red hair tied in a single side braid. She's wearing a purple hood over a black dress that had slits on either side that were too high Norton wondered if she was wearing any underwear. William had to be a saint to be able to endure that.

"Yes, she is," Emma agreed. "Makes us wonder why Mr. Clark still hasn't asked her out yet. We've been rooting for them since both of them get along really well when it comes to mysticism. You should see them when they talk about their gods. It's like we don't exist to them. But it seems like they're not interested in each other. After all, Mr. Subedar is always keeping Mr. Clark to himself."

"I think I understand why," Norton muttered under his breath. "It's not easy to find someone like Eli."

Eli was a gem. And Norton hated that fact.

* * *

Two cipher machines left. The last time Norton encountered someone from his team was when he saw Emma dismantling a rocket chair near a carousel. After that, he never saw any one of them again.

They were at an abandoned theme park. It's a large walled area that was divided in half by a river. Communication was impossible. He only knew that there were only two machines left since he heard multiple popping sounds. As to who the hunter was or where it was, he had no idea.

Inside a large tent, which he assumed to be previously called Circus Hullabaloo because of the sign outside, he was halfway on finishing a machine when tapping sounds caught his attention. He looked up to see that it was Helena limping towards him. Her pastel pink stockings were soaked with blood. There was a clean cut on one of her legs that seemed to have been made by a sharp blade.

"Help," she gasped, catching her breath.

Behind her was a large creature that resembled a large mechanical spider. Its large body was covered with a filthy rag. There were movements from underneath the cloth which made Norton's hair stand on end. Its legs were a combination of ball-jointed doll hands and large metal blades. What made it more hideous was the head that had a face of a marionette doll. It was terrifying.

Norton stepped out of the way when Helena reached her arms out to him. For a moment, he didn't say anything as if he's trying to conceal his presence from the blind girl. He was determined to abandon her; but in the end, he decided to grab her and lift her in his arms. He could've easily left her there, but it would be too cruel to leave a helpless blind girl in danger. He wasn't that remorseless.

One cipher machine popped. One more left. He had a bleeding girl in his arms, and they were both running for their lives.

>

[multisfabulis]

Clairvoyant Rain

Word Count: 3038

TW: Implied self-harm, implied/referenced past child abuse

Can you believe it's been about a year since I last wrote these two? It's not that I don't have much to write about, I just haven't had the time to do so! Between working on Corona's Shadow, working on the backburner project you'll get to see after I post chapter 2 of "Love's Descent into Madness", and dealing with IRL stuff, RLD has kinda fallen to the wayside. I can't guarantee I'll work more on it but I'll try my best to!

By the way, the reason this fic exists is because I wanted to write soft Luce/Ravi and this song was my inspiration for it!

Read on AO3 | Read on DA | Support me on Ko-fi!

     Ravi tiredly opened his eyes and immediately regretted it. He hoped it would be morning so this wouldn’t happen but alas… It was still dark, the neon lights outside pouring in from the window. He could hear rain pattering on the glass as he looked at the digital clock for the time. In bright red numbers read 2:52 AM. Yep, way too early to be up and he fucking hated it.

     All waking up in the middle in the night ever did was ruin his good night’s sleep and make the alarm he set even more unbearable than it already was. If only he could go back to the days before Eli came and fucked everything up. That’d be really nice but because he’s wishing for it, he’ll never get those days back. He turned over onto his side and closed his eyes, wanting to drift back asleep.

     It was a moment later he heard a thunderous roar. His heart hammered against his chest as he shot up in bed. It took him some time to realize it wasn’t stuff being thrown around but something falling on piano keys from a great height. Luce knew better than to be loud when people were sleeping. Something must be happening if he was banging on the piano with no consideration for others.

     Tossing the covers aside, he hurried over to the door and opened it. He found himself face to face with a sleepy Amelia. She had a minor case of bedhead going on as dark pinkish eyes widened upon seeing him. No doubt on why she was up.

     “You heard that, too, right?” he asked quietly.

     Giving him a nod for her answer, he stepped in front and whispered, “All right, I’m gonna go see what’s going on. Stay behind me and don’t make a single peep.”

     They tiptoed down the hallway and he peeked around the corner. He saw Luce hunched over his piano, running his hands through his hair while muttering nonsense under his breath. He seemed to be frustrated, which was a rare state to see him in. His exclamation of “Damn it!” before slamming his hands down on the keys was further proof of it. Hearing the sudden discordant boom from up close startled Amelia as she nearly blew her cover with a stifled gasp.

     Turning around, he crouched down and put a finger to his lips, whispering, “Go back to bed, I’ll talk to Luce and everything will be fine, all right?”

     She nodded and walked back to her room. He watched her go inside and shut the door before deciding on his next course of action. He had an idea as to what was going on and he didn’t want her listening in on them. A girl her age shouldn’t be exposed to such dark things.

     He carefully made his way across the living room, being as quiet as the wind. He glanced over to where Luce’s knife was and grew worried when he saw it. It was laying on top of its sheath, meaning he took it out for a reason. He hoped it wasn’t the reason he was thinking of but he had his doubts. He sat beside the other man on the piano seat, concerned.

     “Luce?” he called out quietly, searching for his eyes. “Is everything all right?”

     Ruby red eyes met his as he replied in a guilty voice, “Snowbird, I, I’m sorry if I woke you up, I just---”

     “No, it’s fine, I’m just--” he tentatively put a hand on his back in an attempt to comfort him-- “I’m just wondering if you’re okay.”

     “Well,” he began, letting out a scoff, “I thought that if I played music for a little bit, I would stop thinking about the bad memories that just popped up out of nowhere but because my hands are shaking so damn bad, I’m not hitting the right keys and that’s pissing me the fuck off.

     “If my hands could just stop shaking, I’d be able to play, because if I don’t play soon, I’m gonna do something I’ll end up regretting and I don’t wanna do that so…” he trailed off, his voice going from a fever pitch to sounding broken.

     He rubbed his hand over his back, hoping to soothe him. It was then he looked down and his worry deepened into alarm. Luce was vigorously scratching at his arm, which was a canvas full of faded scars over pale white skin. Oh, that was definitely not good.

     He couldn’t let his panic get the best of him. It’d only worsen Luce’s already bad state and it was the last thing the both of them needed. He had to stay calm and try to curb his urge to hurt himself. In a way, this was good, because it meant he hadn’t done it yet, if the lack of blood wasn’t an indicator. He could try and talk him out of it so, if it worked, it’d encourage him to resist the temptation in the future.

     Placing a hand atop his to stop his scratching, Ravi asked, “Why don’t we go back to my room and get your mind off this for a little bit, hmm? Would that be okay?”

     “Yeah, that…might be good,” Luce replied, his breathing shaky.

     He helped him up off the seat and led him through the hallway. He held on to his hand the whole time as a means of keeping him grounded. Even so, he kept a close eye on him to make sure Luce was still in the present. It was after he brought him inside his room he saw some improvement in his condition.

     A quiet calm had replaced whatever anger was left in him. His eyes were no longer glassy and his breathing had steadied some. He was still there, he could reach him and not be met with silence.

     Setting him down on the bed, Ravi knelt in front of him and asked, “Are you feeling better?”

     “A little bit,” he replied, letting out a sigh afterwards. “Snowbird, listen, I’m sorry for making you have to take care of me and---”

     “Hey, hey, hey, none of that, all right?” He reached up to cup his cheek. “You’re not a burden to me, Luce. I know this is a new thing for both of us but I’ll be there for you, okay? Whatever it is, I’ll be there so…remember that.”

     With the ghost of a smile, Luce took hold of his hand and kissed the back of his fingers. His lips curled into a small smile of his own at the display. At least it showed he meant what he said by feeling a bit better. He retracted his hand and stood up with a huff, sitting beside him on the bed.

     “So, do you wanna talk about it?” he asked, leaning forward to see his face.

     Watching the small trace of relief fade away, he quickly added, “It doesn’t have to be about that! It could be about anything you want! Anything that’ll get your mind off that…”

     A huge clap of thunder sounded off in that instant, rattling the whole apartment. The loud boom caused his heart to stop for a split second before resuming. He turned to face the window to see if the power had gone out from that. Nope, the stupid neon signs from across the street were still on so that’s that.

     “Jesus Christ, that was loud. You okay after hearing that, Lu---”

     He turned around to check on him and fell silent. Luce was leaning back on the bed, his eyes closed as if he were listening to the downpour outside. What really stunned him was the expression on his face. He looked…content, no signs of stress or detachment present. Just peace and serenity, things he never thought he’d ever see on him, at least not for a long time.

     “Luce?”

     As if he just remembered he wasn’t alone, Luce straightened up and said, “Sorry, I just got…entranced listening to the rain.”

     “You actually like this shitty weather?” he asked incredulously. No normal person would like this kind of weather. Then again, he’s forgetting that Luce isn’t normal by any stretch of the imagination.

     “I love it, it’s very special to me,” he replied. “Have I not told you this?”

     “No, and we’ve been going out for how long?”

     “Do you wanna know why, then? I think you’ll have somewhat of an idea when I tell you I began to love the rain on that night.”

     It took him longer than it should’ve to realize what he meant. The night he became truly free from his shackles, the night he… That already told him just a hint of the significance rain carried for Luce. He may not have understood why it was so special but it was cruel of him to mock that which he clearly loved so…

     “That night, after I did what I did,” Luce began, a tone of reminiscence held in his voice, “I went outside. I looked up and there were dark storm clouds coming in and before I knew it, it started pouring down rain. The moment I felt those raindrops hit me, I knew…I’d be okay.

     “I had been so numb, numb to everything that touched me. The beatings my father would give me, the kisses my mother would give me, I felt none of it for so long. That rain was the first thing I felt in such a long time and…I cried. I could finally feel something and I was happy, I was…alive. I think, in that moment, the rain washed away not only the blood but my ‘self’. That was when I became Luce.”

     “When you say that, do you mean you weren’t called Luce before?” Ravi asked, confused by his wording.

     “You really think my parents gave enough of a shit about me to give me a name?” he replied with a sardonic smile. “I was called either some of the worst things you’d ever say to a kid or fake pet names. I found the name Lucian when I was 11 or 12 but I only really embraced it when I was 15.

     “Anyway, ever since then, I’ve always taken rain as a sign of good luck.” He laid back on the bed, his arms folded under his head. “If it rains, that means something good will happen.”

     No wonder why Luce liked rain so much. It represented freedom, it made him feel alive when death wanted to take him, it gave him a life. It was hard to say whether it played a role in the two of them crossing paths but the universe was funny like that. Whatever it may be, Luce was here now and maybe it was fate that he woke up to help him through a bad time.

     “So what’s the best thing the rain’s ever brought you?” he asked, curious to know his answer.

     “Hmm…” Luce looked as if he was deep in thought before replying, “I’d say it was meeting you. It was raining the day we met.”

     Feeling heat rush to his cheeks, he attempted to deflect that by saying, “Maybe you should go up to the roof and soak in the rain for a little while because I highly doubt that I’m the best thing rain’s brought you.”

     Without missing a beat, he countered that with, “It was raining the day I realized I loved you, too.”

     “Oh, come on, that’s not even fucking fair!” he exclaimed, his whole face now warm to the touch. “What the hell do I say to argue against that?!”

     Luce’s laughter at his expense made him turn away from him. He really should’ve known better than to degrade himself around Luce. He refused to allow him to believe there was nothing good about him and it annoyed the fuck out of him. He knew it was because he loved him and wanted to prove him wrong but still. It was rather touching to know how far he’d go but he’d never admit that out loud.

     After catching his breath, Luce took hold of Ravi’s wrist and, in a tender voice, said, “I love you.”

     “...I love you too,” he answered back, defeated. Luce knew exactly what to say to put an end to his self-loathing. It was so rare of him to say “I love you” first so of course he’d say it. “Can I kiss you?”

     He sat up, leaned in close, and replied, “Yes.”

     Ravi closed his eyes and bridged the gap between them. Luce parted his lips just a fraction, kissing him back with chasteness. It was a simple kiss that only lasted a few seconds before they pulled away, Ravi exhaling out a breath. He quickly stood up as he shoved down the urge to go in for a second kiss.

     “All right, get the fuck off the bed, I gotta sleep,” he said, stretching his arms up above him. Then he remembered what happened earlier. “You gonna be okay?”

     “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he replied, standing up as well.

     “You sure? If you want, I can---”

     Luce cut him off with a kiss to the forehead. He pulled away with a fond smile on his face and whispered, “I’ll be okay. Go to bed, Snowbird.”

     Guess that was as good an answer as any. He reluctantly crawled under the covers and looked at the clock for the time. 3:43 AM in dull red numbers. God, did they really spend almost an hour just talking about the rain? There went his full night’s sleep but he’d learn to deal with it.

     His eyes wandered over to Luce. He wasn’t sure if it’d really be okay for him to sleep while he might still be in need of help. He seemed to be getting on now but it had only been an hour since everything and there was no telling of the future. In the end, he had to trust Luce to come to him if he needed him. Exhaustion swept over him like a wave and he struggled to stay awake.

     “Goodnight, Luce.”

     “Goodnight, Snowbird.”

     And he was out like a light.

     It was morning when he woke up next. He must’ve overslept because he could hear the sounds of rush hour outside his apartment. His alarm didn’t go off so it must’ve been switched off at some point last night. Good thing Luce did it on the weekend; otherwise, he’d be in a panic, trying to make up for lost time. He attempted to turn over but was stopped by an arm around his waist.

     It was then he found Luce curled up next to him, soundly asleep. He was taken aback by this display. Him being asleep was a rare enough sight on its own but him sleeping beside him on the bed was virtually unheard of. The only other time they were like this was the first night they slept together. He wasn’t able to do it before, due to the circumstances, but he could do it now.

     He brushed strands of hair away from Luce’s face, admiring his beauty. He looked so peaceful, so…vulnerable, an impossibility made real. It’s not like he hadn’t seen other sides of Luce. There was the crooked smile and glint in his eyes when he was playful and the furrowed brow and emotionless voice when he was serious. Yet the tranquil and unguarded Luce before him was like a secret he was finally let in on.

     Was his trust in him so deep, he felt like he could do this with him? It had to be if this was happening and Ravi was…happy. Knowing the kind of life Luce had before meeting him, before he knew what freedom was, he was so glad that Luce was letting himself be like this around him. He wondered if maybe, just maybe, he felt safe while in his presence. If so, then…

     He carded his fingers through dark locks, bringing him in close. He decided to bask in the morning sun with him in the little time he had before needing to get up. He softly kissed Luce’s temple and brought him even closer. Their faces were mere inches apart as he shut his eyes. The last thing he could’ve swore he saw was the corner of his mouth curve up into a small smile.

[ramblinganthropologist]

N7 challenge 18 and 19 - Blue and Substance

Yep, doubling up prompts again... it’s Nano, I’m only human. 

Summary: Extra, extra... Commander Shepard’s gotta engage in some mild censhorship after a tabloid leaks a photo of him imbibing a mysterious substance. Just what is it... and why does it smell like blue raspberry? The hell is the Alliance up to these days? 

---

…

Why did he get the feeling he was being watched by more than just hamsters?

It was probably just a feeling, but Alistair couldn't shake it as he entered Citadel Critters that afternoon.  Normally this was his favorite place on the station, but... well, the walk over from the docks had been unnerving to say the least. If anyone caught sight of him, they stared. A few even whispered, but it was all too low for him to pick up.

Great, who was he fucking now according to the media?

“Good to see you, Al.”

At least Mike looked normal and happy to see him. Alistair was glad for that as he raised his hand in a friendly greeting. That was of course a mistake – from the wrist almost to his elbow he was still bandaged up like a mummy. At least the bandages had stopped bleeding.

Normally medigel would be the thing for this, but the wound type needed healing the old fashioned way. As a medic he understood it... but as a twitchy biotic, it was itchy as hell and he hated every moment of it.

The shopkeeper winced at the sight of him. “Am I allowed to ask what happened there, or is it secret Spectre shit?”

“I got too close to a krogan on Tuchanka and we traded paint. Their bacteria is pretty toxic, so I can't seal it up with medigel.” He shrugged. “Least I didn't break anything. Then that would have to heal the old fashioned way too.”

He was kind of glad that krogan was dead, all things considered. Not just because he tried to kill him, but he tried to kill his nephew during his Proving. Nobody messed with Grunt and got away with it; didn't matter what it was. Shit, he'd taken on a thresher maw for the kid and he still had to go to therapy considering them. If that wasn't proof he liked the guy, nothing was.

But anyway, he was glad that fucker was dead. Asshole.

“Now you're fighting krogan hand to hand? Maybe there's something to that tabloid story after all.” Mike winced as he seemed to bite his tongue. “Shit, I said I wasn't going to ask you about that, it's clearly bullshit...”

…

What was clearly bullshit?

Alistair frowned as he checked his omni-tool, going to a site he knew fairly well. It had been a while since he had checked in with Citadel Daily, but it looked like for the most part they were still behaving. Sure, he wound up there – but they weren't mentioning who he was fucking or anything.

The answer was nobody, by the way, because the universe hated him.

“Well... it's not from Citadel Daily, so I think you're going to have to fill me in.”

The shopkeeper looked uncomfortable as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It's from some smaller paper, but it's kind of gone viral. They ran it in last week's Spec-Check.”

Ah, he'd heard of that. Hell, he'd been in it once or twice. Half the time it was getting censored by the Council for accidentally falling ass first into the truth, and the rest of their stories were so obviously fake that they provided excellent cover. The ones about him had all been fake... but maybe it would explain the stares.

Mike grabbed his datapad from a nearby table and tabbed over to an article he had clearly read a couple times. He wasn't looking Alistair in the eye as he handed it over, and his hand trembled a bit. Clearly, someone was feeling a little guilty...

“What the hell?”

There, in bright font, screamed out “Commander Shepard: Under the Influence of Biotic Boosting Substances?” with a picture of him in armor. His eyebrow zoomed to his hairline as he realized it was taken on Tuchanka. How had he missed a krogan taking a picture of him?

More importantly, who had sold him out and why did he need to tan their hide?

“So this story...” he flicked through. “Implies that I'm on some illicit substance to boost my biotics. They know red sand is a thing, right?”

The shopkeep shrugged. “Keep reading, they imply it's some purified Alliance version they're testing on you. The paper called it blue moon...”

Alistair's vein throbbed as he flipped to the picture. Clear as day, there was a picture of him opening a tube of a obnoxiously colored, bright blue powdery substance and swallowing it down. Judging by the scenery... he had gone after a thresher maw not long after it was taken.

Ok... he could kind of see the hook there, but come the fuck on.

“I told people it was bullshit, the Alliance isn't going to risk its first Spectre on shit like that...” Mike's voice wavered. “But then more pictures showed up.”

Now he really had to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Mind telling me where I can find these guys? I think I need to give them the Citadel Daily special.”

“Is that the part where you toss them out a window?”

No, it was the part where he let Bo threaten someone with defenestration. Problem was that his XO was still back on the Normandy with her adoptive son. They were having a bonding moment after what had gone down on Tuchanka. He was eventually supposed to bring them back snacks, but... well it looked like he had to make a pit stop first.

“We'll see. Now, I gotta get to tracking them down...”

---

Unlike Citadel Daily, the office of Eye on the Citadel was much smaller and in a more run down part of the Wards. Some might have called it seedy, but Alistair didn't care as he got out of the cab and checked his omni-tool. On it flashed the details he needed and had acquired from EDI when he had informed the Normandy where he was going.

“You packing your blue moon, Commander?”

Alistair rolled his eyes as he touched the piece in his ear. “Joker...”

“Sorry, Commander. I know you're touchy about it and all. Just don't throw anyone out a window with your mind.”

Yes, yes he was. Regardless, the Spectre sighed as he approached the front door. The sign said to knock, which he did. He even stepped back, waiting. For a long while, he wasn't sure if anyone was home.

Then he heard the skittering in the background.

“Shit, it's Shepard!”

Someone wasn't very subtle. They were also looking through the peep hole directly at him. Despite himself, he gave a little wave as he waited for the door to open. Whoever was there squeaked, and it sounded like they fell down.

Hopefully they hadn't broken anything before he got the chance to try.

“Hello, are you alright in there? It sounded like you took a nasty fall. I'm a medic if you need some first aid.”

Someone was sniffling behind the door. It was so damn pathetic that Alistair sighed and reached for the doorknob. In a few seconds, his picking program had made short work of the lock. That allowed him to gently twist the handle and open the door.

Just like he thought, there was a person on the floor, holding their ankle with big tears in their eyes. From where he was standing, it just looked like a bad sprain. It was nothing a little medigel and some rest couldn't handle, and luckily he had the first ingredient on hand.

Problem was, the person who had just entered the hallway looked as though he had murdered someone.

“So Commander Shepard breaks and enters on top of consuming illicit drugs.” Their camera was out. “Eli, did he hurt you?”

Alistair's tone was as dry as Tuchanka as he motion to the prone human. “I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure they sprained their ankle falling.”

The man with the camera looked from his partner to his subject a few times. He still took a few pictures before he put it away – note to self, blast that late. A few seconds later, he was helping Eli to his feet – somewhat unsuccessfully. He was way off balance.

“If you do it that way...” He winced as both men went tumbling. “... that's going to happen. Did you break something too?”

Camera man wasn't amused as he tried to free himself from underneath his prone friend. “I'm fucking fine, what the hell are you doing here? You broke in!”

Alistair gestured to the fact he was still on the other side of the door. “I haven't even entered the house yet, good luck proving that.”

Clearly, he was dealing with a real genius. He doubted this was the man who had written the article about him – not enough imagination. Maybe it was his photos, but definitely not his words. That he attributed to Mr. Sprained Ankle, who was still trying to get up on his own power. With his luck, he probably sprained the other one...

Just what he needed, a rescue mission when he was trying to be intimidating.

He sighed and let his anger trickle out. “May I enter so I can administer first aid? You've followed me enough to know I'm a medic.”

“Yeah, a medic tripping balls on blue moon!” Camera man pointed at him. “I saw you take it twice on the Citadel, once with your fucking niece! You have a problem, and I'm going to expose you so people know not to-”

The beeping from Alistair's wrist drew the Spectre's attention. He frowned and flipped it over. A familiar program was warning him that his sugar was currently in the low 60's. If this kept up, he was going to risk really becoming a space cadet.

Talk about appropriate though.

“You're about to see another dose, actually.” He pulled the paper tube from his jacket pocket and ripped off the top. A few seconds later, down his throat it went. All he tasted was sour blue raspberry as it traveled down his throat.

He really hated blue flavors... green apple was where it was at.

On the floor, Eli sniffed. “Is... that candy?”

“Homemade pixie stick mix. It's cheaper than buying the individual tubes.” He tossed Camera Man a packet. “Test it if you don't believe me. Mine's a little more sour than the commercial mix, but it's still basically sugar, citric acid, a little bit of flavor with the color.”

Somewhere, he was pretty sure a thousand 'don't do drugs, kids' infomercials went through both men's heads as they examined the packet. The vein continued to throb as he waited for his sugar to creep back to normal levels. At least it wouldn't take long – he had caught the low fairly early.

It was Eli who took the packet, giving a little bit of the powder a cautionary lick despite his coworker's protests. When his face contorted in the classic sign of sour, the Spectre sighed in relief. Still, it was hard to resist pinching the bridge of his nose.

“He's telling the truth, Sam. It's like a high powered pixie stick.” And then the man wasn't looking at him. “Shit... you've been eating these the whole time, haven't you?”

Alistair held up his wrist, showing the blood meter reading. “Have to or I go into hypoglycemia. It's part of being a biotic for me. So I guess we can say you were kind of right about it being a biotic booster. However, I don't think anyone outside an elementary school classroom is going to call it illicit.”

He at least allowed a smile. “So, you going to let me in now to help with that ankle, or are you just going to live on the floor from now on?”

---

“So, did you throw him out a window?”

“No, and did you want the Cheetos too?”

Alistair could hear Bo groaning on the other end of the line as he picked out snacks for his trip back. He had quite a few – enough to fill the basket. That was understandable, given he was helping to feed a krogan and a high powered biotic. Between the two of them, he wasn't sure who could eat more. Some days it was a toss up.

So he added the Cheetos anyway. If she didn't want them, he'd eat them later.

“You're such a fucking boy scout sometimes, Al. You could've at least fucked with him a little bit.”

The Spectre shrugged his shoulders as he added a few more things to his basket before heading for the self check out. Given the time of day, the store was pretty packed. He still felt eyes on the back of his neck, but not as many as before.

The blog post had gone out while he was checking Eli's ankle. He had been right on the credits about who wrote for that duo...

“I got my retraction, and he learned not to stand on things while you're spying on a Spectre. Everyone walks away happy.”

“Yeah, except the people who bet you'd throw them out the window.”

Well, that was their mistake. After all, he WAS known for being the boy scout. She had said it herself. Though, he knew she hadn't bet on him, though not because she knew him well. Bo wasn't allowed to bet on anything involving him, due to the fact she was usually involved. This was a rare technicality that had kept her out of the pool.

Too bad, she could've cleaned up.

“Who managed to take the pot home?”

“Garrus. He better be taking you on some kind of date with that money when this is over.”

The thought of it made Alistair's face heat as he started scanning things through the self checkout. “Come on... we're not...”

“Not with that attitude. Also, did you get the nuggets? We were going to watch Jurassic Park next, they'd be a good theme snack.”

He sent her a picture of the massive sized bag of dinosaur-shaped nuggets before finishing up. Soon, he was out the door and blending into the crowd as he put his hood up to avoid the lingering gazes. Hopefully with time, it would settle down.

As he headed back to the Normandy, Alistair was glad for one thing... that he hadn't told anyone the thought of throwing someone out a window had crossed his mind more than once as he healed Eli's ankle. That would've probably lost the pool for Garrus, and maybe he was hoping for that date sometime this century.

Well, that and being cleared of being on weird Alliance drugs like a guinea pig. That was good too. But seriously, how the hell had they come up with that? Anyone with a brain in their head knew as a Spectre he technically wasn't part of the Alliance anymore. If they had any neat substances to test out, it would be on people they actually held marching orders for.

Oh well... at least he'd been able to get the green color this time. No more blue moon for him. Maybe he'd keep the name for the blend, though... it was kind of catchy.

[modernagesomniari]

Fic ‘Measuring the Veil’ Part 4!!!

The final part of Measuring the Veil!

I am a bit embarrassingly proud of actually finishing this as I’ve done nothing but oneshots and snippets so far.

Anyways, here we deal with the fall out from Part 3 which left our eli in a rather precarious position. The whole fic is on AO3 here and is part of the Mala Suledin Nadas series.

Solavellan, ~4900 words

PG-13

Part 4 - For Now

There was something coming for her.  It pulsed with light, far away but moving closer.  It was calling her name.  

She couldn’t see anything solid.  There were clouds of grey and shadows of thick trunks around her, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t turn.

She wasn’t alone.

Somewhere in the thick of the trees, a shadow stirred.  Whatever this creature was, it wasn’t made of light like the other, but of darkness and hidden places. These were not the benign shadows that flitted under trees of a summer evening.  These were the dark, cold corners between hacked off chunks of fallen ruins, the damp darkness underneath the aravels where she’d feared monsters dwelled when she was a child.  Images of these things ebbed and flowed in front of her mind as whatever it was shifted towards the advancing light.  A wolf howled soft and forlorn somewhere far from where she hung, but the clouds in front of her eyes shifted like it was calling them.

Then the light was upon her and it had arms that lifted, beckoning her forward and into its embrace.  It spoke with no mouth, its body warm and soft, a breath of heat blossoming on the left side of her chest, almost hot enough to burn.  The wolf howled again, long and slow, but the light called her name and she felt it pulling at the very core of her, ripping her away from this place that didn’t want to let her go.  Again and again it called.  The heat at her chest flared into pain and she felt her body arch, eyes and mouth open in a gasp of sensation that curled her toes and blinded her with light…

…only to fade into sunlight catching on pale crags of rock, her feet almost losing footing on the path.  She staggered to one side, not quite in control of her body, her mind processing what was happening too fast for it to fully reach her subconscious.  She had been shot.  The light was a spirit and she needed to move because it couldn’t survive long outside of the task Solas had set it.  The memory of Varric’s chest being slashed open by a blade seconds after being brought up flashed through her memory, but her body was sluggish and recovering, pain in her chest making it hard to breathe.  She still wasn’t alone.

Something that wasn’t her own consciousness brought her head up in time to see the second arrow, and her arm came up to ward it off.  Like a tear in cloth, the spirit tore itself away from her down her arm and she watched it lose its cohesion, spreading like a wall in front of her to knock away the arrow, another from beside it, a third that followed.  By this time she was shaking her own head to clear it, mind losing the fog and the memory that went with it.  She dropped belly down on the ground, blindly grabbing her fallen staff and taking advantage of the protection to crawl behind the nearest rock and take a moment to breathe.

“Lavellan!” Cassandra yelled from below.  “Herald!”

“Firefly talk to me!”

Eli tried to shout back, but her breath caught painfully where the arrow had pierced her ribs and she had to try twice more before she could call out loud enough for them to hear.  She looked down at her chest, but there was no arrow.  Blood made her shirt stick to her skin, cold and clammy, but she knew without looking that the wound had closed.  Completely closed, unlike what she had seen earlier.  That was new.  Unbidden, the flash of unnatural light in Solas’ eyes after he’d smashed the amulet and the calm satisfaction in his expression came back to her.  The spirit had stayed, been more powerful somehow.

She didn’t quite know how to feel about it so decided not to, peeking around the boulder to see the lay of the land.  It was more mercenaries, assumedly coming to avenge their fallen companions.  She took a moment to wonder whether it had been these archers who had loosed their arrows into the backs of unarmed farmers and let the sneer of anger on her face fuel the fire that travelled down her corded arms to her staff.  The tip of it lit, not with soft light but with rich red, flashing pulses of fire.  She waited one more moment until she heard Cassandra let out a yell that was surely going to draw the attention of anyone within distance, then she rolled out and let loose the flames on them all.

Through the haze of battle and roar of the fire from her hands she started to hear cries of alarm from the mercenaries.  They had clearly assumed that Solas was the only mage and another  making fire leap from the ground at their feet sent the archers into panic.  From her position high on the rise, Eli could see the lie of the battlefield, however, and their chances were not necessarily good.  The mercenaries had come back in force and there was a large man, massive in his armour, stepping with purpose towards Cassandra with a hammer in his hand that probably weighed more than Eli herself.  She called out a warning, trying desperately to keep the archers busy and watching as Varric tried to harry the mercenaries flanking Cassandra’s side, Solas having to dodge and weave between trees as men and women with hard eyes and sharp blades came to stop the torrent of ice flowing from his staff.

The behemoth shemlen got within range of his hammer and went to lift it, hefting it upwards ready to strike.  The lightning bolt hit his armour directly in the back and he froze, his suddenly shaking hands dropping the hammer behind him.  There was a yell of rage from the other side of the group, back towards the road and Eli’s heart soared into a cry of fierce joy as she turned back to the archers.  Mihris had not just made it past the advancing mercenaries, but she’d come back for them.

It proved enough to turn the tide.  A third mage, raining lightning itself down upon them, mixed with ice that froze them to the ground unable to escape the flames - this was more than any company had bargained for.  Cassandra let out a shout of triumph as the archers turned tail and any man that wasn’t engaged with her began to move backwards.  The behemoth, now recovered, started yelling orders, but was stopped short by ice crawling up into his helmet and a bolt that took him through the visor.  He staggered backwards into a number of his colleagues, who dropped their own weapons and began to drag him backwards.  Eli knew they could pick them off now, vulnerable as they were, saw the grimace of rage on Mihris’ face as she advanced, grim determination in the set of Cassandra’s shoulders.  She called a halt.

Mihris and Solas looked up at her immediately, although both let their staffs hang at their sides.  Varric stood his ground beside her and nodded.  If they killed them all now, they would never find where they retreated to.  These men and women would leave tracks, a trail her people could follow back to wherever they hid.  There they could be found, possibly even reasoned with.  She took a breath as she remembered the farmers again.  Most of these people probably had families at home, were doing what they could for the coin.  She could be merciful.  She knew that her actions were informing the world what kind of organisation the Inquisition was.  She couldn’t stop it being associated with the Chantry, but she could make it more than a group of zealots massacring any in their path.

The five of them kept a close eye on the retreating mercenaries as they collected in the dell, Eli freely throwing her arms around Mihris and smiling warmly at her.  Mihris smiled back, nodding.  She would be alright, Eli realised.  Keeper Ista would set her right.  She’d be ok.

“We should tell the scouts we need them to track.  The trail will not stay fresh for long.” Cassandra warned as she came up, wiping her sword on the nearby grass before sheathing it.

“Why not track them yourselves?” Mihris asked.  Cassandra answered before Eli could.

“We are not about to risk the Herald unless we must.  Tracking is something our scouts can do.”

Eli shrugged at Mihris’ questioning gaze, uncomfortable.

“I’ll go now, meet you at the arch.  Want me to introduce you, Crackle?”

Eli had to stifle a smile as she watched Mihris realize Varric was talking to her.  Then she nodded.

“I think you should go with him, Mihris.  Once the scout knows who you are he can direct you to other members of the Inquisition.  They’ll get to the Highway safely.”

“I will go instead.” Cassandra interrupted.  “I wish to speak to them about protecting the road here.”

Mihris still looked a little unsure, but Varric gave her a cheery wave as she left and she smiled weakly back, following Cassandra.  Eli watched them go for a moment before turning to Solas, who was sitting on a large rock wiping blood off his foot.

“That spirit, Solas.”

He looked up at her and then nodded slightly.

“Yes.”

“You couldn’t do that before.”

“No.”

This time, his apparent desire not to elaborate wasn’t enough.

“Did the amulet do that?”

“The amulet gave me the power to enhance the spell, yes.”

“How?”

“Does it matter?  Do you need further aid?”

“No, thank you, I’ll be fine until we get to camp.  And I’m just curious.”

“As someone who does not consort with spirits on the battlefield, I doubt it would make much sense to you.”

That rankled, coming seemingly out of nowhere as it did.

“Try me.  I think I grasped the theories of the artefact in the ruin quite well, what’s wrong with this?”

What was wrong had nothing to do with Eli at all, she realized as Solas gave Mihris’ back a brief glance before looking back to her and shaking his head.  Once she figured out he wasn’t going to answer she moved closer to him, sitting down just when he was about to stand.  He paused.  “You said you were glad that she hadn’t got the amulet for herself, that she would have used it badly.  What were you afraid of?”

“I was not afraid.  What she does with her magic is no concern of mine, although it is always disappointing to see one’s suspicions constantly confirmed.”

“What suspicions?  Of whom?”

He looked over at her, a short frustrated sigh leaving his mouth.  He paused again and something in her gut told her that he was busy deciding whether to fight with her or not.

“The Dalish see spirits in a very simplistic way, although they would say their views are vastly superior to shemlen.  Regardless, it is just as wrong.  Any Dalish with the power to influence a spirit in this way is likely to misuse it.”

Clearly he’d made his choice.

“Any Dalish?  I realize we might be difficult to tell apart for those who think so little of our customs, but I assume you of all people consider yourself able to.”

His warning look brushed off her like water on waxed leather and she knew the expression on her face was bordering on the insolent.

“I do not know why you wish to have this conversation.”

“Because I object to having the actions of one woman affect your opinion of me.  Why does her foolishness mean you now won’t tell me anything?”

“My attitude to you has nothing to do with her.”

“Liar.”

She’d shocked him and there was something in her ability to provoke his anger that thrilled  in her almost as deeply as when she’d realised his body was pressed against hers earlier.

“That is not an idle insult.”

“Neither is what you are doing, Solas.  You’re just assuming we are all the same.”

He stood and she followed, unwilling to let this go and knowing it was unwise before she opened her mouth.  “Solas, I know they hurt you.”

He went very still, emotion wiping from his face.  Gods but he was tall when he didn’t stoop.  Alarm bells started pealing at the back of her mind, but she ignored them.  “I saw you, in the ruin.  The way she spoke to you?  I know you said you’d come across Dalish before and that the meeting didn’t go the way you wanted, I can see how they might have…”

His chuckle interrupted her, nothing of mirth in it.  In fact it sent shivers down her spine to hear it.  His voice when it came was quiet, but there was a tremor of anger and bitterness in it that almost frightened her.

“Ah, I see.  You have seen pain in me and now all my opinions must surely be due to that pain, nothing more.”

“Solas, that’s not what I said…”

“No, truly.  I have no control over my emotions, they surely cloud every genuine observation I have ever made to twist my conclusions  I am, in fact, clearly incapable of making clear judgements on this issue.”

“That is not what I said.”

“Is it not?” he asked, turning to her, his body and voice tightly controlled in his anger.  “Do you not think that I have tried to give the Dalish their chance?  I have seen them for what they are and this child we picked up today has only reassured me of my conclusions.  I was a fool for even trying.”

“Solas,” Eli tried again, something hard suddenly in her throat as she remembered him attempting to speak with Mihris, looking back at her like she’d persuaded him to.  “All I’m asking is that you try and see that there are some of us who are worthy of your attention, more than just the idiotic children you seem to have decided we are.”

His eyes were harsh and angry as he answered.

“I have seen nothing to convince me otherwise.”

Something dropped in her stomach and she suddenly realised what this whole conversation had been about, why she’d started it in the first place.  She knew the hurt showed on her face because she heard Varric tut from beside them and Solas frowned slightly, clearly a little confused.  She wasn’t about to let him see it for longer than she had to.

“Fine.” She said, keeping her voice as calm as she could.  She was good at this when she needed to be.  “I will stop wasting your time with my presence then.”

She turned and walked away, trying desperately to focus on calmly putting her staff away, clearing up, preparing to leave.  Still, she couldn’t help but hear Varric’s low voice floating over from where she’d left them both.

“Well, Chuckles, that didn’t go particularly well.”

“If I want your advice, Stonechild, I will ask for it.”

“Oh, so that’s the way you wanted it to go?  Her walking off after you’d hurt her feelings - that was the idea, was it?”

She didn’t hear Solas reply and decided she wasn’t about to wait around to listen, so she signalled to them that they were leaving and stepped onto the path, half-heartedly keeping an eye out for any further attack.  In a sudden whim she decided that today was the day she was making a statement about shoes, plonking herself on the hard ground to pull off the awful leather shemlen boots and socks.  Still sitting, she spread her toes out on the ground and even the rough earth and stones of the path felt blissful.  Levering up again, she let the sensation distract her for a few moments, if only a few.

On one hand she hated how she had apparently decided that his good opinion of her was worth her making excuses for her people.  On the other, she knew she had disagreed with a good few of her people in her time, especially at the last Arlathvhen, but in the face of his sweeping disdain she suddenly wanted to defend ideologies she had always argued against.  She hated that he seemed to have her caught in the middle.  She hated worst of all that he seemed to neither know that was what he was doing or care that he was doing it.  She had managed to forget how aloof he had seemed in her first few days of knowing him, how sometimes she would catch him watching the people at Haven seeming so very far away from them all.  It was all the more frustrating because she respected him, admired his magical talents and was entranced by the way he thought through problems, applied whatever learning he had come by to any challenge they encountered.  That he had done so out of nothing was something she felt such admiration for, coming from where she did.  The Dalish had nothing, had so very little to work with.  To see someone take even less and turn it into his level of talent was nothing short of miraculous and she wanted it to give her hope for her people.  Perhaps that was why it hurt so much when his apparent wisdom gave him only disdain for everything that she herself wanted to save.  

Every time she thought they were beginning to understand each other, there would be something to derail them.  She could only try so many times.  Perhaps it had been the wrong time to bring up the Dalish hurting him, when he was already angry.  Her chest hurt.  She was pretty damn sure it wasn’t just the residual bruise from the arrow.

Their short trip back to the stone archway that marked the crossroads was uneventful.  She kept out in front, not wanting to talk to Solas and not really wanting Varric giving her sympathetic eyes either.  She could barely understand herself, let alone trying to make someone else do so.  Cassandra was speaking to a small group of recruits when they arrived, Eli enquiring just enough to find out that they had taken Mihris under strict instruction to treat her with respect to join the main Inquisition scout party heading to Wycome.  They waited for a while for Cassandra to finish, Eli munching on an apple Varric had handed to her as she watched how Cassandra dealt with them.  There had been a move recently towards Eli ordering around these scouts herself and she wasn’t afraid to openly soak up advice and experience like a sponge when she was around people like Cassandra or Bull.  Her training for leadership had been somewhat different and she still wasn’t entirely sure how to apply it to this.  After Cassandra was finished, they headed into the crossroads, ambling along the main path until Varric spotted a merchant and hauled their pack onto his back, winking at them and moving off to where the man stood (in surprisingly good clothes considering he was supposedly a ‘refugee’).  Eli, still uncomfortable with all of the stares, kept walking until she started getting to the outskirts, idly hopping over a wall to wonder along the small allotments that the refugees were trying to set up for themselves.  

She felt someone come up behind her and, given that she couldn’t hear armour, assumed it to be Solas.  True enough, he fell into line with her as they walked along the brow of the hill, heading to the camp further up.

“I believe,” he began, sounding slightly unsure.  “That I owe you an apology.”

Eli suddenly felt very tired.

“Do you?”

“Yes.  I did not mean to imply that your presence was of any detriment to me.”

“Then what did you mean to imply?”

He grimaced slightly, not really able to hold her eye for long.

“I’m afraid implying anything was not on my mind.  I allowed my emotions to overcome my judgement of you and to get the better of me.  I spoke out of turn and from anger.  Forgive me.”

It startled her to hear that last, but he seemed sincere when she glanced over at him.  It surprised her that he could be so open, was so willing to put himself in this position to make amends.  He was a mix of extremes, this man, just when she thought she had the measure of him he’d turn a different way.  She was going to forgive him, she thought to herself drily, she had to admit that to herself.  Although he didn’t necessarily need to know, yet.

“Why did you get so angry?”

He shook his head, fingers tangling like he’d forgotten he was doing it.

“You…so often you think of things, say things - that I do not expect.  Your comment about the Dalish?  It took me by surprise.”

“I’m sorry for that.  It was the wrong time to bring it up.” She said, bumping her arm against his.  He again looked surprised, a wry smile blooming briefly on his lips.

“Like that, for example.  You are…unexpected.”

She grinned.

“I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He inclined his head to her briefly.  She suspected he knew he’d been forgiven.  She laughed a little.  “You’re actually quite a hot-head, aren’t you?”

“My childhood tutor would certainly agree with you.” He chuckled back, something youthful and vibrant in his expression.  She’d just decided it was slightly addicting when it faded.  “I was not expecting a situation where that would matter.”

“What do you mean?”

He stopped, leaning up against a nearby fence with his arms crossed.  The look he gave her made him suddenly seem older than she’d thought.  From one extreme to another.

“My judgement of people I meet often has little bearing.  Most of the time they do not care.”

“And when they do care?  When you hurt them?”

“It is very rare that I do so.”

“Really?”

He didn’t answer directly, just looked at her steadily, if gently.  It felt like he was asking a question and she found herself answering.  “It’s not as if I’ve never questioned my people’s methods  - we’re all so very different now, so disparate.  But it’s just - this whole situation is almost engineered to surround me with attacks on everything I’ve known as home my whole life.  Even Sera.  To have it from you too, when I…” she stumbled a little.  “…when I respect you so greatly, it can just feel like too much sometimes.  So I get defensive, or try and pick holes or find reasons for you hating us that don’t hurt so much.”

He was quiet beside her for a moment.  She didn’t want to look at him, so instead cast her gaze down the hill towards the settlement and the sky beyond.

“I would not wish to count myself amongst those you feel you must defend yourself against.” He finally said, softly.  “And it is not just that you care about my opinion of you that makes this situation unfamiliar.  I…I myself am not accustomed to caring if I hurt someone.”

Now she looked at him, something wary and very, very vulnerable in his eyes.  When there was the smallest flinch, a tightening of his eyes as he looked at her face, she saw it for what it was.  It still hurt, but better that there was something in her tattoos that pained him than it be something he judged her as less for.

“They did hurt you, didn’t they?”

He kept very still, even as she turned her body towards him.  He nodded, the tiniest of movements.

“I do not wish to speak of it.”

“I’m not asking you to speak of it, Solas.” She assured him, quickly but gently.  They were so close the rigid line of his crossed arms almost brushed her open coat.  “I wouldn’t ask that.  We don’t know each other that well and I know that you’ve often been alone, you’ve said so.  Spirits often know things without you needing to tell them, so I’m not demanding anything of you.”

“Save my acceptance that my feelings for the Dalish may inform my judgement of them?”

“Is that something you haven’t accepted?”

He genuinely seemed to consider the question.

“I have never thought of it that way.  Perhaps I should.”

She smiled, strangely grateful for the honesty of his answer.  “And, if it must be said - whilst I maintain that the Dalish are often wrong, I do not hate them.  Or you.”

“Well then, maybe we should try a truce.”

His interest was clearly piqued and she wondered if, like him, she had an expression of her own that meant she was about to suggest something to him he was pretty sure he was going to approve of.  “How about, you try and wait before jumping to sweeping conclusions about the Dalish and I will try and stop being overly defensive.  With full permission for the both of us to fight like wolves and pole cats if we really feel we want to.”

He was trying not to grin again and it was unfair that she found it arousing.

“Wolves and pole cats?”

“It’s an expression.”

“Is it?” He asked, but there was an amused resignation on his face and he was nodding, so she was pretty sure she was winning.  “I see your point.  I believe I can accept those terms.”

She smiled at him, her heart skipping slightly at the warmth in his voice.  Or perhaps it was the warmth from his body, which she realised seemed extremely close all of a sudden.  A thought occurred to her and if her voice came out lower than she initially meant it to she wasn’t complaining, especially when she felt his breath suck in slightly from her place in front of him when he heard it.

“I was meaning to thank you, by the way.”

“Thank me?”

That addictive little anticipating smirk was on his face again.

“Yes.  For saving my life.”

“On the hill?”

“Well yes, although I was thinking more in the ruin.  With the falling rock.”

He looked momentarily confused and she could tell the moment he remembered when his gaze grew heated, the memory of their bodies tangled on the crumbling remnants of the stone flooding fresh through Eli’s veins.  His tongue darted over his lips before he spoke again and Eli couldn’t look away from them.

“You are quite welcome.”

They were quiet for a moment, Eli allowing herself to revel in this company, in this moment of mutual attraction, of feeling like she was really with him for one of the few times in their acquaintance.  Then he moved, unfolding his arms and suddenly it was all a little much, her body almost swaying with the effort not to close the gap between their bodies, feel the press of her breasts against the thin cotton covering his chest.  So she swayed backwards instead, chuckling a little at them both as she stepped away.  To her great satisfaction, he looked far more unsure than she did and she could see him beginning to decide that he needed to say something sensible and stupid to make anything about this situation appropriate.  Appropriate, at least, to what he thought the Herald and her resident apostate Rift-mage should be, anyway. Why were intelligent men often so very foolish?

“Don’t think, just walk.” she interrupted before he had a chance to speak.  He stood fully, cocking his head at her in confusion.  “Don’t think, just walk.”

She hooked her fingers around his arm, briefly tugging his body to join hers in continuing their journey to camp.  He allowed her, the weight of his body comforting and promising under her hand for just a second before he moved with her, matching her strides.

“Don’t think, just walk?” He repeated.

“Exactly.” She answered, although she was quite sure he hadn’t intended to imply his agreement.  She quite enjoyed having the upper hand.  “There is so much to think about, Solas, it’ll weigh us down to think about it all the time.  Sometimes, of course, deliberation must be undertaken, but when you are able….”

She left it hanging, looking up at him and jogging him slightly with her shoulder in encouragement.  When he made that expression again, the addictive one, she realised that she probably adored it because it looked like he didn’t know whether to be exasperated or charmed.  Well, if he could keep her on an edge between two emotions, then it was only fair and equal that she place him in a similar predicament.

“Don’t think, just walk.” He finished, obedient and making sure she saw it.  This contrary element to his personality was a new if slightly worrying development, given what it did to very specific parts of Eli’s body.  Still, to his credit his smile turned slightly pensive like he was actually thinking about it.  “Very well.  Perhaps I will experiment with this advice.  For now.”

She beamed up at him, suddenly walking lighter on her toes than she had all day.

“For now.” She repeated, accepting it for the promise it was.  She looked down and saw their feet, now both uncovered, against the rich brown soil of the valley.  The soft earth gave way gently under their toes like it was welcoming them.  “For now.”

[sevenincubistolemyheart]

Tainting Purity Chapter 3

Au: Demon

Tag list: @bangtans-apollo @xsunnyhoseokx @wilhelminalucinda @xsmilebitesx @okgoogul @mariacorbi @spiritualotaku @littlekitten8590 @felic-ci @saturated-pink @fckyouartclass @saraisthoughts @godrics @theshiningmoonsblog @winterseoul @nomimits7 @miss-delacour @apphiaasensio20 @novakitten0901 @thatonebibabe @2seokkyo @marvelkatwoman @vannilacake @books-are-way-better-than-movies @bluespidergirl56 @io-is-lame @avalanet @psiphidragon @livingbubbles-blog @inutiledediscuter @korkorky @iie-wakarimasen @pvrple-kookie @yoongiismytruelove @amiraclerenee @eltrain80 @shelley-hennig14 @bts-edits-bitch @frankenstein852 @oii-f-eli-x

Rating: M

Potential Triggers: Kinks in this chapter include degradation, mentions of orgasm denial, edging, exhibitionism and more marking. Things do get a bit darker in this chapter so being put down verbally/talked down to. Check the masterlist as I update for all the triggers in the series up to that point.

Pairing: BTS x Reader/OT7 x Reader

Genre: Supernatural, Drama, Romance, Angst, Fluff, Hurt & Comfort

Length: 11.8k (These just keep getting longer lmao)

It didn't take you very long to change at all though Namjoon's words echoed in your mind, as did the sting of his mark. You couldn't help but sigh as you realized Hoseok and Yoongi had marked you much more than Jimin had. One particularly high mark made by Yoongi on your neck caused you to both blush, and groan. Clearly, he wanted others to know you belonged to him. Odd, since he didn't seem to be the possessive type.

You exited the bathroom with a question on your lips that you quickly asked Namjoon who was now fully dressed as well. “Does the bond between whoever marks me deepen if there are more marks?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow at your blunt question, clearly not expecting it though he easily recovered after a moment, and smiled. “Why do you ask? Ah…” He walked a bit closer and nodded in understanding. “I see Yoongi got a little too excited, and I'm sure Hoseok did as well. Don't worry. Quantity isn't a factor, it's the intention behind the mark that drives its power. Since Hoseok and Yoongi both had the same intentions as Jimin no doubt, it'll have the same potency as well. Anyway, you ready to head out?”

He chuckled as he took in your appearance and stepped forward, fixing the buttons that had given you so much trouble with ease. “Apparently not.” He shook his head at you with a smile you'd call fond if you didn't know better, pulling away. “There, now you're all set.” You blushed a bit at the close proximity, somehow still easily flustered despite all you'd been through with him and the others already. He started heading for the door causing you to follow after him like a lost duckling.

It was only a few minutes later when you all piled out of the car, this time without any underhanded shenanigans and made your way inside the mall. It was crazy to believe you'd only met the 7 of them at 11 am that same morning and now it was only 7 pm with all that had happened.

“So, here's the game plan. Taehyung, Jungkook and Jin are gonna  take you to get some clothes while Yoongi, Jimin, Hoseok and I take care of some business of our own.”

Namjoon explained. Jimin attempted to whine. “But hyung I want-”  He cut himself off at the warning glare he received from both Jin and Namjoon though he pouted and grumbled under his breath.

You found yourself endeared by his childish behavior and giggled as you hugged him. “Don't worry Jimin, I'll miss you too. Oh!” You yelped as Jungkook pulled you away into a hug of his own while smirking at Jimin. “Don't worry hyung. I'll take good care of her in your place.” His voice was full of smugness.

You heard Jin sigh as he made his way over, sending a pointed look Jungkook's way as Jimin growled protectively. “Don't start Jungkook. Keep in mind Jimin's the only one you're pissing off.” Jungkook scoffed but you felt his body betray him as he tensed when he saw Hoseok, Yoongi, and Namjoon looking ready to pounce.

It was odd to see for you since they were typically all very in control of their emotions, especially Yoongi and Namjoon. Namjoon seemed to realize this and cleared his throat before he forced himself to speak calmly, despite his eyes daring Jungkook to disobey him.

“Knock it off Jungkook. Now. Or you'll join us and I'll just have Taehyung and Jin take her.”

This caught Taehyung's attention who lit up with a bright boxy smile at the thought. Jungkook laughed nervously at the threat and backed off, pulling away his arms from around your waist to instead rub the back of his neck in sheepish defeat as he averted his gaze to the floor in submission.

Jin nodded in satisfaction as Jungkook got the message and the eldest strode forward to sling a playful arm around both of your shoulders with a shout of. “Onwards!” He guides you 2 inside while Taehyung trailed just behind you, hands in his pockets casually as he followed after you all at a leisurely, unhurried pace.

When you spotted Rue 21 and made your way to steer Jin towards it at the sight of a good sale going on, he turned to look down at you and released both you and Jungkook from his grasp. You turned to look at him with a hum of curiosity and were surprised to see him looking at the store in confusion. A look at the other two boys showed you that Jungkook was on his phone, seemingly already bored and Taehyung was looking up at the store with apprehensive curiosity shining in his gaze. You raised an expectant eyebrow at them.

“Are you coming in or not?”

Jungkook looked up from his phone, glanced at the store and then at you, hands on your hips and smirked, slipping his phone into his back pocket.

“I guess so. Could be fun to see you try stuff on.”

You fought the blush that threatened to make its way onto your cheeks at the suggestive tone in his voice and huffed at him, turning on your heel with a grumbled.

“Don’t get any ideas, we’re just getting me clothes you little brat.”

His eyes darkened at your retort though you didn’t notice as you began making your way into the store, assuming the others would follow, and they did.

Taehyung and Jin seemed a bit hesitant to do so but they came up behind you after a few seconds while you examined the simple t-shirts on display, feeling the fabric, and smiling at how soft it was. This was why you loved this store. Nothing beat cheap and high-quality.

Taehyung however, didn’t seem to agree.

“You shop here? Why?”

You turned to glare at him, growing a bit defensive at his judgemental tone.

“I like this store, that’s why. Why? Do you have a problem with it?”

“Not particularly. You could just do so much better.”

Seokjin cleared his throat then, saving Taehyung from himself as he spoke up and stepped forward to look at the shirts with you.

“What he meant to say is that we can take you somewhere that has better quality stuff than here, and you don’t have to worry about price or anyth-”

You cut Seokjin off with a smile, though your eyes showed your genuine irritation.

“There’s nothing wrong with shopping here, I’m totally fine.”

Jungkook merely watched you with calculating eyes as the other 2 raised their hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine. Whatever you wa-”

Jungkook was the one to cut Jin off this time and the eldest sent him an irritated glare.

“Let’s make a deal princess. If we let you shop here for a few items, then you’ve got to let us take you to a store we choose.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise as you shook your head and turned to look at him from examining the shirts with Jin, a few now in your arms for you to purchase.

“No, I’m good, but thank you.”

He was surprised. Had...had you just said no? He tried a different approach, following after you and leaning down to growl seductively in your ear as you looked through the pants rack.

“That wasn’t a question angel.”

You smiled, deceptively sweet as you turned to look at him, patting his cheek with a patronizing.

“Too bad. I said no anyway. You’ll have to do better than that little boy.”

You mocked him with the nickname he’d used on you that first time in the car and walked away to try on your chosen clothes, hearing Taehyung tease him.

“Wow Kookie, never thought I’d see the day you got told off by a Human, let alone a girl half your size~”

You smirked in satisfaction, feeling like you’d finally won for once as you all but skipped to the changing rooms. Served him right.

You had just taken off your shirt to reveal your sports bra underneath when you saw Jin walk in behind you in the mirror making you gasp and instinctively try to cover your breasts further as your cheeks flushed.

“Seokjin! Why didn’t you say anything!?”

You only had a moment to realize he was looming closer rather than backing out before you were whirled around by your shoulders quickly. You looked up at him in surprise as he was dead silent, staring down at something near your shoulder intensely. Your eyes widened in realization. Shit! Your neck! You looked over to the mirror and saw Namjoon’s mark still had some of your blood-now dried- on your skin.

Seokjin scoffed in apparent disgust, leaning down to lick at the mark and speaking to you between slurps.

“Ugh-leave it to Namjoon to not clean up after himself. I taught him better than this.” He sucked at a particularly stubborn spot of blood and looked at your hand in surprise as you gripped his shoulder at the shot of pleasure that went to your core, voice a warning whine.

“Jin…”

He smirked, eyes now red from your blood on his tongue, snickering in amusement at your desperation as he pulled away briefly to observe your expression, tinted tongue flicking over his lips quickly as he reveled in that pout on your lips, eyes trying to glare but steadily growing weaker under his influence.

“Ugh, you’re so easy to rile up, even for a virgin. Don’t worry baby, I’ll clean you up properly unlike him.”

He reassured you, leaning down to finish cleaning your neck before he began harshly sucking a mark of his own diagonal to Namjoon’s. He clearly knew what he was doing. The action was quick but he used just enough pressure to provide so much pleasure your legs grew shaky yet there wasn’t a single ounce of pain.

You were panting as he pulled away to observe his handiwork, taking your chin and moving your head to the side gently so he could fully take it in. He hummed in approval and stepped away from you to leave, casually adjusting his shirt cuffs before he looked over his shoulder at your still dazed form and winked.

“Go ahead and try on what you picked out darling. I’ll be perusing around the store in the meantime. Forgive me for losing my composure like that.”

With that, he was gone. You managed to collect yourself once again quickly enough and turned to observe his mark in the mirror along with the others since they were now all visible on your half-naked form.

Hoseok’s were placed with wild abandon all over your midsection making your cheeks heat at the memory while Yoongi’s seemed more methodical, placed in areas he’d found more sensitive than others to drive you all the more crazy with lust, Jimin only had the small one on your collarbone but it was still easy to see. Namjoon’s was the largest thus far since he didn't hold back at all on the opposite side of your neck, and also very red and pronounced as it was so recent. Jin’s, therefore, was as well, yet it was the smallest of all of them despite the earth-shattering amount of pleasure it’d brought you.

You shook these thoughts away, focusing on trying on the few shirts and pants you got, and ignoring the way your heart clenched at the sight of the bruise on your stomach, a clear reminder of all you’d lost sticking with your beliefs.

Even still, you didn’t regret your choice.

You exited the changing room with a cheery grin and a spring in your step. It’d seem all the choices you’d made fit you well, save for one pair of pants and a shirt. You put the clothes you were planning on purchasing by the cashier so they were organized and turned on your heel to put away the other two items. After you hung the jeans back up you turned to make your way to the shirts but instead felt an arm circle around your waist, causing you to drop the shirt as your assaulter cupped their hand over your mouth before your instinctual scream could escape, pulling you into the center of the pants rack and hiding you both from the world.

You violently struggled for a few moments, getting ready to elbow your captor until just as you began to feel genuine panic and fear a familiar voice at your ear made you stop.

“Did I scare you? Sorry, I just wanted you to myself for a bit. The other’s have been pretty greedy lately. It’s not fair.” Despite not being able to see him you could tell from his voice that Taehyung was pouting.

You scoffed at that behind his hand as he leaned in closer to inhale your scent, apparently spotting some of your new marks as you felt him stiffen and growl a bit. “I see some of the others have already gotten to you. Do you want me to mark you too? Tap my hand once for yes, twice for no.” You mulled it over before rolling your eyes inwardly and tapping his hand once. You’d accepted that this was just something they’d all need to do, otherwise whoever you left out would be upset and feel neglected.

You didn’t want to make any of them mad quite frankly, especially after Jimin’s little outburst earlier.

Taehyung giggled like a little kid at your agreeance, then flipped a switch and began purring in your ear, quickly causing a flood down under as he dirty talked you with that orgasm inducing voice of his.

“Well, that certainly was a quick response. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you liked being marked. Oh, wait. Of course I know better. I know every dirty thing you’re into like the back of my hand. Now, let’s make Jungkook really mad hm~? You’ll thank me later.”

Before you could react at all to his last words you were distracted by the featherlight touch of his lips on your neck, nearby Jimin’s. Gosh, they really liked to mark you there. You squirmed a little in his grip as his lips tickled your neck making him chuckle.

“Alright alright, I’ll be nice and not tease you today.”

He bit down gently, nibbling and lapping at the abused skin to soothe the burn he left behind until he was satisfied.

“I’ll put your shirt away for you!”

He chirped as he pulled you out of the jeans rack, ducking down to snatch it up before racing off just as quickly as he’d come. He was definitely an energetic one.

Someone grabbed your hand and you groaned in annoyance, turning to glare at the person who was dragging you away again, and found yourself unsurprised to see Jungkook as the culprit. Did these boys have shifts messing with you or what?

“Jungkook wait, we still have to-”

He shook his head, not even bothering to look back at you as he responded gruffly.

“Already paid for.”

He held up the bag in his free hand for emphasis, making you annoyed at his brusqueness,

“Well then where are you taking me? What about Taehyung and Jin?”

You could practically feel the way Jungkook rolled his eyes at you.

“They’re already inside. Now, are you coming or…?”

He abruptly released your hand and stopped in front of the Gucci store, raising an expectant eyebrow at you.

You rose one back, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance. You’d actually won an argument, like fucking Hell you were giving that up just because he brought you here.

“What do you think?”

He shrugged casually and placed his hands in his pockets.

“Fine. Wait out here then.”

“Fine.”

He turned to walk inside and stopped at the entrance, turning over his shoulder to shoot you a knowing smirk as he cooed at you, already knowing he’d won.

“I’ll just pick out your clothes for you. Hope you like crop tops and lingerie. I could’ve sworn I saw a Victoria’s Secret somewhere around here…”

He locked eyes with you and let his smirk turn into a full on grin as he practically saw the steam coming out of your ears. You knew the fucker’d make good on it too, just to get to you. You could see the determination in his eyes.

That little menace. You could strangle him.

You grumbled unintelligible curses under your breath as you shoved past him into the store, ignoring the joyful boyish laughter that fell from his lips as he trailed after you. You huffed as you stormed over to Jin and Taehyung, cheeks coloring as they shared a knowing smile and Jin handed Taehyung a 10$ bill.

“This is the deal!”

You would’ve continued but Jungkook beat you to it, ruffling your hair affectionately.

“That’s cute, but no. The deal is this. You pick out whatever you want to and if I find out you looked at a single price tag I’ll personally make sure you don’t cum for a week. From any of us.”

His voice was so bright and cheerful it took you a second to fully process what he’d said and once you did, you did a double take, looking at him in shock.

“You guys wouldn’t mess with me for a whole week? Really?”

Taehyung actually burst out laughing.

“Ahaha!! Hell no!! Oh my gosh sweetheart you’re seriously adorable…” He grinned widely at your surprised face.

Jin smiled gently, explaining for you.

“We’d still do as we liked...we just wouldn’t let you cum.”

Jungkook stepped forward to twirl a piece of your hair around his finger, a sweet smile on his lips as his eyes drilled into your soul.

“No matter what we did, or you for that matter, you wouldn’t be able to orgasm until we let you. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

You shivered at the thought, swallowing as you laughed nervously, meeting Jungkook’s intense gaze and realizing this was payback for your little comments and sass earlier as his iris’s twinkled with sadistic amusement.

Fucking asshole, now how did you respond!? You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but that sounded downright torturous!!!

Jin and Taehyung both sensed your internal struggle thanks to their marks and while Taehyung started cracking up at your plight, trying and failing to hide it as a cough, Jin merely shrugged at you with a kind smile as if to say.

‘You made your bed now lie in it.’

Wonderful.

“I’m waiting little girl. What’s wrong, too scared to answer~?”

His grin was so wide you were sure his face would split.

What you wouldn’t give to slap that shit-eating grin right off his smug little mouth.

He cocked his head to the side looking very much like a predator as he observed your every movement.

You swallowed your fear and forced a scoff but he stepped into your personal space before any words you'd surely regret could escape you.

“Do you think I won't follow through?”

His voice was unlike any tone you'd heard before from him. It was quiet, gentle even, but underneath the surface there was a clear warning.

The only question was, did you listen to it?

You stared back at him for a moment, and Taehyung and Jin watched you with curiosity clear to see in their gazes to how exactly you would react to his challenge.

You bit your lip and softened your gaze, leaning up to pull him down to your level which he easily complied with, too intrigued by your out of character forwardness to reject you. Your lips brushed across the shell of his ear and you swallowed your nerves and smirked as you felt him shiver at the sensation.

“I know you won’t. You may act the part of the teaser, but you haven’t even made me orgasm yet.” You gulped, fighting the heat you felt trying to climb onto your cheeks.

‘Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush…’

The whole effect would be ruined if you did and thankfully, for once, your body cooperated with you.

“Hoseok and Yoongi already did, and it was amazing…” Your smirk widened as your eyes flicked down to see his fists were clenched.

“And my first, too. Yoongi took my first kiss. You could be running out of time, who knows what other firsts I’ll lose while you’re busy being a cow-AH!” You squealed as Jungkook suddenly picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, cutting off your insult. You heard him call over his shoulder to Taehyung and Jin casually, though his voice was gruff.

“Bring some clothes for her to the changing rooms. Apparently, angel needs to be taught some fucking manners.”

You tried to pretend you weren’t affected but hearing such vulgar language from the youngest admittedly caught you off guard and sent a flood of arousal straight to your core.

You could practically imagine the smirk on his face as he carried you with ease to the back of the store where the changing rooms were. You couldn’t keep the blush off your face this time even if your life depended on as others turned to watch in either shock, amusement or a mixture of both. You tried to squirm free from his grip, punching his back for all the good it did you, yet somehow still not with your full force as you didn’t want to hurt him, no matter how improbable such a thing was.

“P-Put me down Jungkook, people are looking.”

Your voice was a venomous hiss, but quiet enough that those around you couldn’t hear. Jungkook was taking his sweet ass time, clearly relishing in your blatant discomfort. His voice was a playful coo as his hands were stealthily creeping their way further up your thighs the closer you got to the changing rooms.

“Oh? You didn’t seem to mind all of us watching you earlier. What changed~?”

“That was different and you know it.”

“Was it? It seemed similar enough to me.”

He walked into one of the stalls and set you down on the black leather couch, being sure to grab your wrists in one of his own to force you to stop trying to hit him with his superior strength.

He raised an eyebrow at you before he continued.

“You didn’t really know us at that point. Is it so different for strangers to see you get carried off? Most of them, especially the females, desired to be in your position in fact. You’ve got no reason to be embarrassed.”

He shrugged, nonchalant, even as his eyes darkened.

‘Besides, if it really bothered you so much you wouldn’t have talked back. Now? Now I have to punish you. I’ll show you who's a coward.”

His voice steadily grew deeper until it was nothing but a throaty growl, causing you to shiver as you watched the black cover his eyes.

You didn’t fight as you were pressed against the mirror, mind suddenly blank.

“Look at me.”

Instantly you did so, and you finally put together what he was doing. At the glimmers of genuine fear and worry in your eyes, Jungkook’s own softened for a moment, despite remaining their inky color. “...Relax. You know I won’t take it too far. Rules still apply.” He soothed, nose nuzzling affectionately into your neck as he mumbled the calming reminder.

This seemed to have a relaxing effect on you and you nodded, eyes still locked with his. He grinned then and you were surprised to find his teeth sharper than they typically were. At your surprised expression, Jungkook hummed.

“Have the others not used this on you yet?” He smirked, but it wasn’t amused this time. It was a cruel twitch of his lips. “Looks like I get to have some firsts after all~Why don't I show you something else?” He let his tongue flick across your ear grinning as you flinched violently on instinct at the near overwhelming sensation that hit you. Were you...more sensitive somehow? You didn’t remember it feeling this intense the last time he toyed with you.

You felt his grip tighten and couldn’t hold back your squeak as he gave a long, slow, lick from the bottom of your neck to your ear, his eyes piercing into your very soul as he did so. You whimpered at the torturous sensation, trying to squirm away as he began to nip playfully at your ear, sending sharp shocks of pleasure you couldn’t resist.

He’d just started and you could already feel yourself soaking through your panties. What did he do to you? Was it permanent? You shuddered at the thought, whether from delight, fear, or anticipation you didn’t know.

“Do you like it? I had a feeling the others hadn’t tried this yet. They were probably too scared of overwhelming you, but not me.”

His eyes were dark, his voice cool.

“I probably would’ve waited but you just had to keep provoking me today…”

He sighed in mock disappointment even though you both knew he had been wanting to do this since your very first defiance earlier. His mouth left your ear as he began to trail hot kisses down the length of your throat, sucking particularly hard at the area where your shoulder met your neck until your knees were starting to turn into jelly.

His eyes suddenly narrowed in annoyance as he caught sight of first Namjoon’s mark and then Taehyung's.

“...Who else has marked you?”

His voice was that same dangerous yet gentle tone from earlier and you shivered, mouth going dry as you recalled Taehyung’s words.

Your hesitance was the only encouragement he needed as he went to pull off your shirt.

Your eyes suddenly widened as you tried to stop him, hands flying to his as you recalled what else lurked underneath in addition to the boys’ marks.

“Wait! Jungkook, no!”

But he’d already seen and if his horrified expression was anything to go by he knew exactly what had caused that bruise. He stumbled back in surprise, eyes wide from shock and you took the opportunity to pull your shirt down to hide it once more, eyes pained.

“Jungkook-”

“Tell me it wasn’t from that man. Tell me it wasn’t from you protecting me.”

He was growing more panicked; you could tell from his ever-increasing breathing and the erratic tone of his voice.

You bit your lip, worried as you’d never seen him like this. He didn’t seem like the type of person to lose himself over a simple injury.

“It doesn’t even really hurt anymore!! It’s not a big deal Jungkook, please calm down…” You took a tentative step towards him and he lunged, making you yelp in surprise as he locked his arm firmly around your neck, though gently enough to not cut off your air supply. His eyes were apologetic as he caught your gaze in the mirror, but they now gained a determined glint as he saw you staring at him.

“...I’ll make you better.”

He mumbled and then bit his wrist, the still sharpened teeth easily cutting through his own skin.

You watched in a mix of worry and apprehension, getting panicked enough that you tried to call for Taehyung and Jin. “Seokjin!! Tae-” Jungkook cut you off by trying to bring his wrist; now flowing with black blood; to your lips though you ducked just as Taehyung flew in and unwound Jungkook’s arm from your neck before wrestling the male away from you even as the younger fought tooth and nail to get to you, starting to get loud enough that staff was surely going to notice.

“I need to heal her damn it!! Taehyung you don’t understand!! She’s hurt because of me, just let me-” You stared in shock as the boy you’d thought you knew so well absolutely crumbled, barely catching a glimpse of Seokjin’s cold expression before he slapped Jungkook hard enough that the sound echoed, causing the boy to finally go quiet as he hid his own expression behind his hair.

“...Get him out of here Taehyung. Now. Bring him to Namjoon.”

“But hyung-”

“I won’t ask again.”

Taehyung lowered his head in defeat but nodded and helped Jungkook straighten fully and guided his friend out.

Jin turned to look at your shocked form but you shook your head to get your bearings before glaring at him. “You didn’t have to hit him like that! Why didn’t you just try talking to him!?”

Jin merely raised an eyebrow at you and you suddenly realized he too was acting like a completely different person than the one you thought you’d known. Clearly, you really didn’t know any of them at all...just the masks they wanted you to see.

“Talking wouldn’t have worked. You tried and we saw how well that worked. Now, care to tell me what caused him to lose himself like that?”

You hesitated but nodded. “Before I met the rest of you, you know I stood up for Jungkook.” He nodded at you to continue and you took a deep breath before raising your shirt enough for him to see the bruise. “Well, I pushed him behind me when he provoked a bigot and I ended up getting punched in the stomach, leading to me getting this bruise. Jungkook saw it when he tried to look at the other marks and then bit his wrist and tried to...to force-feed me his blood I think.”

Jin’s eyes lit up in understanding and he sighed heavily, running his hand through his hair as he looked away in thought. “Of course. That explains it. Namjoon’s not gonna be happy.”

“Jin? What did he mean by making me better? Does demonic blood have healing properties or something? I saw his blood was black…”

His eyes cut to you, before a small smirk twitched at the corner of his lips, eyes taking on a dark, hard edge you’d never expect to see from him with his typically playful, gentle disposition.

“Why do you ask? Did you want him to go through with it? Are you actually just like every other Human after all~?” He cocked his head to the side, examining your expression as it began to cloud over with fear and you tried to step away from him. He grabbed your face none too gently easily holding you still as he forced you to meet his intense gaze. “...Why are you frightened princess? You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to stay with us. Now be a good girl and try this on.”

He released your chin and shoved a hanger into your arms.

You tossed it aside onto the nearby couch as your eyes filled with tears, shoving at the tall man’s chest as he looked down at you impassively, not moving an inch.

“Who the fuck do you think you are to treat me like this!? Of course I didn’t want him to go through with it, why else do you think I called you for help?! And I didn’t know what I was getting into! How could I!? I’ve only just wrapped my head around the fact that demons exist in our fucking society, let alone what all of you people are capable of!! If this is how you actually feel I will happily move out and find somewhere else to go, I don’t need your fucking pity!!!”

Seokjin stared at you for a few more seconds before he softened and forced you into a tight hug as you continued spitting curses his way and crying.

“Sorry...one of us needed to test you, and I figured it better be me rather than any of the others. Let me explain, and then if you want to punch me in the face before leaving for good you’re more than welcome?” He offered, pulling back and releasing you.

You eyed him warily, clearly weighing his offer as you were still upset and nodded with a huff, sitting down on the couch as you rubbed your tears away. “Fine. Make it quick.”

He nodded, beaming at your acceptance.

“Humans tend to search us demons down just for an opportunity like what Jungkook offered. You’re right. Our blood does have healing properties like you correctly assumed, but in addition to that, if a demon shares his blood with a Human they have an inseparable bond. You think the marks we have on you now are powerful? A bond created that way is so intense that if the Human’s life is in danger, the demon will sacrifice himself without conscious thought. This is true even if the bond is created unwillingly.”

You made a sound of disgust.

“That's horrible. So...why did you need to be such a massive douche for?”

He smiled fondly at your blunt words.

“...You’re not the type to lash out. I needed to be genuinely cruel to make you stand up for yourself so I did what I had to. I am sorry that it hurt you, but the safety of my family comes first. I hope you understand and please know that it was only out of necessity. You proved yourself though. Even that you called us people, despite being filled with rage is a huge deal, not to mention you didn’t threaten us once, only that you’d remove yourself.”

You shrugged, as if it didn’t even cross your mind, which it didn’t. “I get that you did it to test me, to make sure I wasn’t just trying to hurt you guys...but that means you trust me now right? I don’t want to go through that again.”

He nodded, smiling a bit.

“Yeah, you passed with flying colors, I have 0 doubt in you. I trust you’re loyal.”

You nodded then, and finally asked the questions you’d been dying to. “I get why the bond could be bad, but there seemed to be another reason you were mad at Jungkook. If it was just me you were suspicious of I don’t think you would’ve snapped at him like you did. I want to know what the Hell’s up with this Void’s place and the Mark you all mentioned earlier too.”

Jin raised an eyebrow in surprise and hummed in approval.

“Cunning girl aren’t you? Fair enough, since we trust you fully now. Having that kind of bond with a Human is despised and viewed as one of demonkind's greatest taboos.”

Your eyes widened.

“What? Then why on Earth would he ever try to do that with me? Especially over a bruise?!”

Jin frowned and looked away, eyes clouding over as he recalled something.

“Jungkook has...past experience with Humankind. There was a boy he could not save and he hasn’t forgiven himself to this day. It haunts him, and he’s over paranoid of losing another Mortal that way ever again.”

He shook his head clearly trying to brush the topic and bad memories away.

“As for the Mark...it’s not my place. It’s something we’ll all tell you as a group when we’re ready. It’s got nothing to do with you not comprehending it, it’s just an intimate ordeal that we all need to talk about and be sure we’re ready for it ourselves before we let you in on it. And Void’s...well, it’s a demon club, and that’s what the outfit I gave you is for.”

You suddenly remembered it, turning to look at the garment you’d angrily flung away and flushing at its design.

The dress he'd thrown your way was edgy and daring. Black leather; form-fitting. It was strapless, the cups over your breasts were pleated in the center v. but the outer half of the cups looked almost like the finest kingsmail. Around your stomach and hips, the leather was soft and smooth. A rectangle portion to give you some modesty because the skirt of the short form-fitting number was nothing but black lace.

“I cannot wear that, are you crazy!?”

Taehyung chuckled as he re-entered, apparently having done as Jin asked.

“Sorry sweetheart, but unless you want to be demon chow you’re going to need to blend in. They’re going to have trouble taking you seriously as it is you’re going to need all the help you can get and this is the first step of that.”

You sombered at Taehyung’s entrance, worry flickering in your gaze.

“Is he alright?”

Taehyung nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.

“He’s...better. Namjoon calmed him down. He still feels horrible though, he’s sorry he all but forced you into something you had no idea about. Namjoon was livid, and so were the others, even if we all understood why he did what he did.”

You nodded, heart unclenching at his reassurance. That was good at least. He was with others who understood him better than you ever could. They knew how best to deal with him. You turned your attention back to the dress, if it could even be called that, holding it up.

“I get the reasoning, it’s just...not me, you know?”

Jin smiled reassuringly. “You’ll learn to play the part, and we’ll be with you every step of the way. Try not to worry too much...it’s just a precaution should we get separated, or someone whisks you away.”

Taehyung gave you pleading eyes that had you melting almost instantly, even without the power of suggestion. “Please? At least try it on?”

You mulled it over, and finally grumbled and nodded, gently shoving them out.

“Fine fine, go. I’ll be out in a second.”

It took you a bit longer than you’d care to admit to maneuver your way into the death trap of a dress but you finally managed after much muttered cursing and pouting.

You looked at yourself for a moment and almost gasped.

Was that really you?

You looked and felt so different it was almost like magic. It made you feel sexy and confident in your body. Just as a smile was twitching at your lips Taehyung’s smug voice by the door made you blush.

“So, you like it after all?”

You force a scoff even as you take a look at yourself in the mirror again and straighten your shoulders.

“I mean...it’s more than I’ve shown ever and it admittedly would make me feel super exposed and vulnerable if I was with anyone but you and the others but right here, right now it makes me feel...confident, in my body and how I look and that's something I don’t feel very often.” You admitted, voice honest and contemplative.

“...You guys need to promise to not leave my side when we go to this place, okay?”

You turned to look at them and were surprised to be greeted by Taehyung hugging you making you laugh.

“I’m alright, you know, it’s not like I’m crying or anything Tae.” You mumbled but accepted the affection nonetheless, squeezing him as you hugged him back. You felt him mumble into your hair. “Maybe not. But we could feel the pure elation that came from you when you saw your reflection...and it makes me so inexplicably happy that you could see how fucking gorgeous you are, if only for a moment.”

Tears blurred your vision for a second before you gave a watery laugh as he pulled away.

“Don’t you dare make me cry again guys, I’ve done that way too much today.” You mumbled, brushing away your tears before they fell. Jeez, were you always this emotional?

Jin smiled at you and chuckled in amusement. “I often forget how easily Mortals are brought to tears. It’s endearing...not something you should be ashamed of. But as you wish...get changed into your other clothes, we already retrieved other outfits for you that suit your taste. Jungkook was just teasing you, we’d never make you wear something you genuinely didn’t want to, unless it was absolutely necessary for your safety, like with Void’s. I did take the liberty to pick out a few outfits here so you can at least try them though. You might be surprised.”

Your heart warmed and you did as Jin suggested, getting dressed and carrying the dress out with you. You’d seen a whole different side to these 3 today and honestly, it made you feel really good that they trusted you with their genuine selves. You definitely had made the right choice.

20 minutes or so later, Jin, Taehyung and you were leaving the mall with Auntie Anne’s in your hands for you and the others at your insistence.

“You’ve never tried Auntie Anne’s!? That’s it, come on we’re having pretzels for dinner!”

Taehyung had been overjoyed and Jin rolled his eyes but perked up when he realized they also sold cooking kits for them, which he, of course, picked up. You were all quite content after all the chaos that ensued earlier all things considered...until you caught the loud conspiratory whispers of 2 friends passing by you.

“Is that her? The girl from the video?”

“It has to be! Look! She’s even still hanging around them! As if she could ever measure up to their level.”

You felt yourself starting to wither but tried to remain strong nonetheless, and marched over to them, using your confidence from earlier as you held your head high.

“If you have something to ask, why don’t you just ask it to my face instead of gossiping like a bunch of obnoxious teenagers?”

They looked so extraordinarily offended that you almost laughed though they quickly shook themselves off like ducks and huffed, crossing their arms across their chests.

“There’s nothing to ask! You’re just selfish, keeping all those incubus to yourself!!” One whined and you saw the other tapping at her phone before raising it to your face. There you were alright, protecting Jungkook. Apparently, someone had taken the liberty to film the whole ordeal and it must’ve spread if these girls deemed you important enough to talk about. Wonderful.

Now you did actually laugh though.

“First off...it’s incubi. At least learn the proper plural before you try to fetishize them.”

You giggled, attempting to turn on your heel and walk away before one of the girls, the quiet one grabbed your wrist.

“Hey, we’re not done talking!”

You turned to smile at her over your shoulder and tugged your wrist free.

“You may not be, but I am. Quite frankly our relationship isn’t any of your fucking business and now that I know that you think of my friends as nothing more than  sex toys to get you horny you can fuck right off.” You gave them the finger as you trailed back over to Taehyung and Jin, surprised to see the other 5 now with them as well.

You laughed as Hoseok ruffled your hair playfully.

“Where’d all that fire come from? You tore those girls apart!”

You shoved his hand away gently and shrugged like it was nothing despite you beaming with pride for yourself, the praise only making you shine that much brighter.

“Seriously! I’ve never seen you go off like that! You did great!” Jimin assured, slinging a comfortable arm around your shoulder that led to you cuddling up to him further like a cat.

Yoongi flicked his hair out of his eyes as you all began making your way to the exit. “Good thing you pulled away when you did, I was about to physically remove them myself. Still, I hope this doesn’t have negative repercussions on you.”

You huffed. “Even if it does those people are idiots anyway. I’m not worried. My job won’t be affected, that’s all I care about.”

You looked around and noticed abruptly two of the boys were missing.

“...Where’s Namjoon and Jungkook? Is everything okay?” Your voice was gentle, concern clear in your tone and Jimin held you closer subconsciously.

“He’s just fine babygirl try not to worry. Namjoon took him home so he could unwind after his breakdown.”

Hoseok mumbled, his hand running through your hair in a subconscious effort to soothe you.

“Speaking of, we should probably start heading home as well.  Don't want the food to get cold.”

The ride home was peaceful as was the meal that followed. Namjoon was as amiable as ever, but Jungkook was so quiet when you entered you actually marched to his room after acquiring its location from Yoongi as soon as you were done eating, a bag in your hands for him since he'd run off once he'd locked eyes with you. You knocked tentatively.  

“Jungkook?”

There was no answer for a long moment so you knocked again, a bit more confidently this time. “Jungkook! I know you can hear me. Even if you don't want to talk to me please at least eat. I'm worried about you.”

You waited a few more seconds and just as you were about to give up the door opened up and there stood Jungkook, a tired smile on his face as he observed you quietly for a long moment.

“...You do know how absolutely stupid the idea of a demon being unhealthy without food is right?”

His voice was pained, despite the words themselves being light enough and you frowned. “I didn't think about it honestly. Even so, Jin said you adapt to your environment… why shouldn't I think that food would be included in that?”

Jungkook merely snorted, and looked away from you to the floor, leaning against the doorjamb.

You sighed and bit your lip, gently placing the bag of food down on the floor before you continued.

“Jungkook…listen.  I'm not mad at you, or scared for that matter. Jin told me you did it because you thought it would protect me.  I'm really okay though.  It's just a tiny bruise-”

He cut you off, voice quiet but sure. “A bruise you got trying to shield me.”

His eyes were filled with fire suddenly as he hissed at you and stepped forward, cornering you against the wall beyond his door. “If I want a stupid Human's help next time I'll ask for it. Don't intervene unless I ask it of you ever again.  Got it?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, observing his expression for a moment before you smiled, voice gentle as you answered.

“... You done trying to scare me away now? Caring about people doesn't work that way dumbass, and you just pulled your stunt for the same reason so don't even try and deny it. Please, let's just agree to protect each other from now on, okay?  No self-sacrifices needed. This isn't some teenage tragedy.”

Jungkook looked taken aback at your words but eventually laughed and nodded, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck before he grinned at you, backing away a few paces to give you some space.  “Sounds perfect to me. No teenage drama bullshit here. No more self- sacrificing.  It's a promise.”

He held out his pinky then and you wrapped yours around his under the vow, both of you feeling a lot lighter and clueless to the other 6 eavesdropping demons who shared genuine smiles at your promise.

In the two weeks since you'd been living with the boys you'd realized it wasn't just Jin, Taehyung, and Jungkook with hidden sides to them.  They all had little secret gardens inside themselves, each following their own test for entry, which emphasized their individuality.  You were thankful they were even letting you in to begin with though so you couldn't complain, especially when the reward was so worth it.

Seeing who the boys truly were had led to a deeper understanding between the 8 of you and the marks they'd placed on you only further helped them to understand.  

Now that you better understood all of them, and they you, your relationship was much more amicable and even playful rather than the stone cold dominance they'd greeted you with at first. You accepted that they needed to feed sometimes but at least they didn't do it in public nearly as often as at the start and made sure you wanted it just as badly.  They still had their moments of course; they weren't saints and it really hadn't been that long all things considered but it was enough and you were content.  

To say that work was hard was an understatement. Now that the video of you protecting Jungkook was going viral, demon hating customers were recognizing you and making your life Hell while ironically enough, all your demon customers were going out of their way to stand up for you, and just generally making your life better. Thankfully, your managers were all for serving demonkind, and only 2 of your co-workers were against them. The rest were all very supportive, and even praised you for your actions. The issue was that you were working with one of them today and he was needling you about it at every opportunity, and since a highly anticipated movie was now out, this was just really not the day.

You were barely looking up at guests as they ordered, too focused on ringing them up, and getting them their orders as fast as possible. God, where were those new hires Nick had said were coming in? They were already 10 minutes late.

“We’ve got a large order, it’s for 5 of us.”

You nodded, the bright smile on your face not faltering as you put your acting skills to good use.

“That’s no problem, sir, what can I get for you?”

He stayed silent as you looked over the buttons at the register, and you finally looked up in exasperation only for your eyes to widen in surprise.

“...Taehyung? What are you doing here? How did you even find out where I worked!?”

He smirked at your surprise, shrugging “Your shirt says it, it wasn’t hard to find with a quick search. Plus, we were bored and figured we may as well see a movie.”  

A quick glance at the other 4 behind him made you raise an eyebrow.

“...Okay. Without Jimin and Namjoon?

Your voice was a quiet grumble as you forced a smile at the waiting guests behind him.

“Forget it, I don’t have the time. What do you guys want?”

Seokjin stepped forward and took over. Apparently, they were starving because they got a crap ton of food.

Of course, the only person who was with you to prepare food was your douchey coworker Kohl who immediately grumbled as he caught sight of Jungkook.

“Ugh, isn't that the monster you saved? What's it want? We shouldn't even have to cook for those things. I'll just burn their stuff.” He snickered, as if he said something funny. “Maybe it'll remind them of home.” You scoffed and muttered under your breath. “I'm not gonna let you burn my friend's food just because you feel like being bigoted. Move. I'll do it myself.” He made a show of holding his hands up in surrender as if you were the one being unreasonable before walking over to the register and taking the next guests.

You began cooking the food, doing the best you could but even you had to admit it was getting overwhelming. You were struggling with closing a particularly stubborn flatbread box when a hand filled your vision and gracefully closed it up. You turned to thank them only for your eyes to widen in surprise at the sight of Jimin smiling down at you, Namjoon just behind him, already taking care of the food before it burned. It wasn't seeing them that surprised you though.

It was the fact that they were wearing your work uniform.

“You have got to be kidding me. Why the Hell did you apply here?”

The pout on your face was cute enough to Jimin to make him giggle as he patted your head, careful to not mess up your ponytail.

“Well, we figured you could use the company and if it means we get to see movies for free that's just a bonus!’ He chirped.

You rolled your eyes but your smile was obvious enough that Jimin poked your cheek teasingly.

You turned to finish up the food only to see Namjoon already done and waiting for you. He raised an expectant eyebrow as you took a few of the cardboard containers.

“Thank you Namjoon. Now let's give this to them and-”

“More demons? God, you're such a thirsty whore aren't you?’

You instinctively put your free hand out to stop the two boys from lunging, as he taunted them by insulting you and them both and also saying God's name. You glared at Kohl.

“Watch it. I'm the only thing stopping them from making you wish you kept that stupid mouth of yours shut. Not another word or I'll report your ass to management. You know Nick's policy on discrimination in the workplace, don't you?”

You smirked as he stiffened and easily brushed past him with the food, Namjoon, and Jimin following suit as you reached the register and pushed their food forward. You could tell the demons in the line had overheard, some looking saddened on your behalf but the majority looking annoyed. The 5 incubi you'd grown so close to in particular looked especially peeved.

“It's okay. Go enjoy your movie guys. I'm used to his idiocy.”

A demon behind them in line-an ifrit if her red skin was anything to go by-patted Taehyung's shoulder. “You've found a good Human brother. Keep her close, or someone just might just steal her out from under you~” She teased, sending a wink your way before Namjoon  stepped up beside you as he pushed the rest of the other’s’ food towards them, nodding at the ifrit as they locked eyes, seeming to share a wordless communication before Namjoon spoke up.

“...We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

The boys eventually left to go enjoy their movie even though Jungkook was all but dragged inside by the others. With Jimin and Namjoon's help, you managed to get through the line, thankfully without any more issues with Kohl.

In fact, it seemed he'd disappeared entirely, not that you were complaining.  “I'm surprised you guys fared so well. That was quite the rush of people.  Good job.” You praised the two as you tidied up the backbar area where the food was made.

Jimin shrugged.  “That was nothing. Our old jobs saw rushes way more intense than that.  But thanks cutie. Here.” Jimin handed you the dishes he'd cleaned while you were doing backbar and you nodded in thanks, putting them in their proper places.

You wanted to ask, but you knew better than that  They were here now and that was all that mattered. They didn't like talking about the past.

You gave a hum of approval as you took a quick look around but narrowed your eyes as you caught sight of Kohl returning.

“You just took your break without telling us during a rush like that? What the Hell Kohl?”

He shrugged.  

“You seemed to manage just fine with your little friends, you didn't need me here. Anyway, Nick said you or your boys could go on your break. Just 2 of you though.”

You rolled your eyes.

“First off, they're not “my boys”. They're my friends, just talk about them normally. Heck, just talk to them yourself. I get you're scared of them but you don't need me to play mediator.”

He puffed up at your casual words.

“What!? I'm not scared of them!”

Namjoon snickered.  

“Oh really? That why you haven't made direct eye contact with either of us and ran away once you pissed us off?”

Kohl's face was starting to turn red and you placed a hand on Namjoon's arm, holding back a giggle of your own.  “Alright, alright, enough.  I don't want to provoke him too much. You two go on break.”

Jimin immediately shook his head at that. “Like Hell I'm leaving you here with him!” You sighed at his expected possessive response. “Jimin, I'll be fine. I'd rather your two go together. I've dealt with him on my own for months now. Go. Please. It's only 30 minutes.”

He seemed hesitant but he eventually nodded and went to clock off making you turn your attention to Namjoon who was already raising an expectant eyebrow at you.

“Go, clock off, don't worry you know I can handle my temper better than the others.”

That made you smirk at him.  

“You mean you can hide it better.  Please Namjoon, just go. I'm tired as fuck and I really don't want to fight you on this today.”

You admitted.  

He observed you for a moment before he nibbled at his lower lip, spearing Kohl with a venomous glare and smiling at him as he slowly made his way past you to clock out.

“... Try anything.  Say anything to hurt her and you won't like the consequences you little brat.”

Kohl scoffed but he suddenly paled and when you turned to look at Namjoon you were greeted by the black fading from his eyes.

You held back your smile and tried to be stern.

“Joon. Play nice. You might get scheduled alone with him for a shift sometime.”

He chuckled and looked over his shoulder to smirk one last time at Kohl, malice clear in his eyes.

“Oh, I sincerely hope so.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed, shoving him the rest of the way out and pointing towards where he could clock out.

“Alright alright, enough threats smartass go clock out.”

His smirk turned to you and your stomach flipped as you swallowed, despite yourself. He cornered you against the counter, voice a suggestive purr.

“Look at you trying to boss me around~ I vividly remember a very different tone coming out of your mouth last night.”

You growled, looking around to make sure no-one was watching and save for Kohl glaring at you with disgust before turning away no guests or other co-workers were around thankfully.

“Namjoon so help me-”

You stiffened as his lips caressed the column of your throat, shivering. You felt his lips curl into a smile at your reaction.

“Namjoon, I mean it. Stop.”

The moment the word left your lips he pulled back, eyes searching yours but you were looking at Kohl, clearly uncomfortable. Namjoon growled.

“Don’t you have a guest to tend to kid?”

Kohl smirked then, clearly pleased he’d gotten under Namjoon’s skin. He leaned against the nearby counter where the food was made and smirked, meeting Namjoon’s gaze with a clear challenge in his irises.

“Nah, I’m quite enjoying the show. So this is what you incubi freaks do huh? Work up some girl while she’s at work?  Wow. No wonder you’re sought out so much.”

Namjoon was clearly getting annoyed, you could tell from the way he smiled; it was clearly strained, and the way his dimples showed were from him gritting his teeth.

“...I’m going before I strangle this kid. If I feel anything from the mark, nothing is gonna save him.”

You laughed quietly as he stomped off, clearly aggravated, and turned your attention to the guests as a few began coming in for the next movie. Despite Kohl’s overall assholery, he was a good worker and you finished quickly.

The rest of the day went well, save for his little spat with Namjoon. Luckily he was scheduled to go home right before Jimin came back from break so when he did it was just you. Namjoon would be in a bit later since he just had to mess with you a bit before clocking off.

He’d definitely solidified for you that doms could just as easily be brats as subs, along with Jungkook.

Once you were all together again and it quieted down a bit, Namjoon decided to tease you by updating Jimin on your embarrassing display earlier while you cleaned up from the earlier rush.

“She just about melted. If it wasn’t for that fucking Kohl kid, I definitely would’ve been able to get her to clock off with us.”

Leave it to Namjoon to have an ulterior motive for acting up. You could only roll your eyes.

“I did not melt, you’re exaggerating! You can’t pull shit like that while I’m working, both of you. You’re lucky there wasn’t anybody around but they do have cameras you know?”

“Hence why I was trying to get you to go on break with us!”

You laughed in disbelief.

“You’re impossible. Can’t you go 9 hours without messing with me? Sounds to me like the other 5 just have more control than-”

You inhaled sharply, cutting yourself off as you grasped the counter in surprise at the sudden spike of pleasure that hit your core. You looked around and actually jumped a bit at the unexpected feeling of a finger teasing your core despite nothing being there.

You cursed, marching over to the two incubi now grinning knowingly at you and hissed at them.

“I take it back. Make him stop. Now.”

Another ability they’d introduced you to over these two weeks? Apparently, they could make you feel like they were touching you when they weren’t even fucking there. Only 2 of them could since it was apparently just an inherent ability. Taehyung had been merciless since he’d first used it on you and made you squeal aloud before you could stop yourself, but Hoseok had used it more sparingly since he liked seeing you come undone somewhere he could watch. Taehyung was content enough to feel it through the bond, but with his hearing, you had no doubt he was listening to you starting to come undone. Their powers of illusion were strong though, and Taehyung had tricked you before that he was actually there.

It was a little too easy to overwhelm you thanks to your sensitivity and he took full advantage of it, often using all of your senses to make you come apart.

You bit your lip to hold back a squeak as you felt his long fingers teasing your core with even gentler strokes, making you squirm for more contact that wouldn’t come unless he wanted you to experience it. His other hand joined in, making its way across your torso slowly. You looked to Namjoon and Jimin for help but Namjoon was making food in the back already and Jimin was taking guests orders. The line was piling up which meant you had to help him take orders or you were going to get overwhelmed and your coworkers would have to be called in to help which was the last thing you wanted. You gulped as you forced a shaky smile on your face even though you could feel yourself building to a release under Taehyung’s gifted fingertips.

The first few guests were semi-bearable but then, of course, he just had to make it worse on your last guest.

“What would you like today miss?”

“Aww look at what a mess you’re becoming. Who’s my good little whore hm? So wet for me already…”

You shivered as his husky voice mumbled into your ear, making your voice falter as you coughed before forcing a smile the guest's way.

“I’ll get ri-ahem. Right on that for you ma’am, just a moment.”

Jimin’s eyes flicked your way, a knowing grin twitching at his lips as he watched you rise to your tiptoes to grab a bottle of water for the woman only to violently pull back down in your haste as you felt Taehyung’s hands grip your ass. Of course, the water bottle fell thanks to your actions, but Jimin was graceful enough to catch it and place it on your counter after shooting a wink your way. Smug bastard.

“Nothing to say? You should answer when I talk to you cutie, I’d hate to make this even worse for you.”

Taehyung’s voice went from playful to demanding in seconds and your bottom half was starting to squirm where guests couldn't see as you were obviously starting to grow desperate. You clenched your fists as you saw Taehyung waltz over from around the corner as you got the woman’s popcorn, starting to rush as you knew what was coming.

You felt his body press into yours, could smell his intoxicating cologne as you shakily pushed the popcorn towards the woman. “Here you are!” You said brightly, trying not to completely fall apart as you felt Taehyung nuzzle your neck, starting to plant kisses along the length of it. You rang her up, fumbling to give her accurate change as you felt Taehyung’s lips move from your neck to your shoulder, your collarbone, your thigh.

“Have a n-nice day!” You gritted out, waving until she was out of sight.

The second she was you ducked out of sight of the guests by the popcorn popper, Taehyung following easily as you tried to keep control of yourself.

He growled in your ear then making you release a half-sigh, half-whimper at the sound.

“What a pretty picture you make like this. Absolutely crumbling under my touch, the sound of my voice...you’re such a bad girl, keeping your sounds to yourself. I’ll have to punish you later.”

“Please…”

Your voice was a shaky whisper, clearly scared of anyone overhearing.

“Please what? Hm? Use your words or I’ll do whatever I fucking want to you.”

You whispered breathlessly.

“Oh Hell please...please just let up. You’re driving me crazy and if anyone saw-”

“They’d see what a filthy little slut you are for your master wouldn’t they?”

He cut you off, a cruel smirk spreading across his face as you clenched your thighs at the degrading words dripping from his lips.

“Beg. Beg me to have mercy on you even though a horny bitch like you doesn’t deserve it.”

Immediately mumbled pleads came from your lips.

“Master please, please I’m so desperate! I can’t take this while at work, please have pity on me!”

You looked down in shame at your quiet muttering but Taehyung forced you to raise your chin with a firm hand and smirked as you met his gaze, causing chills to go through you.

“...Very well. I’ll show mercy this time, since you behaved. But you’re in for the punishment of a lifetime once we’re home. Not responding when I ask you questions. Not giving me your reactions.”

“But I was work-”

“And now trying to talk back? You’re in for a very long night beautiful. A very long night.”

You whimpered but nodded, lowering your head briefly in submission as Taehyung released your chin, and therefore missing the transfer that happened as the real Taehyung slid into the place of his illusion.

“Good girl. Now come with me to say goodbye to the others. After you finish your shift you’re coming right home so we can deal with you properly.”

Hearing Taehyung say “we” was almost enough to make you whine all over again. It was always worse when it was more than just one of them. You trailed after him and blushed as you suddenly realized the others no doubt heard the mess Taehyung had made of you, not just Namjoon and Jimin.

You waved shyly at them, but Hoseok instead pulled you into a hug making you laugh as you relaxed in his hold and hugged him back. He was always good at snapping you out of your submissive state after a session like that. You went down the line hugging the others but Jungkook wore a scowl when you went to hug him making you frown in confusion. He spat out his words with irritation clear in his tone.

“Where’s that Kohl asshole? Is he still here?”

You shook your head, trying to hold back your fond smile at his angry tone lest you make him more annoyed.

“He went home for the day earlier. Sorry, Kook. Don’t worry. Namjoon scared him earlier.”

He scoffed.

“Not good enough. Maybe I should get a job here too…”

“Jungkook, you’re too possessive. I can handle myself around Kohl, it’s you guys he doesn't like. You, most of all. I could care less what he thinks of me, I know I’m not a whore and so do you guys, no matter what he thinks and that’s what matters to me.”

You looked up at the feeling of someone petting your hair and smiled at Jin as Taehyung hugged you from behind, gently.

Jungkook grinned and you realized you’d made a mistake when he nodded. “Yup. I’m definitely working here. I can’t wait to drive that kid batty. It’s gonna be great.”

You could only sigh.

It wasn’t until later that something you deemed insignificant was not so at all, at least to the others as they sat you down that night, once you’d taken a shower and eaten dinner.

“We’ve all talked it over, and we’ve decided it’s time to take you to Void’s.”

You raised an eyebrow at that.

“The demon club, right? I don’t mind but can I ask why? You’ve only mentioned it in passing before, why the sudden need to go now?”

Jimin stepped forward, an uncharacteristically serious expression overtaking his face.

“That Ifrit who told us to keep you close was actually a friend of ours. We’ve known her for several centuries. She was warning us that other demons that were there today were targeting you by joking about keeping you safe.”

Yoongi nodded in agreement.

“We need to make it known to the rest of demonkind that you belong to us. But before we do that, we’re going to need to give you the Mark.”

You suddenly felt a bit nervous.

“Is...Is it going to hurt? How does it work?”

Jin smiled gently, though his posture was stiff.

“You’ll be perfectly fine. There will be a bit of pain at first, but no more than what you’ve already experienced with us. There will be a different kind of pain after we have the basic outline done but we’ll warn you before it happens.”

“Do you trust us?”

This question came from Namjoon and you nodded immediately.

“Of course I do.”

He nodded.

“...You’ll be sharing a part of your soul with us, and we’ll be doing the same with you. A Mark is permanent and you’ll wear it for the rest of your days. It’s not as absolute as a blood bond but it’s damn close, and a lot stronger than the baby marks we’ve been littering your body with. You’re sure you’re prepared for this? There’s no going back once we’ve started.”

You nodded without hesitation.

“I’ve grown to see different sides of you all over these two weeks. To see who you truly are and come to care about each and every one of you in different ways. If you think this is necessary to keep me safe...then I say let’s do it. I have total faith in you guys.”

Jin turned to the others and nodded at all of them, you included.

“...Very well. We’ll do it tomorrow. Prepare yourself accordingly everyone. Let’s get some sleep.”

A/N: There we are!! I’d love to hear your thoughts as always on the chapter and I hope you guys are as excited for the following chapter as I am! I can’t wait to continue on this journey with you all! 

I’ll be making a separate post about this probably tomorrow but please for character asks, I’m going to ask you send in specific questions, for one boy at a time, since I think I’ve diversified my characters enough at this point for that to be possible. 

Character reactions will also be a thing but they'll be separate and I’ll be switching to a hyung line, maknae line system for all future requests. 

For now, character asks are open, but character reactions are closed as I finish working on the ones I currently have! Love you guys and I hope the wait was worth it! <3 -Sheridan

[vengeancedemons]

devil hit his second stride // self para (pt 1)

summary: In Hell, Robbie runs into a familiar face who convinces him to stop wallowing in self pity and make a move to stop his uncle from ripping his life to shreds. trigger warnings: hell, death, mentions of violence  featuring: robbie reyes, phil coulson, mentions of elias morrow, gabriel reyes, daisy johnson ( @daisyquakes ), and jessica jones ( @goddamndumbass ) word count: 4320 no one SAY ANYTHING

There were a lot of metaphors about Hell, a lot of famous quotes invoking the word. Robbie had read up on them after his death and subsequent resurrection, studied them as if they might somehow hold answers to what happened to him. Churchill famously instructed those who were going through Hell to keep going. Twain once quipped that one should go to Heaven for the climate, but Hell for the company. Sartre claimed that Hell was other people. Robbie had gathered a whole collection of quips and quotes, a whole world of things writers and politicians and activists said were Hell, because he’d known the deal he’d made to save his own life only had one end result and he’d wanted to be prepared. He’d been an idiot, in that regard. 

There was no preparing for Hell.

There was no making it easier. You couldn’t “keep going,” no matter how easy Churchill made it sound. You didn’t enjoy the company the way Twain joked that you might. The other people Sartre had feared were just as lost, just as tortured, just as absorbed in the terribleness of it all as you were. No metaphor Robbie had come across had managed to do justice to the real thing. Hell was Hell. There was no other way of describing it, no way of putting it into terms the average person would understand. You either knew it or you didn’t. You’d either been there or you couldn’t possibly imagine it. And Robbie could imagine it well. 

It was different, this time around. The last time (the last two times, rather), he’d at least gone out on his own terms. He’d chosen to exit stage left with Eli’s shoulders gripped in his hands. He decided to take the Darkhold back to where it belonged even if that meant he’d wind up where he belonged, too. And the people he’d cared about hadn’t been left in the best positions, but at least he’d known they’d be okay. He’d known Daisy would look out for Gabe, had known that Coulson would keep an eye on the SHIELD agents he’d begrudgingly come to tolerate. There hadn’t been an awful lot to fear.

This time was different.

With Eli running around in Robbie’s skin, there was no overselling the shitstorm that was waiting for the people he cared for. Daisy, who’d taken up residence on his couch the last few months, would be a burden Eli wouldn’t want to put up with. Jessica, who was almost a friend as much as someone you’d once nearly plowed over with your car could hope to be, would be an inconvenience his uncle wouldn’t want to deal with. And Gabe… It was too much to hope that Eli would leave Gabe out of things. It was too much to wish that his brother might remain blissfully ignorant in L.A. while their uncle wreaked havoc in New York. Whatever Eli had planned, Gabe would undoubtedly be caught in the crossfire the same way he had the night of that street race, when the Fifth Street gang saw Eli’s car and open fired with no regard for who was actually inside. And Robbie was powerless to stop any of it.

Shit, he was worse than powerless. The last time he’d been in Hell, he’d at least had the limited protection of the Rider keeping him out of the worst of it. It meant giving up control more often than not, but it made him relatively difficult to harm. Just like on Earth, the Rider had protected Robbie from damage in Hell. He’d made sure Robbie won most of the fights he got into, ensured that anyone who fucked with them had a generally bad day. Eli made sure Robbie was without that protection this go around, and that must have been intentional in more ways than one. His uncle had wanted the power of the Ghost Rider, beyond shadow of a doubt… but he’d also wanted to make sure Robbie was without it. And he’d absolutely succeeded in that.

You couldn’t die in Hell. Robbie figured that out his very first day, when he’d looked down at his chest to see a blade sticking out of it, rusted and bloody. You felt every ounce of pain dealt out to you, felt the way your heart tore itself to shreds as it beat around metal, felt your lungs fill up with blood and dust until there was no room left to breathe, but you couldn’t die. It was like one of the shitty video games Gabe used to play --- you bled, you ached, you faded away, and you popped back up someplace else to do it all again. Death would have been far easier. Anything would have been easier. Everyone there knew it.

It was why he’d also learned another important lesson his first Rider-less day in Hell. He’d learned about a rumor, a legend that desperate souls accepted as truth because there had to be some kind of end to all of this. It was a Fifth Street goon who’d blurted it out to him, a man terrified of Robbie who’d never even met the Rider. (Robbie had taken care of plenty of gang members without the Devil making an appearance at all, in the early days. There had been so much anger and nowhere to put it. It was inevitable.) 

‘There’s a story,’ the man had said, practically blubbering at the mere sight of the man who had taken his life. ‘If you take out the guy who killed you down here, you get out. You get to move on.’ 

‘Move on to what?’ Robbie had demanded, but the man hadn’t known. All he had known, all he had heard was that removing the person responsible for your presence in Hell from its depths meant a ticket to someplace else. And everyone figured that nothing could possibly be worse than this. 

So they fought. They beat each other to death only to yield no result when the person they were trying so desperately to remove appeared again out of their reach, breathing oxygenless through deceased lungs. It was utterly pointless and they knew it, but it was the only thing they knew how to do. It was the Fifth Street member who’d told him the legend that taught Robbie what happened when you died in Hell, putting a sword through his back the moment he turned away and shrugging unapologetically when Robbie turned back to him. ‘I just had to try it,’ the man said, ‘just once.’ And the expression on his face made it clear that whatever he’d hoped would happen wasn’t happening and Robbie had died and come back for what wasn’t the first time and certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Robbie didn’t know if the legend had a grain of truth to it. For him, he didn’t guess it mattered much either way. He couldn’t get rid of the person responsible for sending him to Hell, and it wasn’t because his uncle was out of reach. No, Robbie couldn’t get rid of the guy responsible for his current predicament because it wasn’t Eli at all. The only person Robbie had to blame for his presence in the underworld was Robbie. He was the one who sold his soul to the Devil for a prize he’d already won. He was the one who’d been clueless to the fact that his uncle was being driven mad right in front of his eyes. He was the one arrogant enough to believe he could make a quick day trip to Hell and pluck a soul from damnation without facing any kind of consequence. The worst person in Robbie’s life, the one responsible for every goddamn shitshow he was a part of, had always lived in the fucking mirror. He’d always known that.

And so, with no way of knowing what was going on up above and no hope of finding his way out of Hell any time soon, he focused on survival. He focused on dying as little as possible, on staying away from the Fifth Street gang members he’d gifted with all-expense-paid tickets to Hell and avoiding Lucy Bauer and her gaggle of scientists whose ghosts he’d torn from their places on Earth and keeping distance between himself and all the trash he’d taken out since the Rider brought him back from the dead. Some days, he did okay. Some days, he bled out a hundred times an hour. It was a matter of luck more than anything else. 

Today, he was doing all right. The safe spot he’d found would be burned by tomorrow --- news of people’s whereabouts traveled quickly in Hell, especially when the person in question was one that large groups of souls were seeking out --- but for the moment, his feet were on solid ground and his blood wasn’t spilling from his veins. He didn’t know how long he’d been here. Time moved differently in Hell, crawled by one moment and sped up the next. His first go-round, he’d tried to keep count. He’d tallied up what he’d thought might have been days in his head, counted them into months and years. By his count, he’d been in Hell nearly a hundred years then, but when he got back to Earth he’d found only months had passed. He hadn’t bothered counting when he brought the Darkhold back. His high school teachers might have frequently assigned him the title of slow learner, but he could take a lesson when it was obvious and this one was. Time in Hell was relative. 

And there was no sense counting it up when you knew it wasn’t going to end.

It was a realization he’d come to rather quickly, after Eli tossed him out. He went from fighting a battle in the back of his own mind to staring out at all-too-familiar fiery slopes, and he’d known in an instant that this was how things would be for him now. No one could be lucky enough to escape Hell three times, especially now that he didn’t have Ghost Rider’s powers to fall back on. This time, Robbie figured, he was here to stay. 

So he focused on the moment in front of him. He focused on the fact that, today, he wasn’t fighting off old enemies, wasn’t killing the same people over and over again or dying so many times that he barely had enough time to draw breath between one slaughter and the next. And he was wound tight and jumping at the slightest sound, but so was everyone. That was a side effect of Hell, and there was no shot at ever avoiding it. 

It was lucky, he supposed, that he stopped to look before putting the blade he’d stolen off an old New York City gang member through the chest of the person who walked up behind him. Most days, Robbie wouldn’t have bothered. After so long in Hell, he’d lost any hope that anyone he met wouldn’t strike him down where he stood. But this time… This time, the familiar face that greeted him wasn’t one of the gang members he’d taken out in New York or L.A. It wasn’t the ghost of some scientist who’d worked with his uncle, wasn’t a wannabe supervillain with a justified grudge. It was, perhaps, a man whose death Robbie was still responsible for, but not one who would kill him for it. 

Robbie’s shoulders dropped at the sight of him, grip slackening on the switchblade he’d been white-knuckling. He closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing thickly before letting them slide back open to reveal that the figure was still there, still watching him with inquisitive eyes. They stayed like that for a moment, a pair of ghosts staring into eyes they’d thought they’d seen the last of, each waiting on the other to make the first move. Finally, Robbie shifted enough to make room for another body to sit on the ground beside him, and his newfound companion moved forward to take the silent invitation.

“I’d heard you were back,” Coulson said quietly. “Didn’t want to believe it.”

“Yeah, well,” Robbie sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face, “seems like I’ve got a hard time staying away.”

“Haven’t heard anything about the other guy popping back up,” Coulson prodded, and Robbie tasted bile in the back of his throat, which was stupid. There was no bile in his stomach, no food that could threaten to make its way back up. He hadn’t eaten since a slice of cold pizza Daisy left on the counter just a few hours before Eli made his presence known, and while he hadn’t been keeping track of the hours he knew there were a hell of a lot of them between now and then. 

“It’s just me this time,” he said, tasting ash in his mouth with the words, because Coulson would want to know why. He would want to know how, and if he asked, Robbie was going to tell him. Robbie would blurt out everything, everything, and while Coulson might not hold what happened to him after he let the Rider into his head against Robbie, he knew the man would never forgive him if anything happened to Daisy. And right now, in this moment? Robbie couldn’t promise that she was okay.

“Is it like what happened before?” Coulson pressed, because, in spite of his unassuming outward appearance, he was still a spy. He was still one of the best agents SHIELD had ever had, and Robbie was still a fairly shitty liar. “It went into someone else, like it did with Mack?”

Robbie couldn’t look at him. He kept his eyes down on his hands, on the stolen switchblade with blood rusting the metal. He couldn’t remember now if the blood was there when he got it or if he’d put it there himself. He didn’t think it made much of a difference. “Not exactly,” he replied after a long pause, because Coulson would read a silence just as easily as a lie. 

Another silence stretched between them, a canyon of stillness as Coulson looked at Robbie and Robbie looked anywhere else. “Robbie,” Coulson said, his voice somehow firm and gentle at the same time, and Robbie had never been the sort of person who held his heart on his sleeve but fuck, it took every ounce of strength in him not to cry. 

Coulson, he realized with the smallest ounce of hysteria in his thoughts, sounded like what he’d always figured a father might sound like. He was nothing like Alberto Reyes, who’d walked out long before Robbie had a clear picture of his face saved into memory. He was nothing like Elias Morrow, who’d been more than willing to send Robbie to Hell for his own selfish gain. Coulson was the closest thing Robbie had seen in his life to a decent goddamn father figure, and what had Robbie shown him in return? He’d gotten him sent to Hell.

He’d probably gotten Daisy killed. 

Robbie felt very cold all of a sudden, a shiver going down his spine. Eli said once that there was meaning to that, joked about it when Robbie was a child getting used to having an uncle where he’d once had a mother and father. That means someone is walking over the place where you’ll be buried, he’d said, feigning seriousness until Robbie’s eyes widened and he couldn’t hold back a laugh. Robbie always wondered if it was true. He wondered what his grave would look like now, if he’d have one. Was a grave yours if the body in it hadn’t belonged to you, in the end? Were you still a person if someone else was walking around in your skin? At what point did a man become a ghost?

“It was Eli,” he said, so sudden it surprised even himself. “It was… When you saw us, before, me and Daisy, Eli followed us out somehow. He hitched a ride inside my head. Rode around up there for months until he had the strength to…” Robbie trailed off, that phantom nausea tugging at his gut again, compelling him to expel food he hadn’t eaten from a body he didn’t have. “He kicked me out. He’s running around up there in my skin, with my face, with --- With the Rider in my head with him. And I don’t, I don’t know how to stop him. I don’t think I can stop him.”

The sea of information settled between them, and Robbie could swear he saw the words floating in the air, fading in and out of existence as Coulson processed it all. He didn’t know if the shock on the agent’s face was because of the tale he’d spun, the fact that it was more words than he’d probably ever heard Robbie say in one sitting, or some mixture of the two. The silence was a heavy one, a weight on his chest that he didn’t know how to breathe around. And he didn’t need to breathe down here, not when he was already dead, but he still felt as if he was suffocating. When he tore his eyes from the switchblade to risk a glance in Coulson’s direction, the man was looking at him with an unreadable expression and Robbie wondered if he might break his day-long streak of not being covered in his own blood. And god, he would have let him. If Coulson tried to take the knife from his hand and drive it through his fucking skull in that moment, Robbie would have let him. 

Finally, Coulson shifted, breaking the silence with the question Robbie had known was coming. “Does Daisy know?” And even though he’d known Coulson would ask, it was a punch to the goddamn gut. Robbie closed his eyes again, letting his head drop. He would have preferred the knife to the skull, he thought. He would have preferred anything else.

“I don’t know,” he replied, so quiet he wasn’t sure Coulson would be able to hear it. He wasn’t sure he wanted Coulson to hear it, wasn’t sure he wanted the other man to know. Robbie had failed Daisy, and he didn’t even know how deep that failure went. He didn’t even know if she was alive right now, didn’t know if Eli would try to fool her or if he’d kill her the moment she walked into the apartment. At one point, he might have liked to think he knew his uncle well enough to predict his next move, but now? Now, Robbie wasn’t sure he’d ever known Eli at all. He’d never taken Eli for a murderer, but he was one. He’d never taken Eli for a narcissist, but he’d nearly gotten his entire fucking family killed in order to pursue his own selfish goals.

He’d never believed Eli was capable of hurting him, but he’d sent him to Hell without a hint of hesitation. 

There was a sound off to the side, a quiet click of Coulson’s tongue as he mulled the new information over, and Robbie wondered if this was the part where the knife would slip from his hand to Coulson’s, if this was where he’d die and respawn someplace else, ready to die again. He braced for a blow that didn’t come, prepared for an imaginary hit. Instead, Coulson sighed. Robbie opened his eyes, glanced over at the man cautiously. Coulson was staring at him, studying him intently as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, deep in thought. Finally, he broke the silence with a question: “So what are you going to do about it?”

Robbie blinked, eyes wide as the words settled into his head. He opened his mouth and closed it. Once, twice, three times. Finally, he spoke, and the confusion was clear in his tone. “What?”

“What are you going to do about it?” Coulson repeated, and the words made just as little sense this time as they had before because what? Robbie was in Hell. He had no access to Earth, no way of knowing what was happening there, and certainly no way to stop it. He didn’t have a plan because he had no options. 

“What can I do about it?” He asked, incredulous. 

Coulson quirked a brow, looking so utterly unimpressed that Robbie had to run through his story again in his head, had to look for the parts he’d missed in his situation that made Coulson believe he had anything resembling options here. He came up short, again and again. If he had choices, he had no idea what they were. And still, Coulson looked like he was missing something obvious. 

Finally, the agent seemed to take pity on Robbie with a sigh, shaking his head. “Robbie,” he said patiently, sounding very much like a man preparing to explain something simple to a particularly stupid toddler, “your body is still your body. Isn’t it?”

“I… guess so?” Robbie wasn’t sure what he was getting at, didn’t know what this had to do with anything. His body was still his body, but it wasn’t accessible. It was up on Earth and he was down in Hell and it wasn’t like there was an express train he could take to get back to it.

“And it’s still alive,” Coulson pushed, and Robbie tilted his head to the side, still not understanding the relevance. 

“I don’t think it would do Eli much good to kill it,” he allowed, because that would really defeat the purpose of whatever Eli had planned. Besides, Robbie didn’t think the Rider would let his body die, even if Robbie wasn’t in it. The guy needed something to hitch a ride in, didn’t he?

“So your body is alive,” Coulson continued slowly, “and your soul is alive.”

“Is that what we are?” Robbie questioned. “Souls?” He’d never given it much thought before and, given Coulson’s expression, it wasn’t a conversation they had time for now, either. 

“I don’t think you understand the point,” Coulson said which, fair. Robbie definitely didn’t understand the point of whatever it was Coulson was getting at, but whose fault was that? Coulson was the one being a cryptic old bastard, as if SHIELD and its shitty secrecy was an important thing in Hell. Robbie sighed, shaking his head and motioning for Coulson to just come out and say whatever obvious thing he was missing. “If your soul is alive and your body is alive,” Coulson said, finally taking enough pity on Robbie to spell the damn thing out, “that means you’re alive, Robbie. You aren’t dead. You’re just lost.”

“I’m not lost,” Robbie argued, because he was nothing if not contrary. “I know exactly where I am. I’m in Hell, Coulson. What’s it matter if my body’s alive if I can’t get to it.” 

“Have you tried?”  Coulson sounded angry now and Robbie remembered that, while he sounded fatherly in the way none of the men in Robbie’s life ever had, he wasn’t Robbie’s father. He was a guy who’d found Robbie at a strange time in his life and offered him guidance he hadn’t known he’d needed, but he wasn’t his father. If Coulson was a father figure to anyone, it was the person up on Earth with the body he was demanding he try to find a way back to. Fathers, when they were decent, protected the people they cared for. And right now, for Coulson, that wasn’t Robbie.

It was Daisy. 

And Robbie got it. He really did. If it had been Gabe in trouble, he’d be angry too. He’d be chastising whoever he was with and demanding they do something, but what was there to be done? “People don’t just walk out of Hell, Coulson,” he snapped.

“Didn’t you do that?” Coulson retorted. “Multiple times?”

“Yeah, with a demon in my head and a chain that could open portals to other dimensions. You see either of those things laying around now?”

“What if I had a way?” 

Robbie’s head snapped up, and he searched Coulson’s face for any hint of humor and came up short. “You got a way out of Hell,” he repeated slowly, “and you… What? Waited ‘til now to bring it up?”

“I have a rumor,” Coulson amended, and that made more sense. Rumors were like currency down here. They passed from person to person, gained value where they went. Everyone was looking for an out of some kind or another, but no one had ever found one.

“Rumors are usually bullshit,” Robbie pointed out, looking back down to his switchblade and twirling it in his fingers absently. “Plenty of rumors about ways out, but I never heard of anybody actually making it. You know why that is?” He paused, though not long enough for Coulson to answer before he provided the answer all his own: “Because the rumors are fucking horseshit.” 

“Or because the wrong people are trying,” Coulson countered. “Look, this rumor says it’s a door. The only people who can pass through it are people who shouldn’t be here. Like, for example, someone living?” 

“Or a good man who didn’t earn his spot,” Robbie replied, the realization springing on him all at once. “Shit, Coulson, if this thing’s real…”

“We could both get out,” Coulson confirmed with a nod. Robbie sucked in a breath through his teeth, weighing their options. If it were just him with a shot to get out of Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d take it. The thought of getting his hopes up just to have them dashes was somehow worse than the idea of never trying at all. But if this could mean a second chance for Coulson, too…

Robbie looked up, a newfound determination in his eyes. “Well, shit,” he sighed, shaking his head. “What do we have to lose?”

[randomfandomimagine]

Fate Is Sealed. Chapter 12

Fandom: John Wick

Ship: John x Elizabeth (OC)

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Read it on AO3!!

That time I spent with John almost managed to make me forget about the real world, about the assassins and the debts and the danger. And then the nightmares found me again, not allowing me any more of a respite.

My footsteps were firm as I approached Gaige’s building, my determination being unshakeable as I told my heart to stop racing. Nonetheless, I gripped the gun in my hand so tightly that my fingers hurt.

I noticed a lack of noise as I stood before the door. The lights were on inside, but there was a very telling silence that caused my stomach to churn. I ignored all of this and adamantly swung the door open to reveal the office.

There where dozens of goons usually reunited, tending to their devious business, were now empty chairs and desks. Several bottles of alcohol were all over the place, opened and unfinished. The air felt heavy and eerie.

Daring to walk further and head for Gaige’s personal office, I found the door already open. There was no one in sight, not even Gaige himself. Treading lightly, I immersed myself in the room and took an attentive look around.

For the most part, everything seemed in its place. I looked at Gaige’s empty chair, noticing a blood stain that had soaked through the thick fabric. If he had been sitting there when he obtained that wound, it would have gone directly to his heart. I had a vague idea of what happened, and who did it.

Shaking my head to focus on the task ahead, I went through the drawers looking for a specific file. My eyes scanned the folders, absently recognizing familiar faces of goons I had run into thanks to Gaige. A tightness formed on my throat when I passed Delfino and Dominic’s files. But right after theirs, I found the headshot of a woman at the front of a folder.

I opened the file reading ‘Simone Brasher’ and skimmed for any important information that would tell me where she was hiding. A certain address caught my eye, so I memorized it and slammed the file closed.

As I made my way outside the building, I pulled out my phone and dialed John’s number. The mixture of emotions I was experiencing clouded my judgment, but I was lucid enough for that.

The line beeped for several seconds, until there was as click followed by a deep voice that I knew very well.

“Eli-?” Before he could even finish his sentence, I impatiently interrupted him.

“Why did you do it when I told you not to?” Every fiber of my being was overcome by anger, and I could not control myself. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. I felt powerful for once, and that sensation was intoxicating.

“Do what?” John’s tone was somewhat soft and innocent.

“You know what” I scoffed in annoyance. “I doubt Gaige and his people magically disappeared”

John sighed on the other end, taking several seconds before replying.

“Elizabeth, he went after me again” A pang of guilt initiated in my nape, but I repressed it before it could take over my mighty fury.  

“Interesting, our business clash again” I sarcastically replied, giving him a mocking smirk even if he couldn’t see it.

“This isn’t you…” John lowered his voice to a sad murmur. “Where… Where are you?”

“On my way to make some justice” When I reached my bike, I climbed on it again. “About time”

“You’re gonna get yourself killed!” He suddenly exclaimed in frustration. “And even if you don’t, you know this is wrong. You’re not like this!”

“Don’t look for me” Was all I said before hanging up, even if the slight guilt from before returned stronger.

I grunted in annoyance to myself as I grabbed on to the handlebars of my motorbike and started the engine. I had to do this.

Like I had told John, I needed to do something. I was done sitting still and taking all that abuse, being manipulated and frightened. Feeling small and unsafe. Acting like John Wick seemed the best way to do it.

As I put the bike to a halt I could see the docks. Not far from them was a small rundown warehouse. The windows were broken and the humidity had eaten through the wood that coated the outside. But I knew it was the place.

Wielding my gun again, I walked towards the warehouse. That was it, the point of no return. And I was willing to do whatever it took, to let whatever to happen. I just needed to act no matter what. It was something I had to do.

The door was halfway open, and inside I found a figure facing its back to me. I recognized the expensive clothes and the blonde ponytail. She looked over her shoulder with the sound of my footsteps.

“You just can’t have enough, can you?” Simone stood up from her the big crate she was sitting in and turned to me. “You were really stupid to come here”

I frowned when I noticed her mascara had run over her cheeks, leaving dark traces along her skin. I was distracted from that detail when she took a step closer to me. Even if several meters still separated us, I grit my teeth and lifted my arm to point the gun at her. She didn’t even bat an eye at the movement.

“You’re gonna pay” She bitterly said, continuing her advance. “Your boyfriend killed my friends. And my boss”

“Maybe they shouldn’t have tried to kill him” I offered, tilting my head. “And maybe you shouldn’t have murdered my father in cold blood”

“He had unfinished business with Gaige when he retired” Simone smirked, portraying a mockingly friendly and innocent voice. “What kind of an example would that set?”

“He would have paid it” Winston himself had said it, my father was good at his job, he had plenty of money. “Gaige didn’t want him dead, dammit, he would have paid it”

“You see, I wasn’t so sure about that” Her condescending attitude was making my blood boil. “And sure enough, one day all records of his money were gone”

My bike. He bought me an expensive motorbike so I could be independent, and he left the rest of the money for me so I could make it on my own. He knew he was going to get killed.

Forcing myself out of my thoughts, I focused back on her and got startled when I realized how much closer she was to me now. I cocked the gun as a warning, but that didn’t hinder her advance towards me.

“And I’m going to kill you” When I piped up, she finally stopped walking.

“Very funny, Lizzie” Smirking still, she crossed her arms over her chest. “He used to call you that, you know. Wouldn’t stop talking about you, Lizzie this, Lizzie that”

Before I could stop myself, I had pulled the trigger and landed a bullet on her upper arm, putting a hole through her shiny jacket. She glared up at me in outrage after checking her new wound in disbelief.

I mockingly wrinkled my nose in response, glad of my impulsive act. I was going to kill her, but she was going to suffer first.

Determined, I took a step forward just for her to hinder my advance. Out of nowhere, she had pulled out a dagger and thrown it at me. I grunted when I felt the blade sinking in my shoulder, just above my collarbone.

I didn’t drop the gun, and in fact I tightened my grip on it. I felt out of myself as I took ahold of the dagger encrusted in my skin with my free hand and pulled it out, screaming in a sound that didn’t seem to come out of my own throat.

A fleeting thought told me that maybe pulling it out wasn’t the best idea, but it soon passed when it was replaced with a lack of any logical reasoning.

“This is for calling me a bitch” Watching Simone’s smirk only further fueled the liquid fire in my veins, and I once again moved without thinking about it twice. Barely stopping to look at the bloody dagger in my hand, I threw back at her with as much force as I could. It tore a yelp of pain from her lips as it sunk into her thigh.

Doing the same as I did, she sharply pulled the dagger out of her leg and wielded it fiercely. I raised my gun and pointed it at her as a warning. Neither of us moved at first, seizing each other up.

A little voice was shouting for me to shoot her already, but the gun felt extremely heavy in my hand. There were so many dazed thoughts rushing through my head that I couldn’t focus on one.

I wrapped my other hand around the butt of the gun to stabilize my aim, but Simone was already on the move. I pulled the trigger, but failed as I was rattled by the ferocity with which she ran to me. The bullet got lost in the distance and so I decided to stick to what I did best. Close range hand to hand combat.

"You never had the stomach for this" Simone smirked, ready to take me on.

I lunged at her, tackling Simone to the ground. We struggled for several seconds, landing punches on each other until I was suddenly pushed on my back and pinned against the ground. I tried wiggling out of her lock but found that she was too strong.  

I grabbed a handful of dirt and tossed it at her face. Simone tried turning her head, but she wasn’t fast enough to avoid it getting into her eyes. I smirked at the thought that I had played dirty and momentarily blinded her.

Jumping to my feet, I took her from behind and put her in a lock of my own, cocking the gun and resting it against her temple. It was suddenly hard to breathe, and my heartbeat drummed against my ears. I watched Simone as she shut her eyes tight, cringing at what might happen next. A pang of guilt struck my chest as I found a twisted satisfaction at the sight.

“Drop the gun!” A voice said out of nowhere, forcing me to look upwards.

I gulped when I saw a group of six people surrounding me, all pointing weapons at me. That snake had called for backup. I didn’t know how or when, but she had.

Gritting my teeth, I held my hands up in surrender and let go of her. I bit the inside of my cheek to contain the anger I felt when I heard her scornful chuckle. I was tempted to shoot her still, even if it would definitely trigger my own death.

“Drop it” Simone held her hand up, smirking as her other hand motioned over to the people threatening my life to get closer.

I begrudgingly gave her my gun, which she took with a mocking head nod. At least I felt a slight pride at the fact that she considered me enough of a threat now to call for backup. Even if it was through John’s influence.

“Any last words?” She said, lifting the gun up to my head.

I still felt out of breath, like I had run a marathon. But my hatred for her was so great that I refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing I was frightened.

“You’re still a bitch” I bitterly said, earning a glare from her.

"Shoot her" Was her response to my defiance.

I closed my eyes, prepared for death. After all, I had always known it was the only way out of that mess. I had merely postponed it, but I had always believed it was my destiny, that my fate was sealed to meet a violent end. At least I had found some good things on the way to my demise.

“I wouldn’t do that” My heart skipped a beat when I recognized that gruff voice.

Opening my eyes, I saw John approaching us, machine gun in hand ready to fire. The men and women working with Simone hesitated. I calmly lowered my arms back to my sides at the sight of him approaching.

“Lower your weapons” He said, a calm yet clear order.

They didn’t even wait for Simone’s approval, all of them instantly obeyed the Boogeyman’s order. The tension was tangible in the air as all the present at the moment eyed each other.

“Elizabeth” John called, startling me slightly for directly addressing me. “Go”

“But-“

“I’ll handle this”

“John…”

“Go!”

I recognized the dangerous look in his dark eyes and decided to oblige. I didn’t want him solving my business, but I knew he could easily take them all.

It was my chance to fix that mistake, to forgive about that quest for revenge before it was too late. Although I realized it was already too late when Simone, wanting to punish me for my audacity with the attempt on her life, followed after me.

“Shit shit, fuck” I muttered, taking my other gun and running at top speed.

As I let my legs do their job, I focused on my shaky hands to make sure that the magazine was charged and then shoved it back on its chamber.  

Hoping I would outrun Simone, I rummaged through my brain in search of a safe place I could go to. My train of thought was interrupted when I heard gunshots, so I looked over my shoulder without stopping my dash.

John had resorted to his Boogeyman ways again as he easily took the six of them at once. He even allowed himself the distraction of blindly shooting Simone to slow her down and give me an advantage. The blonde screamed when the bullet reached her leg, but she continued her pursue on me.

I focused up ahead again, taking advantage of her small pause to recover from the wound and running for my life.

The Continental was the safest and closest place I could think of, so I barged inside and hurried for the elevator without even saying hello to Charon.

Simone was far behind me, but I was pretty sure that she had seen the direction I was taking and assumed where I was headed. It was a matter of time before she reached me, so I hoped I would at least lose her on the many floors of the hotel building. I didn’t exactly trust her not to break the rules.

I ran to the elevator and waited for it to arrive. The anxiety was building up in my chest as I knew that every millisecond was immensely valuable. Once it arrived, I quickly opened the grills door, but before I could come in, someone grabbed me from behind.

I screamed as a hand tugged at me and grimaced when my back hit the ground. The sight of Simone looking absolutely feral took my breath away, or maybe how hard I landed.

“Excuse me!” I heard Charon’s voice exclaim, probably alarmed by my screaming.

Simone grunted in annoyance and carelessly threw me inside the open elevator, following closely behind and pressing a button so the doors would close.

Charon was arriving just as the grill that served as doors closed. I stared at him from the ground, bearing a begging expression that I hoped he would understand. My anxiety intensified when I saw his familiar face disappear as the elevator went up.

While she was distracted with him, I jumped to my feet and pushed her against the metallic door. Before she could turn around, I punched her in the kidney.

Right after, she did turn around –at an incredible speed –and crossed my face with her fist. I stumbled backwards, causing the elevator to shake but luckily not stop. The last thing I needed was to be stuck in an elevator with Simone.

I reached out with my hand to stabilize myself as it touched the wall and leaned against it, holding my jaw in pain. She was already prepared to retaliate, so I kneed her under the chin. As I lunged at her to try and attack, she quickly held me in a lock.

I was pushed against the wall, then she held my head by the hair and slammed it against the fluorescents. She repeated the process until I painfully felt it break against my forehead, as well as some blood dripping from the cut.

Not content with this, Simone continued smashing my head against the now broken lights. Although I felt slightly faint and my ears were ringing, probably because of a mild concussion, I gathered the strength to hold my hands against the wall to try and offer some resistance to her blows.

Just then, the elevator stopped moving and the doors opened. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction from her side, I pushed her against the corner and stumbled outside of the elevator.

I swore under my breath when I realized we were in a floor filled with locked rooms. I was trapped.

The corridor was absolutely deserted, only a room service cart parked against a wall. Simone casually walked over to it, watching it with curiosity, as she pulled out the gun she had taken from me.

Feeling the skin in my face tight and wet because of the blood that was drying out, I grimaced at her. She was far too calm, and she didn’t seem upset at all that we were now in sacred ground. In fact, she showed me a smug smirk.

“You know the rules” I reminded her, my eyes never leaving her as she lifted the top off a silver tray from the cart.

She ignored me as she eyed the untouched food and shook her head a little. Then her eyes focused on the bottle that contained a dark liquid.

“I’m so thirsty” She muttered, taking the time to pour some of the alcohol in a glass and sniff it.

“Put the gun down” I insisted, watching how she carelessly waved it around while pretending to point at the food. “There are rules here”

Simone took a sip of the drink and smirked at me again, lowering her gun but not dropping it. It felt like she was teasing me, torturing me as much as she could.

“Glad we settled it” She grinned in amusement. “Killing your father wasn’t a big deal anyway”

The helplessness that had engulfed me faded away with her words. It was then when I remember that I still had a gun. I wouldn’t hesitate.

“Say that again, you bitch” I muttered through grit teeth, glaring daggers at her.  

She then lifted her arm, gun still in hand. Simone furrowed her brow in determination and I acted on instinct. I startled myself as I wielded my gun and pulled the trigger.

I watched in awe, the bullet hole pouring blood in her forehead.

Like it had burned me, I dropped the weapon to the ground and looked for something to hold on to. My knees felt weak as she fell limply on the ground. Her body landed with a thud. She wouldn’t get up again.

I let out a strangled scream as I realized what I had done. A commotion started out around me, since the gunshot had attracted attention.

Falling to my knees, I covered my mouth to try and conceal the loud sobs that escaped it, but to no avail. Tears tainted my vision as my eyes fixed on the motionless body of Simone.

There was no turning back now, and that peace I hoped to experience after Simone was dead was nowhere to be found. I only felt sick. I couldn’t breathe.

I had killed her. I had broken the Continental rules. I had behaved like a bloodthirsty assassin, like that very thing I refused to become. Like the thing I resented my father for being. Like the thing I feared John Wick for being.

And now I had become my own worst nightmare. I had broken my own rule.

Everything dimmed around me, the voices and sounds of alarm. Doors swinging open and footsteps. It all became faint and distant.

I felt disgusting as I knelt there, having no consolation other than bawling my eyes out and whimpering in a pathetic manner. There was no solace for me now.

“Liz!” Someone approached me, dropping to their knees and obstructing my field of vision. I hadn’t noticed my eyes were still on Simone, I was too numb to realize or look away. “Liz! What happened?”

I couldn’t respond, I couldn’t answer the question. All I could do was continue crying, wishing I hadn’t pulled the trigger. Silent tears streamed down my face as the shock lingered.

“What have you done?” The voice insisted, taking me by the shoulders.

“I-I’m sorry…” I choked out, reaching out to touch them as my foggy brain finally registered who I was talking to. “I’m so s-s-sorry…”

“It’s okay, I’m here” Cradling my head against his chest, he sheltered me in his embrace. “It’s alright now”

“No, I k-killed her” Came my strangled voice. “She was gonna shoot me and I…”

“I know” He rocked me slightly, protectively wrapping his arms around me as his hand lingered against my head, keeping it close to his chest.

“I’m sorry, John”

“I know…”

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Charmed [Episode 4]

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It had been a week since your injury at the warehouse. Thankfully, the bullet had only grazed your arm, taking away the layers of skin to reveal the fat layers underneath. The long-sleeved shirt that you wore would be forever ruined so you were forced to retire it, cutting it into strips to serve as bandages while you took shelter in your house.

There was no doubt in your mind that Jungkook had recognized your presence, but thankfully it didn’t seem like he had discovered the tracker, either mistaking it for a missed bullet or forgetting about it in the ruckus that followed. Still, it was odd.

Saying he was talented would be the understatement of the century. It had been dark and murky under the roof of the warehouse, that combined with the small opening between crates he would have to shoot through, it was a miracle you were hit at all.

The familiar beep beep of the microwave echoed through your house. Collecting the warm cup, you took a sip of revitalizing caffeine as you made your way back to your couch, eyes retracing the colored lines overlaid on a map of the city, each color a different day. Your alabaster skin suffering from the lack of sunlight. But you didn’t mind the drawn curtains and closed blinds, anything was better than ending up an unidentifiable body on the bottom of Han River.

You made your way to your nest on the new couch. Settling yourself among the blankets, you winced as the still tender flesh of your arm brushed against the leather of the fabric. It had been a stressful week of hiding - you had stayed in your apartment, relying on your bulk purchases of food to keep you sustained as you relied on your tracker to keep tabs on BigHit’s truck.

Glancing at the shuttered windows, you winced at the sight of the blond wig, half covered by the opaque fabric. It had remained there for the last week, ever since you chucked it at the window in your anger. It would have worked as the perfect disguise.

A high-pitched beep sounded from your computer, and your eyes turned to the screen just as another dot marked a location on the map - the truck had made another stop. You had programmed that tracker to mark location whenever the truck stopped for more than 3 minutes, longer than what it would take at a red light but still sensitive enough to pick up a small unloading and loading pause. It was a pain to wait before you went forward with the plan, but the mafia were smart. You didn’t know if they had approached the house or not yet. They could be waiting, or they could have used some corrupted form of psychology on you to fool you.

It was crucial that you got the location right the first time, as a failed attempt would put them even more on edge than they already were. You were sure that security would already be tighter due to your failure at going unnoticed, making the job even harder. Throwing your head back you let out a groan, one that was lost to time forever in the dusty gloom of your living room.

You let another week pass, stewing in the annoyance of being immobile and injured. Still, your impatience got the best of you and you wasted not time in rushing out the door as Eli.

He stayed mostly to roads he had never been on before, too paranoid that another underground worker would see him and give away his position. On hand, a phone with the list of all the addresses the truck visited, which was actually surprisingly short, organized from most visits to the least.

You had tried to narrow down your search using satellite imagery of the locations, but they were all clean. And yes, as cheesy as it was, there is some truth to the idea that suspicion increases when a place is too clean. Still, with no other option before you, here you were; possibly one of the greatest contract killers in the world, reduced to acting like a common thief who peeks through windows. Yes, some may argue that Eli was a common thief, but you firmly believe otherwise. What he did wasn’t thievery, it was art.

How many times had you trained to make your form disappear in a crowd, to make your fingers ghost-like in the efficiency with which they relieved pockets of valuables. You had done far too much to allow your work to be called anything less than a masterpiece.

The first house had been an epic flop in terms of anything interesting. The was simply a storefront for a pawn shop, most probably hiding another underground store but now that wasn’t your primary concern. It had taken you some time, but you had finally found it. Inconspicuous in the greatest fashion; why be isolated when you could hide in plain sight … in the penthouse of a luxury high rise!

You rolled your eyes at the extravagant clothing of the people walking through the ceiling-high, glass double doors. You could never imagine living like that every day; it would be stressful on your neck and head. All you needed was one accessory and your wardrobe was set. Without it you felt naked to the world, as if your entire identity was woven into the intricate metalwork.

The uniformed doorman sneaked another glance at your way, letting you know that it was time to do something, otherwise he was going to call security on your blonde ass. Instead of hightailing it out of there, you confidently walked to the front door and under the golden trimmed entrance, passing the doorman a slight nod. He silently glared back at you, too dependent on his meager wages to vocalize any complaint.

Passing the front desk, you smiled and nodded, playing the perfect part of a rich, but eccentric homeowner. Much like the cashier who worked at minimum wage, you were barely cast a glance. The clock that controlled time ticked away in the corner of the hall, much more interesting than any hooligan that may have infected the marble floors.

Making your way to the steel elevators, you stepped in the next available one and rode it all the way to the top. There was no one in the house, you knew that for certain; it was an entertaining sight to see the boys strut into their limo earlier, an hour or so before the doorman saw you for the first time. And since you began your surveillance, they hadn’t returned.

For how high-profile they were, the door itself was a very basic keypad lock, one that was clean enough to make the smudging more visible to the naked eye. In the corner of your eye, you saw the security camera trained on your face, or rather, Eli’s. He was a cheeky bastard and couldn’t help himself from waving at the person on the other side, who sat wide-eyed.

[KSJ]

It was a habit that had developed among us to randomly check the surveillance of our home while we were out. It wasn’t as vigilant as it sounds however with the time intervals ranging from 30 minutes to almost 2 hours but it was better than nothing.

I had reached a dead end with that ramen shop, though I did expect that. No thief was stupid enough to visit the same place twice, expecially when you had been tagged there. Still, no one had any rumors about his whereabouts despite antics being at an all-time high.

So imagine my surprise and anger at finding waving at me through the screen of my phone as he entered my house. His smile was wide enough to show off his perfect teeth and his fashion was to the nines with a smart hat over his blonde head and a leather jacket and dark jeans; he looked in his element.

Through gritted teeth, I ordered the driver to turn around. A business deal was small compared with bringing in Eli to the boss. Rarely did I ever break the calm and composed position of power like my father taught me, but even he had his breaking points and this was mine.

Giggling at your actions, you smoothly unlocked the front door with an electronic masterkey. It was the greatest thing you ever created and ran an algorithm to find all possible number combinations. It then used a phantom copy of the keypad server to run the possibilities, basically giving you an unlimited amount of trials.

You walked into the room like you owned the place, which for the next few moments until the boys got back, it felt like you did. Everything in you was working overtime to keep you from messing something up; the whited sepulchre annoying you to your very limits. It was very surgical in its decoration, pale and empty. It was a home, but it didn’t feel lived in.

Is this what happens when you probably have maids that come every day? Sadly, you would never know.

Making your way past the entrance hall - seriously what was with that? a hall just to greet people? - you encroached upon their living room; a bleak continuation of the uneasy entrance hall. There were multiple cameras, and you were pretty sure of bugs too, but what did you care about? You wanted them to know that you were here. You wanted them to understand just what Eli was capable of, even if it was putting a gun to their head and pulling the trigger.

The familiar ding of the elevator made its way through the opened crack of the front door. They were here.

The boys entered through the front door, six keeping an eye out for the intruder while Jin tried to find his location through their security cameras.

They were beyond furious, mostly because they felt the pain of having underestimated you.

“Hello boys.”

They would never make the same mistake again.

Immediately, you faced down the barrel of 6 guns, all but certain they would pump you full of iron without second thought. Yet in the face of death, you didn’t waver. They weren’t going to kill you after all, and everyone in that room knew that.

You only smiled, continuing to speak to maintain the dominance you held of the situation.

“Put your guns down. You can’t kill me anyways.”

Jimin scowled. Since the moment Jin had revealed to the group about Eli’s presence in their home, he had seen red creep around the edges. He was the frontman when it came to the group’s security, so even though he was happy the motion sensors inlaid into the cameras worked in informing them of the intruder, he was mad that the subversive technology in the lock had not prevented the intruder from getting in.

“Yeah? What’s stopping me?” Just to prove his point, Jimin took a threatening step forward, steadying the aim in the center of Eli’s forehead. “What’s keeping me from putting a bullet between those pretty blue eyes of yours?”

“Well, your boss for one.” Eli only smiled after that, letting the implications form themselves. it didn’t matter what justification he offered; the main goal was for the boys to come to conclusion themselves. That way, they would believe it more. “Or perhaps, it’s my pretty blue eyes? Take your pick Jimin.” The said man glared at your form.

Eli made his way to the antique bar setting on the far side of the living room, blatantly appreciating the arrangement of hard liquor in glass decanters. The boys had lowered their guns, coming to their own responses as to why Eli couldn’t die.

“Now, how about we all have a drink, and I explain why I am here, and you explain what it is that your boss wants me to help you steal.” They were trained men, so there was no blatant change in expression as you revealed the extent to which you understood their motives, but you could see some clenched jaws, no doubt unhappy with the power balance.

Currently, it was tilted in your favor, so you took the initiative to pour everyone drinks, gin and tonics all around. You then took your previous seat, leaning back with comfortable ease. The other boys also took places around the living room. They may not be completely estranged from the idea of shooting you, but at least the guns were no longer facing you.

Namjoon took a long sip of the drink, letting the familiar taste burn his throat on the way down. He hated Eli at that moment; the sense of passiveness the man gave off. As if he didn’t care about anything, least of all whether one of his boys put a bullet through his skull.

“Now, don’t be so morose about it all! It was all in good fun. Just a little something to show that I am not one to be underestimated, no matter how laissez-faire I seemed.” Eli spoke these words over the rim of his glass, the material distorting the smile that shines around white teeth. It wasn’t a tender kind smile that you show a lover, it was a deranged kind of smile, one that Namjoon rarely saw from anyone. And it sent chills slithering up and down his spine. He knew that working with this man would not be ordinary. And Eli knew that from the way it shined through his pretty blue eyes, locked solely on him at that moment. And for the second time in his life, he did not feel in control.

“Now, since I’ve shown you my cards. I think it is only proper that you show me yours.” The silence was punctuated with the clink of the tumbler on the center table. None of the boys met your eyes, half still focused on their guns. The other half just thought….and thought some more. How to answer a man who probably knows everything?

“We doubt there is anything that we could tell you that you wouldn’t already know.” Yoongi kept his voice level, as he always did. There was nothing special he saw in the little pickpocket, just another immature personality trying to be a man. Everyone was bound to mess up as some point, he just had to be the observant one and wait for it.

“You’d be surprised Yoongi,” Eli mused, ignoring the reaction Bangtan had to the obvious lack of respect the boy had. “There is always something to learn about everything. When you think you know it all, that is when you recognize that you were playing the fool.” You chuckled, leaving the rest of that phrase up to them for interpretation, already seeing the wheels in Namjoon’s head turning.

“Let me ask again. Why are you chasing me through the streets of Seoul?” Eli wasn’t expecting a no for an answer. You did not want to reveal that you only had basic knowledge of what they wanted, and even those hypotheses were not proven fact. But you had enough to play a small con for information.

“Here. I’ll even help you out. Your boss wants me to help you steal something because he thinks you’re not good enough, which is where I-.”

“We are good enough!” The outburst was instinct, coming from the one member that could never take being second to anyone, not even to a metaphor.

“Jungkook.” It was quick and sharp; an order without even needing to say the words.

“Oh? So, I was right. Thank you for the information, Jungkook.”

The dark-haired man leapt to his feet, pulled his pistol out of the holster and let go a single bullet. But then again, you weren’t just any old thief. With the same speed and flow, you pushed back on the chair as you saw, tipping backwards you dropped the glass, the loud crash more than enough to completely obscure a silenced shot. When the back of the chair made contact with the floor, you wasted no time  rolling behind the kitchen counter, where you were safe from any more stray bullets that managed to head your way.

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad new Jungkook but you missed this time.” You heard a growl, but thankfully no heavy footsteps making their way to your hiding spot. Still, he was a killer. Walking silently was no issue for him. As such, you made your way to the other side, facing the counter and behind it, anyone who would be coming for you from the direction of the living room.

Small murmurs made their way to your ears, far too quiet to make out the placating reassurances that the boys were delivering. You didn’t try and stop them, the less angry Jungkook was, the less he was prone to try and kill you, again.

“I suggest you come back out Eli. So we can show you to your room.” You could tell from his voice that Namjoon was just tired with the whole situation. “After all, you are working with us. It would be apt that you stay with us for the time being.”

Peeking out from behind the counter, you raised a single eyebrow at the assembled group of men. 

“When did I ever agree to work with you? As far as I’m concerned you haven’t even told me what you wanted my help with.”

“You have no choice Mr.– '' Namjoon cut off, fully intending for you to fill in the blank but you refused. Something about watching him squirm in the awkward silence made you happy, figurately at least.

“I have no choice?” you simpered. “Now that’s just plain wrong.” You came out from behind the counter, fully assured by the strong hold that Jin, Hoseok, and Jimin had on Jungkook. It looked like he wasn’t about to shoot you anytime soon. 

“I make my own choices Namjoon. No group of pretty boys is going to stop me.” 

And that is the story of how you no —  how Eli  — came to live with the Bangtan Boys.

The room they escorted you to contained the very furniture that you had seen them select a couple weeks ago. Sharp lines, metallics, and sterile. Everything about your job summed up into one disgustingly perfect room.

The blinds were open to catch the last rays of sunset that glinted off the high-rises around you. With a slight scowl, you turned your head as one stray reflection made its way into your eye. “Nice place. Bit too much light for my eyes though,” you said as you turned to face them. Only five of the men from before had followed you. It seemed that Jungkook had decided to leave rather than kill you, and Jin had joined him to make sure he didn’t.

You waited for a response. A minute passed. Then another. And now even you were starting to feel the weight of the tension in the room. Here they really had you cornered. The five of them corralling you into a room with a singular window more than 50 feet above cold pavement.

Have you escaped from this kind of situation before? Yes but that was only possible due to a conveniently placed window-washer’s station and a metal straw; neither of which you had available at the moment.      

“Good night Eli.” Namjoon’s voice betrayed the loosening reins he had on the other boys. Jimin, who had a soft spot for Jungkook, seemed to have no problem in gripping the beretta he had in a shoulder holster in warning.

Not that you ever listened to what pretty boys ever told you.

The next morning you woke up at your usual time, waved at the camera disguised on the black surface of the flower vase and began your morning routine. Thankfully over the years you had perfected the art of wigs and the blonde mane had stayed on through the night. Grabbing your clothes and more hair products you made your way to the bathroom. Changing into something more comfortable, you put on your running shoes and made your way to the front door.

Stretching out your back, you felt it pop and released a sigh before you crashed into someone. Taking a few steps back, you looked up into the face of the one and only Jung Hoseok. It was odd to see the man out of his suit and into what looked like workout gear.

It would be illegal for them to not be working out looking the way they did, but seeing it physically was something completely different. Not many were crazy enough to have a 6 am morning workout routine.

“Seems you’ll be joining us of your own accord.” Hearing the familiar drawl, you turn to see the rest of the boys in various states of putting their shoes on in the living room. So all of them did this every morning. Interesting.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but you can’t watch me run today. I have my own routes and my own errands, so I’ll see you back for breakfast.” As you were finishing your sentence you darted for the entrance, so quick that Hoseok could only graze your arm with his fingertips.

Behind you, you heard the sound of footsteps as one of the boys, most likely Hoseok, gave chase to you. You pumped your eyes faster as you darted in the direction of the stairs. The elevators were a sure way to get caught if there was not one available immediately, but at least on the stairs you could use your skills to descend faster.  Slamming open the door to the stairwell, you leaped over the banister without second thought and angled your body towards the railing on the opposite sides a floor down. It wasn’t much of a head start, but with Hoseok you thought you could manage.

Using your palms, you latched onto the cold metal and pulled yourself over it. Not wasting a moment in continuing your journey down the stairs. Behind you, the slap of hands on metal scared you more than you would ever admit. The sound meant that whoever was giving you chase was not Hoseok. It meant that your pursuer would not look lightly upon you if they caught you.

Willing your motivation into your limbs, you pushed forward, taking the steps two at a time and trying to find another opening for you to jump down another floor. It wasn’t that there weren’t opportunities; no there were plenty of those. The issue came with commitment.

With a drop of over 50 feet below you, there was no room for error. You had to be sure you were making the jump long before you actually shifted the weight. From what you had guessed, the person seemed to have some strength and training, making the possibility for error even less. A trained person would see the shift in weight and the element of surprise was the most important thing you could have.

“I could do this all day Eli.” The dark voice from behind you almost made you jump in fear. It was Jungkook and he sounded like he would enjoy nothing more than to just exact all the anger he had towards you in a single moment. A lot could be done to a person without killing, and nothing that BigHit had said prohibited you from being a little banged up by the time you reached their front door.

Seeing an upcoming opening, you counted down the seconds until you jumped. About a meter away from the gap, you leaped for the gap. From behind you, you heard another growl as Jungkook came after you. At the last minute, you reached out your hand and grabbed the pole and used the centrifugal force to pull yourself back onto the stairs. Jungkook was so focused on the jump as he didn’t have the planning that you did, that you were able to catch your breath as he really dropped himself down two floors.

The look on his face was the most amusing; that wide eyes expression that really betrayed more anger at himself or not seeing this coming rather than at you for getting away.

Between heaved breaths, you couldn’t help but rub it in a bit more. “Eli 2 and Jungkook 0,” you smirked out. “Don’t look now but you’re in second Jeon.” And with that you knew the moment was over, and so did he. A trained fighter’s first lesson wasn’t on fighting at all; it was about holding back.

[JJK]

Looking at the messy blonde head a couple of floors above me, I wanted nothing more than to wring his neck. His lips were parted in mirth at my state of loss and the audacity of him to further rub salt into the wound as he relaxed on his throne above me.

Nothing was stopping me from running back up the flights and going after your snark attitude with his fists, but that was beneath him. That would be revenge and revenge was not looked upon kindly. Revenge is mindless while fighting is mindful.

Catching my own breath, because Eli was faster than he seemed, I glared in his direction and slowly began my trek back up the stairs to rejoin the boys. He would get away, this time. From across the round staircase Eli kept his eyes on me as he circled down and I circled up, until we met face too face on the 19th floor landing.

He gave me a small nod, lips slightly parted as he continued to restock his oxygen supply as he continued past me. I didn’t try to contest my loss.

I regret my training.

It wasn’t a hard task keeping your identity secret. You had already prepared for this eventuality and had stocked both you backpack and the back room of the noodle shop with extra supplies. This way, you could keep the location of your apartment a secret, just in case you needed to catch a break for any reason. Who knows when you would need a hideaway from BigHit.

In the meantime, you kept to places the boys knew about, like the noodle shop. So the ones that followed you had nothing to report back to Namjoon who had grew more frustrated as time passed, with no new information about you. In the house, you kept to yourself, only speaking about the mission.

“Why don’t you come join me! Taehyung! Jimin! Over here!” Your voice reverberated around the noodle shop, giving you a sense of deja vu as the rest of the patron turned to the entryway. Sending a quick wink at the matron of the store, she shook her head and nodded in response as she asked for another two bowls of noodles.

Recently, you had become close to her, creating some semblance of friendship between the two of you, built around her new-found popularity and you character. She would never tell you this, but you became one of her heart’s adopted children. In you she saw someone who was forced to grow up too fast, for what reason she understood that she would never know, but it was there.

“You’re playing with fire here child.” She leaned in as if she was taking your order.

In response, you lifted the menu, momentarily covering both your faces with the red book. “Well good thing I’ve stocked up on repellent, Umma.”

Pulling the menu back down, you motioned them over, giving them no chance to turn tail and run. They would now have to suffer through lunch with your infuriating face with those big wide eyes.

“It’s not good to tail someone on an empty stomach, so you should eat up. After this, I’ve got to take you on a wild goose chase around the park.”

[rycewrites]

lookism rant #1

so... it’s spring break. and i’ve spent the entire break doing what any smart ap student would do: ignoring my five looming ap tests and draining my phone battery by looking at webtoons and instagram. since most of my favorite webtoons are on hiatus, i have resolved to rereading my favorites, and one that i’ve reread the most so far is lookism. as spring break comes to a finish in two days, i decided to get my life back on track and instead of simply rereading the comic, i will rant about my most and least favorite characters starting with the fandom’s all-time favorite character (yes, if you check the wiki for lookism there is a poll and it is fact that he is the majority’s favorite), jay hong/hong jae yeol. (also, note that these are my opinions so if you disagree with them don’t be offended but i would be happy to hear other people’s opinions on the webtoon! please comment who would be on your list because i need to talk to more people who read lookism!)

top favorite characters~

1. jay hong/hong jae yeol:

let’s just list off reasons why everyone loves him: he is well-dressed (even plans out other people’s outfits), generous (gives daniel literally everything he wants), selfless (he fricking took in enu’s pups even though he is scared of dogs), RICH (main reason for kouji’s admiration), strong (manz uses his systema well), and CAN RIDE A MOTORCYCLE (yes, i love a man who can ride a bike). he may not be the most dynamic character, but his static puppy status makes it impossible for me to put him lower on this list. we honestly don’t know that much about his backstory and i am super curious about why his family relationships are so strained (except with his sister, joy). for now, he remains a mystery, but like an attractive mystery. overall, me -> ( ･_･)♡

2. zach lee/lee jin sung:

honestly hated this boi in the beginning because he was a big bully to daniel, but  he has been through some SERIOUS character development. mira was a big part in this but i feel like overall his morals have changed so much even when mira isn’t around. he does still fight often, but now it’s not meaningless violence as he uses his boxing skills to defend his friends (ex: defending johan during the god dogs arc).

i also hated his eyebrows and hair in the beginning of the comic but like that’s personal preference. however, in the last few episodes, his hair looks SO GOOD (reference image above).

he is second on my list of favorite characters because i feel that his development throughout the story has been the most dynamic. he not only changed mentally as he overlooks lookism more (ex: he is not only friends with big daniel but also little daniel) but also physically as he doesn’t simply depend on his inherent talent for boxing but actually goes back and trains again in order to get better (to defend mira >.<)

in the future, i hope to see more development with his relationship with mira and his friends because i hold a lot of high hopes for this boi! ♥‿♥

3. vasco/lee eun tae/tabasco:

BIG CUTIE ENERGY ♥╣[-_-]╠♥! first off, he may not have as much long-term development over the course of the story like zach, but we do see a lot of his development with his own arc and bullying story. he was always a pure boi and his inherent innocence creates a discrepancy with his appearance which makes him more endearing in my opinion. the idea of lookism is very apparent in his character because most people look at him and see him as a gangster or someone very intimidating, but in reality his personality and mindset are very innocent (showing another way that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover). i honestly LOVED the scene in the god dogs arc in which he defended zach and daniel joins in because that friendship is GOLDEN. i love how he always strives to be stronger and more powerful to defeat the evil in the world because it shows that he truly cares about the weaker people and those impacted by lookism. in my opinion, i think that vasco and zach will end up being the most powerful in the story (but that’s my opinion)

4. mira kim/kim mi jin:

pure! cute! sweet! moral! (✿ ♥‿♥)! mira is just an all-around great gal that makes it impossible for me to find flaws with. although she isn’t super major in terms of daniel’s story, she does impact zach significantly and makes him a better person. like she is the sole reason that zach has become a character that i truly admire and like. (although she did think that daniel was the r-word when he tried hitting on her in the beginning of the story. but throughout the story we see that she isn’t really a person to judge people on looks and stuff as we see that she gives jasmine the benefit of the doubt even after the vasco fiasco)

5. yena/eli jang’s (jang hyun’s) daughter:

honestly too cute for words. like the episodes where zach and mira find her are my favorites so i just wanted to include her in my favorite character list. also, she seems to be a character that really impacts other characters (zach and eli really changed for her ಥ_ಥ)

least favorite characters~

park ji ho:

always doing dumb things and making it harder for the people around him. he tries too hard to be a part of the popular group and as zach said, he doesn’t really think of them as friends because he just thinks about what the benefits are for hanging out with daniel and co. i think we all went from being tolerant of jiho in the beginning and then hating him at the end. i especially hated how he kept blaming other people and yet not accepting when people were being friendly. especially during the fake bank account arc, he just brushed off daniel when he asked jiho if he wanted to go to the convenience store then jiho goes running back to daniel and his friends when he realizes his mistake. overall, -123912830/10.

2. james gong:

don’t even know where to start with this punk. very violent for very little reason! i know i stated before that i hate jiho but i still felt kinda bad for him when he realized that james had sold the bank account he made for him. just overall a very intimidating character that hurt zach (ﾉಥ益ಥ）ﾉ ┻━┻

3. jasmine huh:

needs to get her shit(ake) together. first off, she almost got vasco expelled from the school because of her lies. like big! red! flag! it seems that she really doesn’t care about other people (except james) and is willing to put so many other people at risk to save her own behind. also, i hate how she uses other people. like how she uses mira to make money when mira didn’t do anything wrong ヾ(ﾟдﾟ)ﾉ. i hope she one day realizes that her lies are gonna hurt so many other people and then herself.

4. heemin kim/zeus/creepy dude from the boot camp arc:

sexual assault is a big no in this household. i hate how he thinks that being handsome can defend him of his crimes! also, he broke zach’s arms which made me FLIP OUT. LIKE HOW DO YOU DARE TO HARM MY BOXER BOI. he also attacked mira, an actual angel ლ(ﾟдﾟლ). words can’t describe how much i hate this man but numbers can -> 0/10

5. logan lee/lee tae sung:

big bully energy. he needs to lay his hands off of everyone (especially zoe!). blackmail? big no go in this household. he also dumped his plate of food on mira? BIG NO GO! he needs to get his life together and realize that people don’t hate him because he’s “ugly,” it’s because he has THE WORST PERSONALITY!

6. strong contenders for least favorite: stalker girl, animal cruelty cat mom/hoarder, zoe’s stalker

characters that i need more information about to form stronger opinions about~

vin jin/jin ho bin:

dislike him because he abused enu but also want to know more about him. big bully energy but i feel like he has a deep backstory behind him so i want to know more. why did he quite judo? why does he wear sunglasses? hope he gets over his superiority complex and changes because i feel like he has a lot of potential.

2. eli jang/jang hyun:

so far, very cute and strong is all i have to say about him. also, he is a good dad like that scene where he put out that god dog’s cigarette? MAJOR PROPS TO YOU ELI. i’m very curious about his backstory as well because it seems that he was a contender for gun’s successor but he changed drastically to take care of yena. i also just love a man with good hair sooo…

3. jong gun + joon goo:

i want to know more about these two! like what’s their backstory? why did gun create the 4 big crews? why was goo sent to the juvenile detention center before? (look at vasco’s bullying arc for reference) why did gun leave goo alone with the money collection? overall very mysterious and i want to learn more.

random characters that just deserve appreciation~

crystal choi/choi soo jung:

we stan a strong female character. however, i don’t like how she is immediately prejudiced against handsome men in the beginning of her appearance. i think over time she’ll realize that her prejudice isn’t right and her experience as someone who has to deal with lookism doesn’t justify her immediate judgements. however, we need more female fighters in this story so she is a big yes.

2. duke pyeon:

WE STAN A MAN WHO FOLLOWS HIS DREAMS DESPITE BEING BULLIED AND JUDGED. yes, we stan.

3. daniel park/park hyung suk:

honestly, he’s a great character and all, but i don’t know if he could ever reach favorite character status. i just have a mindset that makes me unable to pick the protagonist as a favorite character because i feel like they are sometimes created specifically to just bring the story together. don’t get me wrong, he’s a great person, defends his friends, and doesn’t fight for no reason, but i feel like there isn’t anything super special about his personality (other than the fact that he has two bodies but like so does crystal). he also looks like kim seokjin in his new body which is a big plus.

4. inu/enu + inu/enu’s pups:

i love dogs

5. mary kim/idk her korean name someone help me:

strong female character? i think yes. honestly such a fav. she doesn’t take sh*t from vin jin and i honestly want to know more about her character and background. *spoiler alert* i read ahead in the korean version and saw that she can beat people up too so like… she’s a bada**.

6. kouji:

as a person interested in computer science, I STAN. i also love a man with good hair. his cocky personality is sometimes off-putting but honestly his confidence is endearing at times. also we both love money!

7. jace park/park bum jae:

during vasco’s bullying story, i was so sad when he left vasco, but i love how he realized that he should’ve been a better friend and has stuck with vasco after all of this time. also love how he listens to vasco and tries to make him happy even when he knows that vasco does some silly things (like planting durian seeds in korea)

8. zoe park/park ha neul:

i love her development! she still fights with herself over whether she should like big daniel or small daniel, which displays her internal conflict with lookism. over time she has stopped judging people solely on their appearance and she is even able to distinguish between daniel and his cousin! (in my opinion, if daniel doesn’t end up with jay he better end up with zoe instead)

9. daniel’s (hyung suk’s) mother:

ICON! WE NEED TO APPRECIATE OUR PARENTS MORE! I AM A BIG STAN! SHE WORKS HARD FOR DANIEL AND IT BREAKS MY HEART WHEN DANIEL DOESN’T REALIZE!

10. song johan:

deserved better. he was just trying to help his mom which makes him so pure! but i feel like he should realize that he has friends (zach and mira) that could help him get through his problems! overall, want to see more of him and i hope he develops even more.

[makistar2018]

What Are Masters and Why Do Taylor Swift & Other Artists Keep Fighting for Them?

July 3, 2019 by Chris Eggertsen

An explainer and brief timeline of other marquee stars — from Prince to Frank Ocean and beyond — who have struggled to gain control.

As this week’s fracas between Taylor Swift and Big Machine label head Scott Borchetta has shown, ownership of an artist’s master recordings is a sensitive issue -- particularly with a catalog is as valuable as Swift’s. But the country-turned-pop superstar is far from the first musician to battle with her label over master rights.

A master is the original sound recording of a piece of music -- as opposed to the composition itself -- and whatever entity or person owns those rights exercises broad power over how that recording is used. Often in tandem with composition rights holder (the songwriters or a publisher who has purchased the copyright from them), the master rights holder has the power to grant third-party licenses for that recording -- from streaming and vinyl records to its use in film, TV, commercials and public performances. Proceeds from those licenses are then split between the owner of the master (who pays out a previously agreed-upon percentage of that revenue to the artist) and the composition's copyright holders.

There are a couple of reasons, then, why an artist would be keen to own their masters, which are almost always controlled by artist's label (in Swift’s case, Big Machine) in exchange for promotion and financial support during the recording process. Not only does that ownership allow the owner to collect on royalties for sales and uses of the master sound recording, but they exercise full control over how and where it is used. As such, labels haven't been known to give those rights up easily.

Just ask Swift. After declining to sign a new deal with Big Machine that she claims would have awarded her rights back to her masters one album at a time -- earning one old album for every new one she released -- the singer said Borchetta failed to notify her about the label's pending sale to Ithaca Holdings, whose majority stakeholders include A-list manager and so-called Swift "bully" Scooter Braun. Had she been informed of the sale ahead of time, Swift indicates she may have been compelled to make a counter-bid for her masters, which make up a significant portion of Big Machine’s total worth. (Borchetta has disputed various elements of Swift's claims here, including the proposed contract terms and when she found out about the Ithaca deal.)  

The history of major artists attempting to regain control of their masters is checkered and success often comes with a hefty price tag. Here are some of the more recent incidents where stars have made a play for those rights, both publicly and behind closed doors.

1993: Prince

Before Swift, Prince was the artist most known for battling with a record label over control of his master recordings. In his case, the label was Warner Bros. Records, which released the iconic artist's first 18 albums, including such monster hits as Purple Rain and 1999. With his frustration over a perceived lack of artistic control mounting, in 1993 The Purple One went public with his campaign by changing his name to an unpronounceable symbol (also known as the "Love Symbol") in hopes that the change would make the terms of his contract unenforceable. Once it became clear that his ploy wouldn’t work, the singer-songwriter began appearing in public with the word “slave” written on his cheek.

Upon exiting his deal with Warner Bros., Prince released his next album -- the aptly-titled Emancipation -- on EMI and his own NPG Records. In subsequent years he would go on to release music on a variety of different labels, from Arista to Columbia to Universal, and he even offered his 1997 Crystal Ball box set directly to fans via phone and internet preorders. After re-signing with Warner in 2014 to release new music, as well as a 30th anniversary edition of Purple Rain, he finally regained the rights to his master recordings released under the label after a more than two-decade standoff.

1996: Janet Jackson

Janet Jackson’s blockbuster deals with Virgin Records in the 1990s were arguably the shrewdest of that decade in music. The multi-platinum star made headlines with her 1991 contract that was worth a reported $40 million, but then doubled down with a subsequent 1996 deal reportedly valued at $80 million. That latter deal was not just worth twice as much in advances, but also awarded her ownership of her masters seven years after the end of the contract, which was fulfilled following the release of her 2006 album, 20 Y.O. Even for an artist of Jackson’s stature, this counted as an exceptionally rare coup.

2001: Courtney Love

Courtney Love’s battle with Universal Music Group erupted in 2000, when the label sued the rocker for refusing to deliver on five albums they'd contracted with her band Hole. The following year, Love counter-sued, claiming that the long-term record contract she had originally signed violated the California statute that says entertainers cannot be tied to any one company for longer than seven years.

That fight broadened when Love filed a second lawsuit against UMG -- as well as Dave Grohl and Krist Novoselic, her late husband Kurt Cobain’s surviving Nirvana bandmates -- in October 2001 for control of Nirvana’s master recordings. In addition to accusing UMG of cheating the band out of over $3 million in royalties, she claimed that its label Geffen Records was not the same one it had signed with in 1991 due to Geffen’s subsequent acquisition by Vivendi Universal. Love ultimately settled with UMG in 2002 without regaining the Nirvana master rights, though she has most recently sued the label again as part of a putative class-action suit over the Universal Studios backlot fire that allegedly destroyed the very master recordings she had once fought so hard to control.

2004: Jay-Z

Jay-Z’s ownership of his masters was won not through any court battle but rather as a condition of his signing a new contract with his label Def Jam Recordings -- this time as president and CEO of the company. Even though he left that post in 2007 and the next year launched Roc Nation as a joint-venture with Live Nation, under the terms of his employement agreement with Def Jam his masters reverted back to his control in 2014. The next year, he launched TIDAL, as the exclusive online platform to stream his music. 

2012: Metallica

Metallica leveraged their status as heavy metal gods with millions of albums sold for Warner Music Group subsidiary Elektra Records to sign a joint venture with WMG in 1994 that returned rights to all their master recordings in November 2012. Upon announcing that those rights had officially reverted back, the band unveiled their own label Blackened Recordings, which now handles all of Metallica’s releases via distribution agreements with WMG's Rhino in North America and UMG internationally.

2014: U2

In a 2014 interview with Billboard, U2’s former manager Paul McGuinness revealed that the rock icons had acquired 100% of the masters to all their work in a deal financed by Live Nation, with whom the band signed a 12-year deal in 2008.

2016: Rihanna

Following the creation of her own Westbury Road Entertainment imprint under the Roc Nation banner in 2015, Rihanna managed to acquire the masters of all her previous albums from her former label Def Jam. Though no price tag was reported, given the value of the Barbadian singer’s catalog the cost was no doubt formidable.

2016: Frank Ocean

In his own deal with Def Jam to puchase his masters (which also included him buying out the remainder of his contract), Ocean also won the right to self-release his platinum-selling 2016 album Blonde. In a subsequent interview with The New York Times, he described his relationship with his former label as a "seven-year chess game."

2019: David Johansen, John Waite, Southside Johnny, Paul Collins and Joe Ely

In February of this year, two class-action suits were filed against UMG and Sony Music by a number of prominent musicians, including New York Dolls’ David Johansen and former Bad English frontman John Waite, for “routinely and systematically” failing to honor notices of termination aimed at regaining rights to their masters under section 203 of the Copyright Act of 1976. Under that section, artists are given the opportunity to terminate a label’s ownership of sound recordings beginning 35 years after their release.

In addition to their own claims, the plaintiffs -- which also include New Jersey blues-rocker Southside Johnny, former Nerves drummer Paul Collins and Joe Ely -- are also seeking declaratory relief that sound recordings can’t ever be considered “works made for hire,” which under the law would give labels rights to an artist's masters in perpetuity. As the plantiffs allege, that is exactly the argument UMG and Sony have made in refusing to honor their requests.

Billboard