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battybatzgirl · 4 years ago

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Hey Mr. Sandman, You Missed a Spot

AO3

Summary:

It's not that Hunter doesn't ever sleep, Eda's come to realize. It was that he falls asleep sporadically, most of the time in really weird places.

Or: 5 times Eda catches Hunter taking a nap

Part 1 of the Finders Keepers Series

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Here’s the thing about Eda: she loves naps. Eda likes to be cozy, so usually, that equated to curling up under a blanket, lazing around, and falling asleep. The Owl Beast shared that sentiment, the creature that lived within her constantly wanting to nest. Those animalistic instincts were weird, but when you lived in a house with a demon who also liked to bury himself under a pile of stuffed animals, you kind of got used to it.

Here’s the thing about Hunter: he doesn’t sleep.

The kid has been living with them for only about two weeks, officially replacing Eda as Public Enemy Numero Uno in the eyes of the Emperor. When he’d showed up on Hooty’s doorstep, all bloody and barely conscious, Eda thought it was some kind of cosmic trick. The Powers That Be had to be pulling her leg because this was the second time the leader of the Emperor’s Coven had shown up to the Owl House with nowhere else to go.

Luz had been ecstatic to welcome him in, apparently excited to finally fulfill her dreams of becoming a middle child in their weird little found family. King was less thrilled, but eventually warmed up to the idea of Hunter staying with them as long as he taught King his secrets on how to command an army.

Hunter himself even seemed unnerved at the thought of living with them. He tried to leave a few times when he was still wounded, but his little bird palisman (Rascal, she’s heard him say) effectively herded him back into the house by continuously dive-bombing him and nipping at his ears. And after Belos put out a wanted poster for the kid, making him the Isles’ number one most wanted traitor, leaving wasn’t really an option. Not if he wanted to stay alive.

So eventually, Hunter begrudgingly accepted that yeah, he lived in the Owl House now.

And alright, Eda isn’t heartless. The kid was lost, wounded, and an enemy of the Emperor. She can work with that.

Getting to know him has been a challenge, though. Hunter has a lot of weird quirks. He holds himself so seriously that Eda has a hard time remembering that he’s a teenager and not a fully grown middle-aged man. He hardly ever smiles. He’s jumpy, practically jolting out of his skin every time you walk into the same room. He’s clearly Going Through Some Shit, as Eda so eloquently calls it, remembering how Lily went through the same thing when she slowly broke free of Belos’s freaky subjugation.

But still. The kid doesn’t sleep.

Eda first notices it around day four of his residence. She’s up early to go to the market, stepping into the living room and nearly transforming into her Harpy Form out of pure shock when she sees a figure messing with her bookshelf in the back of the room. Wide maroon eyes lock on hers from across the room and she feels the feathers that sprung to her skin recede.

“Titan, kid,” she breaths, “You nearly killed me. What are you doing up? It’s Saturday, you should be sleeping in.”

“Um…I did sleep in,” Hunter responds, as if it’s obvious.

Eda feels a frown tug at her lips, “The sun isn’t even up yet.”

The kid just shrugs a little lamely, and Eda feels a twinge of concern in her chest. (And ugh, feeling concerned for a guy who dangled you over the Boiling Sea is certainly weird.) If this was sleeping in for him, he couldn’t have rested more than five hours.

She steps closer, taking a second look at what he’s doing. Half the books are spread out on the floor, the other half stacked neatly back on the shelves in some kind of order.

He notices her looking, “I, uh, took the liberty of reorganizing your bookshelf. Or organizing it, since it didn’t really seem to have a system.” The kid ducks his head, the tips of his ears flushing pink. “I- I can put it back the way it was if you want, or organize them in a different way.”

That’s another thing about Hunter: he always has to be doing something. Being useful. Without direction, he crumples. It was always, What do you want me to do now, Miss Clawthorne this and I completed this task, Miss Clawthorne, what’s next that. His brain operated on a transactional level—I do this thing for you, you do this thing for me. And since Eda was housing him, he felt like he had to constantly be doing things for her. Constantly proving himself worthy to be here, repaying her. Hunter couldn’t seem to wrap his head around that she didn’t want him to do anything except stay comfortable.

Eda has thought up a hundred different little tasks for him to do in just his first four days. She’s running out of odd jobs to give him, and if she has to keep telling him what to do she’s going to start pulling out her hair.

“You’re fine, kid,” she says. “Keep doin’ what you’re doin’ if it makes ya happy. But you shouldn’t be up this early. You should at least take a nap later.”

Hunter tilts his head. “But that wouldn’t be accomplishing anything.”

“You don’t hafta be working all the time,” Eda stresses. “It’s okay to sit around and just exist once and a while. Actually, I think that should be your priority. Take a nap, relax, go cloud watching, take a walk—any or all of the above.”

“That sounds like doing nothing.”

“That’s because it is doing nothing.”

His face hardens, taking on that soldier-like seriousness that encompasses his entire demeanor. “Being lazy can’t be a priority.”

“Don’t think of it like that, then,” Eda almost snaps, wishing for a nice hot mug of apple blood. It was too damn early to deal with the repercussions of Belos’s all-work-no-play mindset. “Think of it as acting your age. Did you ever get to take naps as a kid in the Emperor’s Coven? Is relaxing just a foreign concept to you?”

He doesn’t answer, staring at her with those bagged eyes and guarded expression, and Eda throws up her hands in defeat.

She leaves then, her patience running too thin to continue arguing with him. She doubts he’ll actually go back to sleep. He probably goes back to doing whatever he was doing with that bookshelf. Eda makes a mental note to tell King to knock all the books off, just so Hunter can reorganize it later. Just for something for him to keep him occupied.

Eda doesn’t even notice the first time it happens. It was one of Luz’s friends, Gus, who pointed it out.

The kids were gathered at her home after school, spread out on the floor of the living room along with various pillows and blankets. Luz found some card game she knew buried somewhere in the piles of human trash Eda has laying around, and the girl has been spending the better part of an hour trying to explain how it works.

“So the Wild Card doesn’t make you turn into a wild animal?” Willow questions, holding up a black card with looks like a colorful pie chart on it.

“Nope!” Luz says cheerfully. “It just becomes any color you want it to be to go with the rest of your hand.”

“But the card doesn’t actually change color?” Amity asks.

“No, it only represents the color,” Luz clarifies, and Eda has to admit, her girl has a ton of patience. She’s been quietly watching from her place on the couch, half-listening to their conversation, half-reading the Isles’ latest edition of You Gossipy Witch, a tabloid where a writer is speculating about her true form. Apparently, some people think she was raised by feral, wild owls on some far away barrier island, and has come to reside in Bonesborough just because she ran out of mutant rats to eat.

Weird.

But entertaining!

Gus holds up one of his cards, “So are blank cards bad, or—"

King jumps over his shoulder, landing on the deck of cards in the middle of their little circle and making them fly everywhere. “I have taken dominion over ALL YOUR CARDS. All of you must grovel for a taste of my wealth!”

“Actually, the point of the game is to get rid of all your cards,” Luz reminds him gently. “That way, when you get down to one card, you shout Uno! And you win! If no one else makes you draw anymore, that is.”

King deflates a little, apparently put off by the idea of less is more. “Oh.” Luz smiles and pats him on the head, and he brightens up. “Okay, let’s play, because I wanna make all of you draw as many cards as possible! You'll drown in your cards! Choke on them, even!”

As they start gathering up the cards that King threw everywhere, Gus lets out a little gasp. “You guys—is Hunter asleep?”

That immediately draws Eda’s attention away from the magazine. Her eyes flicker to the blond witch, laying on his stomach just on the edge of their group. He was still having a hard time socializing, especially with Amity, but Luz was determined to include him in all friendship activities. She said wanted to teach him how to be a kid, and hell, if anyone could knock some seriousness out of that boy it would be Luz.

Hunter is indeed asleep—his face is mushed into the forearms pillowed under his head, and his red palisman has weaseled its way to nestle in between the crook of his elbow. His breath comes out in soft little sighs, and Eda feels something in her melt.

“Awwww, he looks so peaceful,” Luz croons, mushing her palms against her cheeks. Amity’s already scooched past her, snapping photos on her scroll. Eda can’t blame her. She knows a good blackmail opportunity when she sees one.

Eda’s off the couch and catches King mid-pounce. “Whoa there, none of that buddy.”

“But Edaaaa,” the demon whines, his little arms and legs flailing in mid-air. “I have to conquer him when he least expects it!”

“Ehhh, let the kid sleep. Save your conquests for when he’s awake and can put up a fight.” Eda sets him down in his place in the circle, and the kids all glance at each other before turning back to the cards.

She notices that they’re more mindful to keep their tones softer, probably to not disturb the sleeping boy. And when Hunter wakes himself up about half an hour later, they don’t mention it, seamlessly integrating him back into their game.

The second time it happens, Raine is walking Eda home. It’s early in the evening, and the pair just got done with a fabulous date—a picnic with apple blood and sweet (and stolen) baked goods? Titan, take Eda now, she’s found her perfect match.

She’s still riding that high, not noticing Raine stopping until they tug on their clasped hands. “Hey, who’s that? Is he okay?”

Eda follows where they’re pointing their finger. It’s Hunter, slumped against the base of an oak tree, fast asleep. His chin is tipped forward and a book open on his chest, and even more strangely, there’s a small pile of leaves on his lap.

“Oh, that’s just my—” Eda stops herself, the word catching in her throat. Hunter was a child in her care, yes, but he wasn’t quite her kid. Not like Luz or King. The blond witch was still too jumpy, baring his teeth and snarling at anything that tried to get close to him.

He calls her Miss Clawthorne, for Titan’s sake.

“—Hunter,” Eda finishes lamely.

Raine raises an eyebrow. “Your Hunter?”

“He’s uhhh, one of Luz’s friends who just so happens to be living with us. Not a big thing.”

Raine shoots her a deadpan look but strides forward anyway, kneeling next to the sleeping blond. They keep their voice to a low murmur, “Should we wake him? That can’t be comfortable for his neck. He’ll probably be sore later.”

“Eh, let him rest. This is more sleep than he usually gets.” Eda steps closer, kneeling down on his other side. It’s the side that has his scar, the slightly raised red tissue standing out even more so than usual now that he wasn’t constantly moving. She’s almost asked him how he got it, but he’s clearly sensitive about the subject. She’s seen the similar marks on his arms, and something tells her there are a whole lot more scars that he’s hiding.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who gave them to him.

Still, it’s hard to ignore just how young he looks. When he’s stripped of all of his snappy comebacks, quick defenses, and that guarded demeanor Belos forced onto him, he’s reduced to exactly what he should be:

A kid.

“Oh!” Raine startles in surprise. Eda looks up to see the cardinal palisman fluttering down from above them, carrying a few leaves in its beak. It hops down onto Hunter’s lap and deposits the leaves in the little growing pile on his leg.

A smile worms its way onto Eda’s face. She runs a finger across the little bird’s head, “Trying to keep him warm, huh?” The bird lets out a trilling note of confirmation. She lets the bird be, turning back to Raine, “I think Rascal’s got this covered. If he hasn’t come in before nightfall I’ll come out and get ‘em.”

The bard casts one last glance down at the sleeping boy before they stand. “Y’know, he kind of reminds me of someone.”

“Oh yeah?” Eda weaves her arm through Raine’s as the pair reassumes their walk.

“Yeah,” Raine hums. “He kind of has the same build as someone I met when I was held hostage in the Emperor’s palace. The Golden Guard. Did you hear that he ran away from the palace? There've been rumors that the Emperor himself is tearing apart the Right Arm looking for him.”

“Uh, about that...”

Raine stops, turning to look at her square in the face. Eda gives them a sheepish, toothy grin.

“Oh my god,” Raine says. “You adopted the Golden Guard?”

“Hey now, adopted is a very strong word—”

The bard cuts her off with a delighted laugh. “How am I not surprised?” Eda feels heat rise to her face, but can’t help but return Raine’s infectious smile. “Only you, Eda. Only you.”

The third time it happens, Eda’s passing through the upstairs hallway, intent on curling up into her nest for an afternoon nap of her own. She hears a shuffling noise as she passes by the glorified storage closet that they gave Hunter as a room, and can’t resist a peek inside.

What she finds is definitely…not what she was expecting. Hunter is laying flat on his back on the floor, his feet elevated on the little cot they’d given him. Yeesh, that couldn’t be comfortable. Soft snores woosh past his open lips, his face turned toward a crystal ball that’s playing some cartoon he must have been watching before he fell asleep.

His body is nearly covered in stuffed animals.

“King,” Eda hisses. The horned perpetrator is in the middle of dumping his entire army onto the blond witch’s chest, pinning down his arms with plushies. “What did I tell you about burying people alive?”

The demon pauses from where he’s been slowly arranging his army over Hunter’s sleeping form. “He’s got plenty of room to breathe! I didn’t cover his face,” King protests. “Can’t subjugate someone who’s dead.”

“No subjugating—” your brother, she almost says, “—Hunter.”

King squints at her, but then grumbles and starts slowly taking the stuffed animals off the boy’s body. Crisis averted, Eda slips back out into the hall, mind swirling. That was the second time she’d almost referred to Hunter as hers in passing. The feeling is too raw to speak out loud yet, but there’s a growing warmth in her as she watches Hunter acclimate to his surroundings in the Owl House. With every day that goes by, he’s more comfortable around her, around Luz and King and Hooty, and he’s starting to come out of his shell. He’s growing softer, less quick to snarl, becoming more Hunter and less Golden Guard.

Unconsciously, Eda’s started viewing him as part of their little family. Two weeks ago, that thought would have made her uncomfortable. Now, she welcomes it with open arms.

Ugh, she’s getting so soft.

The fourth time it happens is when Eda’s flying home from visiting Lilith. She’s only been gone for the day, and is hoping that leaving Luz in charge hasn’t led to any freak fires, the resurrection of the dead, or other various natural disasters. Unfortunately, even her most responsible kid is pretty reckless, so Eda’s expectations are set pretty low.

It’s probably sometime around 2 a.m. when she makes it home sweet home. She swoops in close, intent on landing on the front door but stilling mid-air when she sees something on the roof of the tower. Even from up here, it’s not hard to distinguish the form of a looming body.

Eda’s heart leaps into her throat and she takes Owlbert down into a dive. Her body is tense when she lands, her staff already aimed toward the person lurking by the edge of the roof. “Alright listen bucko, you better step back or—wait.” She sees what looks like a lump of feathers sitting on top of the person’s head, and Eda squints in the darkness. She quickly pulls out a light glyph, sending the tiny ball of sun forward.

“Hunter?!” Eda’s tense posture relaxes. The kid doesn’t answer, and it takes her a beat to figure out why. He’s dead asleep, slumped precariously over the telescope they use for stargazing. Eda has no idea how he’s even standing at all. Kid probably had a ton of practice of falling asleep on his feet during long, boring meetings with the Emperor.

“Wakey, wakey.” She places her hand on his shoulder, gently, but he wakes up with a full-body jerk, startling the palisman on top of his head. The cardinal chirps once in irritation, fluttering to rest on Eda’s shoulder instead.

Hunter’s eyes are wild for a moment until he seems to register where he is and who he’s with. He relaxes then, letting out a yawn so huge it would put any lion to shame. “…Eda?”

“The one and only,” Eda says, ignoring how her heart squeezes at the kid finally calling her by her name. “Wanna tell me why you’re up here in the middle of the night?”

“Waitin’ for you,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep. His eyelids drop and he sways dangerously on his feet. “Wanted to… t’make sure y’got home safe.”

The warmth in her chest expands and eclipses her entire body in that fuzzy feeling she gets whenever one of her kids does something particularly adorable. Thank Titan it’s dark and Hunter is too out of it to notice the smile that spreads across her face. If he was fully awake, Eda gets the feeling that A) he probably never would have admitted that he was worried about her, and B) would have snapped at her for smiling at him like that. “Well, I’m home now, so let’s get you to bed before you topple over.”

Eda wraps her arm around his waist and nudges him along, practically carrying him back downstairs, their palismen following close behind. She doesn’t mind. Someone had to make sure he didn’t fall off the roof.

“Night, kid,” she says, tucking him under the blankets on his cot. Hunter doesn’t respond, already having slipped back into unconsciousness. And if she brushes his bangs tenderly out of his face, no one ever has to be the wiser.

The fifth time it happens, Eda’s gotten used to it. It's not that Hunter doesn’t sleep, she’s come to realize. He just falls asleep in weird places. Why, she has no idea, but honestly, the kid looked so tired all the time, she wasn’t going to question it. They had bigger things to worry about.

The Day of Unity is just around the corner, and Belos has become more irritating than ever.

Eda hadn’t even thought that was possible for him, but apparently, it was. The scouts around Bonesborough have tripled, their captains leading more and more raids, butting into shops to check everyone’s papers, and invading random districts.

Oddly, Belos’s priorities seem to have shifted. He’s still sending out grunts to round up any wild witches, but the guards have been playing a weird sort of hide-and-seek, going beyond just patrolling the marketplaces to actually tearing into people’s homes. From what she’s heard, the guards never take anything, just searching the place top-to-bottom before leaving empty-handed and moving on to the next house.

Belos was looking for something.

And unfortunately, Eda’s got a pretty good idea of what he’s after.

Said thing just so happens to be slumped across from her at the kitchen table, dead to the world. It’s late into the night, and most of the kids have already gone to sleep. Too on edge to lie down, Eda’s been keeping herself busy by concocting more potions while the late-night news plays on her crystal ball in the background.

Hunter, striving to be helpful, volunteered to stay up and help.

It wasn’t long before the kid slowly started to nod off, face supported by his palm as his eyelids started to droop. He’d been in the middle of mixing two ingredients—highly flammable ingredients, mind you—and Eda plucked the vials out of his lax grip just in time. Honestly, it was a miracle the kid never killed himself in the Emperor’s Coven with how randomly he falls asleep.

He probably never got the chance to sleep at all, a voice reminds her. She remembers how dead-exhausted Lily was during her first few days at the Owl House. It was probably safe to assume that the Emperor had a habit of running the head of his Coven into the ground.

Hunter has been picking up on Belos’s tightening grip, too. He’s been getting quieter, more reserved. He’s come to the same conclusion that Eda has: the Emperor was tearing apart the whole of the Isles to get him back.

Why, though, is anyone’s guess. Hunter has long since explained that his uncle always said that the Titan had big plans for him, and it probably has something to do with the Day of Unity, but beyond that, the Emperor had always kept him in the dark. Luz has a crazy theory involving clones and blood magic, but that sounds like it’s a plot point straight out of one of her Azura books. King thinks Belos wants his artificial staff back, and Hooty predicts the Emperor is just sad because all his Coven leaders are leaving him to join Hooty’s superior best friends club.

Whatever the reason, Eda’s made it pretty clear that she’s not gonna bend to Belos’s intimidation tactics and turn him over. That smarmy gold jerk could set the whole Isles on fire and Eda still wouldn’t hand him over. Hunter’s part of the Bad Girl’s Coven now, and Belos can just suck it. And she’s not afraid to say that to his stupid face, either.

So when the cauldron at the end of the table that holds the scrying potion suddenly begins bubbling on its own, Eda may very well get her chance.

She’s up on her feet in an instant, dashing to the other end of the table just as the steam rising off the potion begins to warp into a familiar figure.

“Edalyn,” Belos greets, his voice sharp like a dagger. “I do hope I’m not interrupting your evening, but I needed a word with you.”

Ugh, scrying potions weren’t supposed to work both ways! Belos was too damn powerful. He could probably peer into their lives as much as they could peer into his.

“Sorry, but now’s a bad time,” Eda shoots back. “Why don’t you hang up and call back literally never?”

“It’s come to my attention that you have something of mine,” the masked man continues smoothly as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’d ever so appreciate it if you gave it back.”

Eda’s lip curls back, feeling the itch of feathers poking out of her joints. She wants to shift into her harpy form and leap through the potion to claw out his eyes. “Sorry, Belos,” she says, dripping smug bravado, “We wild witches operate solely under the laws of finders keepers. Your kid? Mine now.”

Eda expects that the Emperor would very much like to vaporize her. “Make your threats wisely, Owl Lady. You have no idea what you’re up against. Everything will be easier for you and your little friends if you just hand the boy back over to me.”

“Fat chance.” Eda throws back her shoulders and shoots him a sharp grin. “Sounds to me like you’re threatening one of my kids, and we weirdos stick together. Going after one of us is basically asking for all of us to bring you down. Remember how well that went last time? How my human cracked your mask and publicly humiliated you during your big let’s-turn-Eda-to-stone ceremony?”

The Emperor looks as though he has some choice words to say, but Eda doesn’t care. Hunter is her kid now. She glowers at him through that mist, voice lowering in with deadly promise. “You’ll have to drag him back to your Coven over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged,” sneers Belos.

“Try me, antler boy.” Then Eda whacks the cauldron and sends it tipping over the edge of the table. The connection is immediately severed as the potion goes splattering over the hardwood, and the resounding CLANG of the bowl makes Hunter shoot violently out of sleep.

“Huh?! Whassit—Eda? What happened? Are you alright?”

“Fine, kid,” she says, swallowing down the rage that’s still bubbling hot in her throat. “’S alright, just got a little clumsy and knocked over a cauldron. Sorry for waking you.”

“Sorry for falling asleep,” Hunter responds. He grabs a towel and hurries to clean up the oozing purple goo.

Eda waves him off, “Eh, I don’t mind. You kids need your rest. Growing bodies and all that.”

Hunter still hesitates, looking at her for a beat too long as if double-checking to make sure she wasn’t really upset. Eda holds back a sigh, a twinge of pity flickering through her that he’d even have to look at her like that in the first place. All the damage from Belos couldn’t be wrapped up in a month, she supposed.

She snatches up the cauldron, still dripping with the ruined potion. Peachy. She’ll have to call Lilith to get her scrying potion recipe. Though maybe not having this in the house was a good idea. Eda doesn’t want to risk His Royal Highness dropping in on any more unexpected house calls.

“Eda?”

She looks up at Hunter. The kid chewing on his bottom lip, wringing the half-soiled towel between scarred hands.

“I just…I wanted to say thank you,” Hunter says shyly. “I know having me here hasn’t exactly been easy—not only because of the fugitive thing, but because I’m…” He flounders for a moment, and Eda can only pretend to know what’s going through his mind right now. “…me,” he finishes finally. “You’ve been so kind and patient with me, it’s so much more than I deserve, and no matter what happens next—”

“Hey, no.” Eda cuts him off with a swift and gentle beratement. She sets the cauldron on the table and crowds closer to him, curling one hand around his cheek. The kid automatically leans into the touch, and Eda can’t help but wonder how Belos could have ever hurt a child who was as sweet as this one.

“You may be one bratty little shit, but you’re my bratty little shit. And Mama says you deserve all the smothering that comes with being a child of the Owl Lady.”

Then, to prove her point, she swoops down and quickly places feather-light kisses on the tip of his nose, forehead, and his scar, until Hunter squawks and shoves her away. He’s practically glowing, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Gross,” he snaps, rubbing furiously at his face. “I’m never helping you with your potions ever again.”

“I’ll accept your terms. Now get upstairs, it’s way past your bedtime.”

“I don’t have a bedtime, I’m not a baby.” Hunter sticks out his tongue but obeys, slipping out of the kitchen and disappearing into the rest of the house. Eda shakes her head as she watches him go.

Kids. What could ya do with ‘em?

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jadeshielded · 3 months ago

Text

A well-meaning warning, a soft breath curling with short lived fondness passing his lips. “I see. An interesting proposal,” Despite the reference to warfare, Jiaoqiu’s very presence in front of him reminds that it is, in fact, no such thing. It eases the curl of discontent, to think that he might be stealing a resource from an enemy who might value it more. “While I can admit I have little experience in guiding those who would overtake my position,” Not like this, not like the fox in front of him, a leader ever-present for those needing his experience. His nation- his people evolved past him on their own merits. “I admire the mastery of leadership in this regard and would be honored to accept the proposal.”

It helped to have allies, after all. With or without war, the universe extended infinite possibilities for all that every face was unknown. The empty cup in his hands warbles as it meets chipped porcelain, and Zhongli folds his arms in front of him. “I am assuming in this, we become allies. In exchange for my continued health through this tournament, while you use the opportunity to impart an important mindset to those under your wing.” He sighs, thoughtful, nodding his head in askance. “Though the give and take of such a contract is not entirely proportionate. What then, would you ask to gain from me in return?”

“You sure you’re not from the IPC…? Haha, not everything in life has to be so transactional. maybe all I need to gain is a little variety in my day.” Jiaoqiu's demeanor is light, though Zhongli finds himself skeptical.

A heartbeat passes between them, then two. He sighs, lowering his gaze. "…Personal enrichment is not uncommon. Are you certain?"

The fox takes the concession with grace, which eases his mind better than little else could. “Sure. I don’t want for much anyway… and the ethical thing to do in my profession would be to provide assistance regardless of what one may expect to get out of doing so.”

----

They call them interviews, though the questions are not unlike a sparsely detailed biography. “We want to know everything there is about you!” The reporter says, bright eyed and wielding a much larger phone than the average. To which, Zhongli’s expression cracks, faintly amused as he folds his hands neatly at his back. “If I am to compete in mere minutes, I fear the story will have to wait for another time.”

The questions they do ask are simple enough, rapidly fired. His home planet, his birthday, his views about what it means to be a knight- he brings a hand to his chin as he thinks, "I am no knight, though, providing stability and strength to a nation is a duty that transcends planetary differences. In this, all living things share infinite similarities through history. In fact- ”

The reporter has to cut him off, their time drawing to a blissful close. “Sorry! Uh…one last thing. The people want to know – are you at all daunted to fight alone?”

To this, he feels his expression stretch toward a grin, someone titers beyond the light shining in his eyes, though he allows himself to be rushed away as they follow for an answer.

As promised, the preliminaries pass without many serious injuries. Placements, weapon limitations, and a time restriction hang overhead as Zhongli takes notes of his competitors. Rifles are not unknown to him, though these are undoubtedly more advanced than the Snezhnayan variants. He wins his first round by default, five ranged attackers peppering uselessly at his shield until the time runs out. By the second, his opponents enter with more firepower, breaking through much faster, and Zhongli feels the slightest pain ripping through his shoulder in the time it takes to wall his enemies behind simmering geo constructs.

Midday arrives with a recess. Not for the people, but for…the theatrics. Zhongli doesn’t ask, finding Jiaoqiu easily amidst the sizable army of verdant knights that take up a large corner of the restored warehouse that contestants can retire to. He goes slow, nodding to every wary or curious look cast in his direction. As he nears the fox’s side, he waits patiently for him to disengage from three healers that begin to stutter the second Zhongli invades their space, thick, expensive paper folded neatly in his hands. "I took the liberty of drawing our contract." He says to Jiaoqiu, which brings more eyes than expected. "If you have the time to look it over, I believe it to be a fair representation of our agreement. And, as I am not scheduled another round until the evening -" A group of Jiaoqiu’s own verdant knights. "Would you be willing to accompany me until then? Like this planet, much of the weaponry is foreign to me. I may be disadvantaged."

However Improbable

harmony commission: belobog major [ zhongli / jiaoqiu ]

#harmony | commission #character | jiaoqiu #title: however improbable #all i can say is that it took me 1 hour to figure out text code color because i am an idiot and now i'm out of time i literally didn't get #to do anything else other than mess with this oh my god....so sorry that i didn't get jiaoqiu's text color. this was a lesson in my own #stupidity

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flightfoot · 5 years ago

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Apollo’s Redemption Arc

Apollo was never “evil” per se within the books, not really being actively malicious during the course of the story. He did some stuff that COULD have given him the villain slot (What he did to the Cumaen Sibyl, to Harpocrates, and to Coronis most specifically) but those terrible, malicious actions that led to IMMENSE suffering were only introduced via flashback, and not in great detail. Before that, his worse actions were only referenced vaguely, like him talking about sending heroes to die on quests and not caring, and other things were toned down, like the flaying of Marsyas which supposedly didn’t happen the way it’s portrayed in myths, so it’s up in the air how bad that actually was.

The jarring change in Tyrant’s Tomb came from seeing his more actively malicious actions instead of aggressively uncaring actions and attitude of previous books. During The Hidden Oracle, The Dark Prophecy, and The Burning Maze we learned how he used to watch demigod battles on TV as entertainment, not caring about the suffering they went through. Not to mention how he didn’t care much about Commodus beating his cupbearer for spilling a drink beyond some vague pity and think it was distasteful. He’s mostly chastised for being a bystander during these first three books. The great harm he’s caused more actively was only really emphasized in the fourth book, after he’s already turned around enough that he’s not really considered the same person anymore, something that’s accentuated in the text by Reyna and Meg during the confrontation with Harpocrates.

It appears to be an effort to strike a balance; making sure the reader doesn’t forget Apollo’s screwed up and needs to change, but also never wanting him to come across as a true villain. So in early installments when he’s first starting his redemption and is still a bit of an arrogant prick at times, it just portrays him as being MORE of an arrogant prick at first, along with being uncaring. In later installments once he’s changed and any vestiges of his jerkishness have been swept away, Rick’s able to delve into how bad he’s been in the past. We’re already invested enough in Apollo to not only want him to be redeemed, but to already have seen his growth, to have already gone through a lot of it. It takes a lot of the sting out of his horrific actions in the past.

Redemption arcs need something to use to redeem a character, something that makes them realize they need to change and provide ongoing motivation for such a strenuous task, beyond just stopping doing bad stuff. Because just not doing evil things anymore ain’t a redemption; that guy who killed Katara’s mother in Avatar: The Last Airbender wasn’t redeemed just because he retired. It takes changing as a person. Often doing some specific redemptive action is also required to sort of ‘solidify’ the character change, to demonstrate that the change isn’t just in their words, that it’s a change that will stick, as well as to bring the audience and those who the character hurt or who were wary of them because of their past, onto their side. Even if the character knows they’ve changed, it’s not like anyone else can see into their heart; they can only judge by what they observe.

One thing that’s needed here is relatability; can we put ourselves in that character’s shoes and see and understand how they view the world? If a reader can do that, can understand that thought process, the redemption arc will be far more likely to work; it might even be required for a truly great one.

A lot of Apollo’s actions that require a redemption arc (sending demigods off on frivolous, dangerous quests as errands, standing by while people are slaughtered, enacting petty punishments on people who really don’t deserve it, for instance) are written in such a way that the reader could reasonably understand his mindset, though it’d vary by reader obviously, as personal experience and mindset play a large role here. It helps that for a lot of Apollo’s actions we’re inside his head, we know what he was thinking, even if we don’t know the full story of how he developed into thinking that way. With him starting off thinking of demigods and mortals as expendable, we get to thoroughly understand that aspect before changing it. Others are more mixed, like with seeing his thought process concerning the Cumaen Sibyl and her curse. He helpfully explains a piece of his thought process, namely about hoping to find the one true romance that would wash away his past failures, and then how he started hating her when denied what he wanted, and couldn’t understand that her love wasn’t transactional, wasn’t to be bought.

Come to think of it, he may have had that viewpoint because as a god, he had a lot of capital to trade. Power, wealth, longevity, all sorts of extremely valuable things he could use to ‘buy’ what he wanted. So the idea of being able to obtain love, peace, and fulfillment that way was tantalizing - especially since it wasn’t something he could obtain that way from most of the other gods. He was fortunate enough to have his sister and mother at least, so he DID have some good, healthy relationships, but that didn’t provide immunity from that mindset.

Being thrown down to Earth, being among mortals as one of them, changed everything.

Having good role models helped.

Even way back in THO, Apollo’s touched, nearly driven to tears at his children’s desire to protect him, at their love and care for him. He doesn’t expect it since he can’t provide them anything special.

And it’s not like it ends with them.

TDP: Jo and Emmie’s kindness towards others, their acceptance of those in need, their desire to help even people like himself and Lit, touches him deeply.

TBM: Jason sees worth in him, SAW worth in him, even back in Blood of Olympus, first time seeing him. Even then he risked his father’s wrath to try to get him to go easy on Apollo, because he thought it was the right thing to do. And ultimately he was willing to die in part to save Apollo.

TTT: The camp just accepts him in, weary though they are. Frank in particular expresses concern for him, that he wouldn’t want to live in a world without Apollo.

TON: Any sort of kindness towards him drives Apollo nearly (or actually) to tears (granted this isn’t exactly new). The Jackson’s/Blofis’s willingness to shelter him and Meg despite the danger, treating it as a natural sort of thing that they couldn’t possibly NOT do, Will having gotten clothes for him on the off-chance, on the hope he’d be back and wanting him to have his own stuff - the casual kindness and compassion just continues to drive home to him that THIS is how people should be - including himself.

While Apollo was shown the negative effects of his previous terrible actions, shown why he needed to change, it wasn’t just left at that. Throughout the entire series, he saw, he experienced what being better would actually look like. He wasn’t just torn down, but also built up again at the same time, this time with a healthier view of the world.

That’s one of the things that really stood out to me with Apollo’s redemption arc in particular; while he faces the consequences of his previous terrible actions and mindset, even having them thrown back at him at times, experiencing them from the other side (hello Britomartis); he isn’t treated cruelly by the people around him… pretty much ever. People are temporarily mad at him, but not for more than like, an hour, and they usually come around pretty quickly. (Not counting the people he wronged REALLY badly in ancient times, talking more about current demigods). It doesn’t feel like a redemption arc based around punishing Apollo, but one around changing him.

It’s especially fitting since this whole thing was *supposed* to be a punishment from Zeus, but ended up being far more than that.

I think Apollo put it well here, near the end of TON.

To be honest, though, I could no longer consider my time on Earth a punishment. Terrible, tragic, nearly impossible… yes. But calling it a punishment gave Zeus too much credit. It had been a journey - an important one I made for myself, with the help of my friends. I hoped… I believed that the grief and pain had shaped me into a better person. I had forged a more perfect Lester from the dregs of Apollo. I would not trade those experiences for anything. (TON 373)

#trials of apollo #ton spoilers #toa analysis #the trials of apollo #lester papadopoulos #tower of nero #the tower of nero #apollo #my analysis

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flying-nightwing · 5 years ago

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Damn Him

Hi, this is average af but I needed to post something. You’ll probably be disappointed lmao. Anyway, enjoy some Dick Grayson content!

More on my masterlist, pinned as a top post!

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader

Word count: 4798

Warnings: None

Summary: Dick Grayson never seems to say the right thing around you, and it’s not quite for the reason you initially thought

You looked up from your book when your cellphone vibrated on your desk beside you. You were in the midst of studying for your last exam of the semester, so you had your phone on a strict do not disturb schedule, which meant it remained on 24/7. Your notifications were blocked for any social media, text or calls you might receive, well, except for your one emergency contact: Bruce Wayne. He knew he was supposed to contact you only if he had no other choice but ask for your help, and never had he even used that card ever since you knew him. Reluctantly, you put down you book and marker to switch them for your phone. Turning on the screen, you ignored the various hidden notifications, focusing only on the single line that stared back at you.

Call me when you can - B.

Sighing, you unlocked your phone and pressed the contact name, then the phone icon next to it. It rang twice before Bruce picked up.

"(Y/N), how are you?"

"A bit stressed out, but it could be worse" You replied truthfully. "What's up?"

"I hope you know I wouldn't do this if I had any other solution" He began. "But I need your help on a recon mission, almost all my effective got busted last night"

"Oh my, are they okay?" You frowned with concern, even if he couldn't see you.

"Yes, don't worry" He said, "I'll explain in person, that is if you agree to come. I'd understand if you refused, though"

You rubbed the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes for a second. You owed a lot to Bruce, and since it was a simple recon stakeout, you could take one or two nights off to help him out. You were already ahead of schedule in your studying and confident in your knowledge of the material.

"Yeah, sure, I'll be there" You finally answered. "What time do you want me over?"

"As soon as you can"

"Aight, see ya"

You hung up the phone and put it back on your desk, observing it for a second. It had been gifted to you by Bruce after you began going on missions more regularly with the batlings, he said that way he knew for sure all communications would be secure and sheltered from hacking or government surveillance. You had to admit, having an encrypted phone was pretty neat, as it ran entirely on Wayne Enterprises servers and networks. The simple thought of not having to suffer through youtube ads was satisfactory enough on its own to justify the need for it, even if you didn't join missions as much as you used to.

You finally stood up and went to change from your yoga pants and loose tank top to black jeans and a sweater, then jumped in your car and drove to the manor. You punched in your code at the gate and took the right to the garages, where you entered a second code to open the doors. Your car was several notches under those parked there, but you had to have something less flashy as not to attract too much attention. Still, it was more than a majority of college students even had. You had to thank Bruce for that too. He wasn't your adopted father per say, since he found you a few days before your eighteenth birthday, but he still acted like a guardian and mentor for you.

You jogged down to the batcave, where you instantly spotted a chatty blonde sprawled in a seat, making wild gesture. She sprung up straight at the sound of you coming in and her face split in a wide grin. She jumped on her feet and skipped toward you.

"Hey giiiiirl" She drawled out excitedly. "Long time no see!"

"Hey Steph" You chuckled, going for the hug. "Sorry I didn't call, I have no excuses"

"Don't worry about it" She waved off with an airy laugh. She knew how busy school kept you, and how you kind of wanted to separate yourself fromthe vigilante life. "I'm just glad you're here"

"So am I" Bruce called from the computers. He gave you a subtle smile, and you nodded back to him. "It seems like we're in a bit of an impasse here"

You didn't miss the quick glare he sent to Tim and Steph, who sheepishly avoided looking back at him. It didn't seem too serious though, or the air would have drastically changed.

"Before he says anything, know it wasn't our fault" Steph hurried to say.

"We were totally ambushed by Vicky Vale" Tim nodded along."No idea what she did there, but she was, and she saw right through our disguises.We had to bolt before she exposed us"

You frowned in confusion. "Okay can someone tell me what is going on here?"

"Tim and Steph were supposed to go undercover and cozy up with the high leaders of what I have suspicions on good authority are transiting premium grade opium into the US and Europe, and are close partners to Count Vertigo" Bruce began, already exhausted. "But as they said, Vicky Vale was somehow invited to the banquet and singled them out immediately before they could get even near the big guys"

"My magnificent blond mane attracts way too much attention, I'm afraid" Steph sighed sadly, making you chuckle. "It's a curse, babes. I tell ya"

"Keep telling yourself that, Stephi" A new voice came from the top of the stairs. You both wanted suddenly to go back to your books as a big part of why you barely tag along on missions anymore skipped down the stairs. Damn Dick Grayson, damn him. "We all know covert missions are not your strong point"

"I'm gonna kill you in your sleep, Grayson" She smiled sweetly at him.

"No, because you suck at being subtle" He returned the grin, just as sweetly if not more. He ruffled her hair as he passed by. "What's up Timbo"

He hummed something unintelligible, flipping his brother off. Dick laughed, then almost added something when he finally noticed you. His laughter died down and his eyes widened, and suddenly he looked uncomfortable. "Oh, you're here"

"So it seems" You replied as flatly as he spoke. It wasn't new, you had never known how to act around each other. Did you hate him? Of course not, you had absolutely no reason to. Did you consider him your friend? Hard to say. All you knew was that any and every encounter you had with Dick Grayson was awkward. You got along with Tim just fine, and even Jason when he was still around. You loved Cass and Duke, and you even managed to get on Dami's good side, or most of the time anyway. But Dick remained a mystery to you, one that had eluded you for years now. You didn't understand a single thing about that boy, and you doubted you ever would. You've had conversations before, loads of them, and you had no doubt he would make an amazing friend, but you couldn't seem to get past the stage of acquaintances.

Which was frankly disappointing, because you had been instantly attracted by his charms and easygoing nature when you first met. You had been drawn to him, and you couldn't try and pretend you hadn't pinned after him for the longest time. But you hit a wall when his behaviour began changing wildly around you, right around the time you slipped flirts every now and then to let him know that you were into him. Right now, you were just really over his poor attempts at pretending he never noticed it happen.

"So" Bruce spoke up, breaking the tension that had suddenly arisen in the cave. "Tomorrow night we'll have a new opening to try and get to them, hopefully without interruption this time. I've taken a look at the list, and no reporter was on it. We should be good"

"But Tim and Steph already got busted" You pointed out. "They'll know something is up if they show up again"

"That's why they will be seen at the Gotham Charity Auction at the museum" He explained, meeting your eyes. "That's why I called you up. You'll be going undercover with Dick as husband and wife"

"What?" Dick coughed almost immediately. "We're not–" He laughed nervously. "Us? As a married couple? This is ridiculous"

Your head turned sharply toward him, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Wow, thanks a lot for the vote of confidence" You snapped. "I didn't know being my fake husband was such a terrible perspective"

"No– Wait– That's not–" He stuttered, his eyes wide. "I didn't mean it that way"

"Sure" You rolled your eyes, before turning to Bruce again. He had an unreadable expression on his face, more unreadable than usually anyway. Tim and Steph stood there in stunned silence, not daring to speak up. "What's the briefing?"

Bruce glanced in between you and Dick, before looking back at you again. "Félix Lachance and Stella Gustavsson, they're the one you need to befriend. Since you're not known to the public, it'll be easier for Dick to pass under the radar and not cause an incident like last time"

"We get it, B" Tim muttered under his breath as Bruce passed you the files with the pictures.

"I need you to retrieve any information you can" He continued, ignoring Tim's comment. "Names of business partners, location of transactions, dates, anything, you know the gig. Your occupation and alias if you want one will be at your discretion, I trust you can deal with that. As always you need to be extremely careful as not to alert them, because this is our last chance to get the critical Intel we need to take this down. So I'll need you at your A game, both of you"

This was a warning and you knew it. He let you know more or less subtly to put aside whatever was happening between you and behave like adults. You straightened your back and took a deep breath, getting your head in the right mindset.

"Alright, I'll be ready for tomorrow night" You nodded as you gathered the files. "Can I stay over tonight? There is no point in trying to study now"

"You don't need to ask, (Y/N), you're always welcome here" Bruce said, a hint of fondness in his voice. He always liked having you around, he said your presence tamed the boys. You nodded and made your way upstairs, finding the room you claimed as your own for about a year, and the same you always came back to when you stayed the night.

You went to the drawers, fishing out old training clothes you had left behind. You weren't sure all those were yours, they were probably mixed with pieces you stole from Steph and Cass. In return, they probably did also steal from your drawer occasionally, balancing it all out. You were about to change into something comfy for bed when a soft knock at your door caught your attention. You walked to it and tentatively opening the door, your expression flattening when you saw how it was.

"Yes?"

"Hey um" Dick scratched the back of his neck. "I just wanted to say, I'm sorry it came out that way. I just meant that it would be, you know, weird"

You stared at him blankly. "You're not helping your case here, Dick"

"Shit, that's not what I mean either!" He hurried to say, realizing his mistake. But you were already closing the door. "Please (Y/N)–"

"Get some rest Dick" You said as you pushed the door closed. You sighed and shook your head before adding in a whisper, "God knows we'll need it"

------

You had done covert missions before, but this was the first time you were operating in such conditions. You finished retouching your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror, wondering whether or not it was more expensive than your total life income. The floor length champagne coloured dress was stunning, tailored to your form and just sparkly enough to let you shine through the design. You suspected the shoes were made especially to fit with the dress, as they resembled its lace and belt colour. You were sporting on top of that a heavy diamond necklace with matching earrings, proving the general high cost of the outfit. Your comm was carefully tucked in your ear, functional and well hidden.

"Oh my my" Steph whistled lowly. "If I wasn't dating Timbers I would date you"

You laughed. "This is the outfit talking. You haven't seen me tired and puffy in sweatpants just yet"

"Grump, just take the damn compliment" She playfully poked your exposed shoulder.

"Alright alright, thanks" You rolled your eyes. "Since it's gonna be the only one coming from this household anyway"

Steph wiggled her eyebrows. "Wouldn't be so sure about that" She said in a sing-song voice. "Your fake boyfriend may have some thoughts too"

"Ha" You snorted, walking out of your room with her following at your side. "It's good, that you're wishful thinking. The boy can't seem to talk to me without insulting me lately"

"Trust me, he won't be able to resist to this bombshell" She gestured at your form. "Dick's a people pleaser, and looking like a whole five course meal like that, you sure are easy to please if you want my opinion"

You shook your head, a small grin on your face. Steph had always been your favourite for a reason. She knew how you felt about Dick, but she never meddled. Well, not more than she typically would anyway, and not enough to cross your boundaries. And even then, she had no explanation either for his behaviour. You finally reached the foyer, where Bruce was dressed casually, sleeves rolled up and without a tie, talking to an all dressed up Dick, his hair now dark red and with almost black contact lenses. Your heels clicking on the stairs was what snapped their attention to you; Bruce nodding at his choice of dress for you, and Dick, his mouth slightly agape. You felt Steph gently but excitedly elbowing your ribs.

"Ah, (Y/N), there you are" Bruce said. "I'm glad to see the dress fits well"

"Yeah" Dick tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "You look okay"

You blinked in disbelief as you heard Steph's facepalm behind you. You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose, while Bruce shook his head slightly at his son.

"Yikes" Tim made his presence known. You shared this one word mood immensely right about now. "Way to go D"

Dick cleared his throat, trying to push back the embarrassment blush creeping up his cheeks. "Uh, shall we go?"

"That would be preferable, yes" Bruce replied, making Steph choke and cover he laughter with a cough. The way he said it was clearly meant to be a jab to his son's tactless attitude. "Be careful"

"Of course" You smiled tightly and all but dragged Dick outside. You'd take one of Bruce's luxury car to get there, and it was already waiting in the driveway. Dick pressed the door button and slowly, they lifted up to let you in. You slid in the passenger seat without waiting for Dick's help and you kept your eyes on the windshield in from of you as he began to drive. The ride was silent until he decided to speak again, tentatively.

"It's nice to see you all dressed up, for once" He said, still clearly not thinking of his choice of words more carefully. "It's different. A good different!"

For once? Was he serious?

You audibly sighed. "I'm begging you to just stop talking"

"What?" He objected, confused. "What did I say wrong this time– Oh"

"Yeah" You replied, your tone clipped and dry.

"I'm an idiot" He mumbled under his breath. That you could agree on, but you didn't voice it out loud.

He couldn't pull into the driveway fast enough. You slipped on your fake engagement ring as Dick stopped in front of the awaiting valet, doing himself the same thing. You both had a recording device slipped in your clothes, and the ring allowed you to turn it on and off at will, as well as the comm in your ear. You turned both off for the awaiting scan at the entrance, as not to emit detectable frequencies.

"Ready?" He asked, and you gave him a firm nod. He got out first and rounded the car, opening your door for you as he would be expected to by this particular crowd. You took his offered hand to climb out and linked your arm to his as he gave the keys to the valet in exchange for a ticket. He left a tip before you walked inside, registering to the guest list. You passed the security checkpoint without a hassle and found yourself in the hall where the auction was held. You turned on your comm and recording device again.

"Recon first, then regroup?" You suggested in a mutter as you were both visually scanning the room.

"Yep" He replied shortly. "B, copy?"

"Crystal clear"

"Good. Let's go"

While Dick headed to the bar, you opted for the art collection on display, pretending to scout for potential pieces to bid on. But your eyes weren't on the expensive paintings and statues, but moved around the room to spot some VIP lounge or area where the big shots might hang out at. There was a room where attendees came and went, but you shrugged it off as there wasn't enough security for the profile you were searching for. You paused your recon for small talk here and there, and you were in the middle of a casual chat about painted landscapes with an older gentleman when Dick rejoined your side, handing you a drink.

"There you are honey" He smiled sweetly, his unusually dark brown eyes reflecting the light from the chandelier.

"Joey, my love, allow me to introduce you to Sir Fernand Bretworth of Essex" His alias flew out of your mouth naturally, then you took a small sip of your drink. Non alcoholic, nice thinking. "We were discussing impressionism and its influence on modern art"

You wanted to smirk at the clueless look Dick gave you. He was a prodigy in a lot of things, but art wasn't one. It was more Damian's thing, or Tim's if he tried hard enough, but definitely not Dick's. Take that now.

"Ah, yes..." He replied slowly. "Fascinating indeed"

"Alright" You let out a small, cover up laugh as your hand rested on his bicep. "My husband has little interest in art, my apologies"

"No offence taken" He chuckled. "I'll leave you two, my wife must be looking for me. An old fool like me gets easily distracted!"

You laughed along with him until he was out of earshot. Then you dropped your hand and turned to him. "Noticed anything?"

"Yeah, there is a guarded room with special access" He said as you walked deeper into the crowd not to look suspicious. "Only owned of a special pass can go in, and the guards are very thorough"

"Great" You breathed. "Now let's hope out lovebirds will come out to mingle"

"As it turns out..." He trailed off, and instinctively, you began turning your head toward where his gaze lead. He immediately redirected your head back to him with a firm, but gentle touch on your cheek. His hand remained there for about three seconds longer than necessary, until he realized what he did and retracted his arm. You could have almost enjoyed it if he didn't look like he was touched by literal fire. "Don't look"

"Sorry" You mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

"... They got out, they're talking to people" He informed you, ignoring what just went down. "You go for Stella, I'll take Felix. Remember, friendly but not suspicious. Sweet talk your way into spilling the beans"

"I know" You bit back, your voice low. "Not my first mission, remember? I know what to do"

"I was just reminding you"

"Yeah, I got that" You scoffed. "If you don't trust me, just say so, it'll save you trouble of babying me"

"Come on, that's not–"

He began arguing, but you walked away before you could slip up and say his real name. It would give him one more reason to come down on you like you were a beginner in need of guidance. You were rusty, not stupid. You didn't need him insulting your undercover talents as well. You stopped in front of a beautiful emerald necklace that had a start bid of ten millions dollars and took a long sip of your drink, now kind of bummed it was non alcoholic. But that very detail was probably why you felt a presence approaching you from behind, giving you a few seconds to compose yourself and sweep your frustration under the rug.

"Trouble in paradise?"

You turned around, surprised. It looked like the voice made you jump, when it was in fact the nature of the question that threw you off, as well as the person who had spoken. Before you could ask, the Stella Gustavsson smiled warmly and nodded to where Dick had been seconds earlier.

"I saw what happened" She began, and your heart skipped a beat, hoping she hadn't overheard. "Those frustrated hands gesture are all too familiar. What did he do?"

You relaxed slightly, for now. "We've been having trouble lately, well, more than usually" You explained with a little complicit cock of your head. She seemed to get it. You, on the other hand, knew Dick was hearing everything on his comm, so you decided to go for it. "He's acting... Weird. Can't seem to talk to me without irritating me, whether on purpose or not. I'm sorry, I'm venting to a stranger, I can't imagine how it must look look like.

"Don't worry about it dear, I asked" She winked, extending her hand. "I'm Stella"

"Aleka" You shook her hand.

"Your dress is stunning, by the way!" She exclaimed. "Which designer?”

You froze for a second before shrugging. "No idea, my designer got it for me" You brushed off. "As long as it looks good, I don't care where it comes from"

"Amen" She said, taking a sip of her champagne. "Although, I need to know the name of your designer. They have amazing taste, and I'm looking for a new one for myself"

Oh shit.

"It's B" You replied instantly.

"Bee?"

"Yeah" You nodded, and she looked at you incredulously. "I mean, that's what we all call him. I'm sure he has a name, but I pay him to dress me, not to know his personal life"

"Harsh, (Y/N)" Bruce said in your ear, and you remembered he had been listening to everything. "But nice save"

She laughed, unaware of the comments from Batman himself. "That is very true. How have I not met you before? I feel we have a lot in common"

"I sincerely have no idea" You replied, adding a little gasp of disbelief.

"You're different from this crowd, I can feel it" She kept going on as you started walking side by side in the exposition room. "Everyone here only cares about petty, trivial things. You have a head on your shoulders, you're smart. Too bad your man can't seem to see what's in front of him"

You sighed in agreement to hide the fist pump of victory that threatened to come up. Just like that, you had won Stella over. "I don't know what to do about it. I've tried to talk to him, but it just makes it worse"

"But have you tried to make him jealous?" She suggested with a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised. "There are plenty of young men around, or older bachelors if you're into that. Flirt with them, make sure he sees you, he'll come running, take my word"

"It won't work, he's not–" Even my boyfriend, you were about to say, but you saved your fall just on time. Still, you could practically see Dick's glare in the back of your head at the almost slip up. "Jealous. He's not a jealous man, he's very confident and secure"

"What a shame" She drawled out, going for her champagne again. "Here's what you can do then. Go to him, take him by the neck and french kiss him like there is no tomorrow”

You choked on your saliva as she watched you with a mischievous grin. "Excuse me?"

"It's guaranteed to work, darling" She lifted her shoulder in an elegant shrug. "Then you hold him off. You'll thank me later tonight when you're back at home, just wait and see"

You were about to argue some more, but her insisting stare told you she wasn't just going to let it go. So you scanned the crowd for Dick, spotting him casually excusing himself from a conversation group, going for a refill at the bar. You reached him and grabbed him by the elbow, bringing him face to face with you. You made sure your back was to Stella before beginning to explain the situation.

"I heard" He told you in a mutter, making sure his lips were unreadable under Stella's stare from the distance.

"Then you know what she expects" You sighed, slipping your hands behind his neck. "It doesn't have to be deep, just convincing. Can you do this without grimacing?"

You thought he would stumble into some weak apology, or say something clever. He did neither, instead dived straight for your lips so quickly it was you who was taken by surprise. Naturally, all you could do is kiss him back and try to keep up with him. At some point you thought he would break off, but you weren't prepared for him to actually deepen the kiss. He wasn't letting you go, and it made you dizzy in all the best ways. Let's say you were thankful for his arm around your waist right about now. Finally, you still had to breathe, so you parted reluctantly.

"What was that for?" You asked, your eyes still dazed.

"An apology for irritating you unintentionally" He grinned boyishly, for probably the first time ever directed at you. "I'm an idiot"

"Can confirm" You replied, bringing him down on your lips again. This time, it was a bit shorter, but the spark was still very much present. "You should have done this a long time ago"

"I know" He nodded, his head slightly down and his puppy dog eyes shining even underneath the dark contact lenses. "You're a bit intimidating, I didn't know how to act"

You let out a loud laugh at his confession. "You're kidding"

He pouted.

"Me?" You repeated. "But you're– You're you!"

"Well, duh" He chuckled. "You've got me all tangled in here," He pointed at his chest. "Made me nervous all the time"

You melted just a little bit at his little display, before remembering doing this was a specialty of his. You were just not used to be on the receiving end of it. "You're lucky you're cute, and that I'm already sold on you"

The bright grin returned.

"As heartwarming as this moment is, please focus on the task at hand" Bruce's stern voice echoed in your head, and you were suddenly reminded your conversation had been integrally transmitted to him.

"Right, sorry" Dick apologized sheepishly.

"See, I told you"

This time, you were taken by surprise by Stella walking on you. Even Bruce's intervention hadn't quite brought you back to reality. Damn Dick Grayson, damn him. You turned around, trying to hide your flustered state and instead focusing on the tall gentleman at her side. Must be Felix Lachance, you thought.

"It works every time" She added, sipping from a new glass of champagne.

"You were right" You let out an airy laugh. "Stella, this is my husband Joey Moore. Joey, this is my new friend Stella"

They shook hands before she introduced her husband to the both of you. You already knew his name, but you both pretended you didn't for the sake of your covers.

"Nice to meet you two" Félix smiled politely.

"Hey, would you like to go for a drink after this?" Stella asked. "I sure would like to get to know you two better"

Dick and you exchanged a glance, knowing you had locked the target. Acquiring intel from now on would only be a piece of cake, the base was laid for further actions. You smiled, returning your glance to Stella.

"That would be absolutely lovely"

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagine #dc #dcu #dc universe #dc imagine #dcu imagine #dc universe imagine #batfam #batfam imagine #imagine #nightwing x you #dick grayson x you

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periminkle · 5 years ago

Text

Orphic | 01

After moving into your own place, it seems life is finally going your way; the path to independence leading you to a quaint suburban town where even the grass seems to grow a little greener. Although a shocking encounter leads you to believe that perhaps appearances can be quite deceiving.

pairing: hybrid!jk x reader (first person)

genre: hybrid au, angst, fluff

word count: 7.3k (includes slightly edited version of preview!)

rating: PG-15

warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, scuffle, not nice people >:(

author’s note: the first chap! thanks so much for all the love for the preview and pls let me know if you enjoyed it bc i have even more of a praise kink than our king jimin :) i don’t wanna know if u hated it lmao get outta herE

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“Almost there... And... Done!”

I heaved the last of the sturdy boxes into the narrow doorway, pride bubbling at my unexpected strength. Droplets of salty perspiration were beginning to form at my temples and became increasingly uncomfortable the longer I stood there.

But, with a litter of obnoxiously brown boxes blocking the route into my recently purchased home, I had no way of setting foot past the minimal space by the doorway. “Shit.”

Spontaneously deciding that enough energy had been exerted for the day, evident by the shroud of darkness out the expansive windows, a few steps took me back out the front door. I followed the chipped white timber of the sides of my house, heading towards the back entrance.

Even though the plot was relatively large in size, the cottage built upon the land was minuscule; a single floor encompassing a kitchen, living room, hallway, bedroom and bathroom.

With that being said, the rest of the expanse was mine to revel in and admire. Hence the lack of fence encompassing my area, seeing as the forest bled its way into my recently mowed lawn anyhow.

The bulk of the towering woodland was hidden in a blanket of obscurity, brought about by the later hours that subtly induced unease. Those late night horror movie marathons only worsened the unrest in my mind.

I tried to dispel the disquietude with thoughts of the methodic chirping, courtesy of the tiny orchestra of crickets that seemed to be scattered in every which direction. The smell of the damp earth invaded my senses and relaxed my shoulders a fraction.

Albeit, the crunch of dead leaves being trampled under a heavy weight belonging to an unknown being unsettled me enough to break into a scurry along my wooden porch.

With a slight shiver slipping down my spine, I shook any solicitude off and slid open the unlocked door. I was greeted by the cool air conditioning of the indoors, as well as a telltale grumble from my own drained form.

I preheated a batch of leftovers that I’d thankfully packed from my family’s house, foreseeing how debilitating the move would be. Without regard to the lamentable furniture surrounding me, I plonked down on a creaky seat and felt my depleted energy stored slowly being refilled with each bite.

Even though my furnishings and house were humble, regret had no place in my mind for the difficult decision I’d made to pack up and leave my childhood home. Over there, the lights never flickered and scuffled furniture simply didn’t exist, with even the moldings on the walls lacking even a speck of dust.

But I witnessed, lived, through the monstrosities that lay beyond all those superficial aspects. The suffocating nature, not in the air that circulated around the place, but in the individuals with no respect for one another. My tolerance thinned over the years and I’d left the second I could.

Living in a secluded area of my tiny town had its own perks for my antisocial self — one of which being an absurd amount of land for a relatively cheap price — but the appeal of living in a bustling city wasn’t lost on me.

For reasons excluding my relatives, I was simply tired of having lived in a city my whole life and desired some form of change, meeting new mindsets and developing my own.

Before I’d even properly settled in, I’d been convinced that moving out here had been a brilliant decision. Saving up for a couple years to be able to rent out a cozy cottage with a stunning forest as my backyard was turning out to be my haven.

Albeit, the pesky bugs were certainly not a part of that bliss.

I detached myself from the distant thoughts about my life hundreds of miles away and focused on the scenery across from me, better able to observe the breathtaking quality of the tenebrous forest from the safety of my new home. The sylvan scent penetrated my home, having closed only the window screen behind me when I entered.

Hearing the weak mewl of some kind of feline peaked my curiosity, wondering if a neighbour’s cat had taken a long journey and gotten themselves lost. I picked up the slow movement slinking among the bramble that connected my backyard to the thick timberland.

The light from my lamps only extended so far and unluckily, I was unable to properly identify the animal staggering towards my back porch. My heart ached, thinking that this poor animal must be starving and in need of help.

An apparent limp in its movements tugged at the last of my heartstrings. My fridge was stocked full, being one of my top priorities when I moved in; so food wasn’t a problem right now. Deciding it would be nice to make a new friend, I gathered my own bowl and headed outside.

The sliding of the window screen startled the pitiful creature, making a hasty retreat in the form of a hobble to find refuge in the foliage, hiding and waiting for my next move. I let out a small smile, hoping to appear as friendly as possible as I slowly stepped out into the chilly night air once again.

“Hey buddy, what’re you doing out here?” I crouched down and laid the bowl on the floor. “It’s kinda cold out, hm?”

Not even the twitch of a leaf.

“Are you hungry?”

I was met once again with no reaction. Deflated yet understanding in the lack of trust, I pushed myself back up, grabbing the bowl. As I stepped towards the door though, I heard it again.

Mew.

With a quiet giggle, I turned back, winked at the still-hidden creature and stepped inside, sliding the door closed. The night was silent, save for the trill of the crickets reaching their own encore for the night when the door abruptly opened once again.

“You like tuna, bud?” A smaller plate with canned tuna, out of the can but still in its cylindrical shape was placed on the last step of the porch. “Thought you might like that more than leftovers, huh?”

Although the same lack of response took place, I wasn’t deterred this time, smiling one last time into the darkness. “Enjoy it, but not too much okay? Go back to your owner’s house after this.” I let a shiver run through my body from the cold nipping my bare skin before ambling back inside to finish off my own dinner.

Despite my words, I did hope the kitty would come visit again.

I felt yet another ache pulse through my stiff back. The absence of a proper bed to sleep in at night was duly noted and the task of assembling my bed frame was bumped up higher on my to-do list for the day. Another night of cuddling up on the freezing, rigid floor with only a flimsy sheet to cushion my restless body might strip a decade out of my life expectancy.

A feeble attempt to flatten out my wrinkled button up — that I painstakingly ironed the day before — proved as fruitless as the dozen other times I tried smoothing it out just this morning. I brushed the imaginary dust off my modest pencil skirt while I was at it, resigning to my rumpled fate.

Groaning, I swiftly nabbed a granola bar and a pre-made sandwich I’d filled with tuna, inspired by the incident with the hidden feline last night. Despite the gruelling urge within me to check for possible remainders on the porch step, the blinking light from the oven clock pushed me down the slender hall and back to my barricaded doorway,

I squawked in recollection, pushing at the hefty boxes in a flurry. Eventually, I created a tunnel which I crawled through, slipping some sneakers on before stumbling out to the bus stop. When I recalled that the closest stop was a five minute walk, time being a luxury I couldn’t afford right now, I broke into a sprint.

With heaving lungs, I reached the little blue shelter just as the bulky vehicle rounded the corner. A few steps, the tap of a card, the beep of the completed transaction, and a huff brought me on to an austere seat.

The same shade of prosaic blue within the bus itself led my eyes to the view beyond the dirty windows, marvelling at the vibrant greens and bright earthy tones that blocked any view of the sky.

Fifteen minutes condensed into seconds, my mind racing with the new possibilities and experiences this town would bring me. Even the prospect of the shy kitty returning again tonight prompted a brief smile.

Dismounting from the stifling vehicle, I took a moment to adjust to the blinding white shade of the laboratory; I pursed my lips in determination. Hoping to appear graceful with long strides, I made my way to the entrance, pulling open the heavy door with a click. A receptionist came into view.

She could barely be seen over the lengthy, curved desk, only the top of her coiffed strands on the crown of her head peaking through. As I approached, I took in her excessively teased hair and big brown eyes, accented with thick, black liner.

Clasping both hands together in a bundle of chilly nerves, I patiently waited for the tapping of the keyboard to cease before she turned one heavily shadowed lid towards me. “Hello, welcome to the Test Centre of Enriched Mutagens, how can I help you today?”

Only slightly intimidated, I fumbled with my fingers out of sight. “Uh, hi there. I recently got hired as a lab attendant here.” Cursing my distinctly timid tone I continued, “I was instructed to ask for a Kim Seokjin?”

A stiff nod and more typing was my only reply. Orbs remaining trained on the monitor in front of her as the lady picked up the receiver, punched some numbers in a rapid succession, then situated the phone between her right shoulder and ear. The fervent tapping continued.

I wondered what she was typing up that was so important.

“Yes, she’s here director,” she quipped. My gaze lodged itself onto her name tag, framed by her strawberry blonde locks. Bae Eunmi. “Of course, I’ll send her up.”

The receiver clicked in place as she nodded her head towards the left. After a couple seconds passed with no further acknowledgement, I became increasingly aware that the short interaction was all I was going to get out of the curt woman, trekking over to the elevator she had indicated earlier.

With only two floors to the laboratory, the trip wasn’t long enough to grant me time to compose myself from the abrupt conversation I experienced before I was met with a long hallway, ending with a sturdy door that had a slit above the bulky handle for a keycard.

Seeing as I had not received any sort of card, I peered around at the nameplates drilled beside the other wooden doors. This floor ominously had no windows, a dingy, low lamp the only source of light that allowed me to decipher the engravings.

I passed a few flashy titles before I reached Assistant Director Kim Seokjin.

With a deceivingly confident knock and a shaky inhale I picked up a faint, “come in.”

A rather spacious office was revealed as I pulled open the heavy wood — shelves filled with packed binders, loose papers scattered across the desk with a thin monitor practically concealed under neon coloured sticky notes. Even the two chairs tucked away in the corner had a teetering stack of paperwork on each seat.

I took a step inside the chaotic space and bowed to the man whose sunken eyes flickered to my own. “Hi, sorry to disturb you. My name is Y/N and we talked on the phone last week. I’m the new research attendant.”

He flashed me a kind smile through his exhaustion, his evidently dull features proof of a long night. Considering the sheer amount of paper work in his office, I wasn’t sure a good night’s rest was ever on this man’s schedule.

“Ah, yes, you came down from the city, correct?” I nodded in confirmation, glad he remembered our previous conversation. “My apologies that the director couldn’t meet you himself, but you’ll get to see my handsome face instead,” he chuckled, sounding faintly similar to a windshield wiper. “I’m Kim Seokjin, the assistant director, but you can just call me Jin, everyone here does.”

I felt my tense body slacken at his warmth and bright disposition despite his arduous workload. Unconsciously, I suspected the whole staff may be terse and unwelcoming, though I was thankful that I was pleasantly mistaken. In my comfort, a chortle escaped my lips. “Alright then, Jin, a pleasure to meet you.”

“Of course it is,” he exclaimed with a jesting harrumph. “So, how are you liking this lonely town so far?”

Taking a few steps closer I responded honestly. “Even though the loneliness hasn’t hit me yet, I feel like I can finally breathe here. The city was a bit much sometimes.”

Humming in an understanding tone, I watched him rise from his plush chair, plucking one of the many binders out of the shelf and placing it on top of the mountain of papers on his desk. “That’s a good mentality, you know? I hope you can always find the silver lining in any situation you’re thrown into.”

Jin grips one of the many contracts laid within and slides it over to me with a pen. “Sign each highlight please.”

As I read over all the nitty gritty details, the man across from me continued, “I really hope you can be as resilient as we need you to be, Y/N. I know it’s tough work, but I just have a good feeling about you.”

Not paying much mind to Jin’s ramblings I easily agreed and handed the completed contract back.

“Well, come on then, I’ll introduce you to the people you’ll be working with.”

I accompanied Jin back out his office and down the hall, past yet another sturdy wooden door. The strong, pungent scent of coffee assaulted my nose, confirming the new space I’d entered was the break room; two male employees lounging around and sipping on their steaming mugs.

“You finally came out of that office Jin?” A tall man leaning against one of the tables called out first, grinning with his dimples on full display. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Yeah, well, it seems like I’m the only one doing work around here anymore.” He jested, a playful smirk attached to his handsome visage.

“You can’t blame us, you know Hyunho and Minzi would never let us breathe the same air as their ‘confidential project.’ Wouldn’t want our ‘inexperienced hands’ ruining the whole thing.” The other man in the room rolled his eyes, taking another sip of the bitter liquid in his cup.

“We’re not getting into this again, you two.” Seokjin gave a stern look, any lighthearted air in the room dissipating along with his remark. He glanced back at me, nudging me forward with a tap to my shoulder. “This is the new lab attendant, Y/N.”

Although the sharp-eyed man spared a sympathetic glance my way he backfired with, “yeah, the third one this month.”

“Yoongi, I said that’s enough.” Although Seokjin’s words were strict and clipped, the palm rubbing over his face displayed his fatigue.

“I just don’t understand why we can’t even have access to the files, I mean we are researchers too, this is complete bullshi—”

“Y/N, I’ll be heading back to my office to finish up some paperwork, alright? These two can show you ropes.” The assistant director turned in my direction, the corners of his lips twitching upwards ever so slightly before trudging back to his office.

The shorter man slammed his mug down on the shabby table with a low, “goddamnit.”

“Honestly, I think this little guy is the best part of the whole place.” The dimpled man who had introduced himself as Kim Namjoon flashed his dimples, attempting to overcompensate for his gloomy partner, Min Yoongi.

The two had been working as lab assistants here for a few years now and despite the seniority, Namjoon insisted on maintaining a first name basis with both him and Yoongi. He also offered a tour, which I graciously accepted.

“A jaguar?”

“A baby jaguar.” The sprawled sleeping form of a pitch black feline met my eyes. “He was brought in about three months ago. His name is Taemin.” I carefully approached the cage, maintaining a safe distance as a general precaution despite his lack of consciousness.

Rather than providing comfort, I found that the muzzle locked around his jaws unsettled me further, which I found oddly paradoxical. I guess my designated tour guide picked up on my discomfort when he voiced, “he’s docile enough to us, but if Hyunho or any of his lackeys come by, he can get real aggressive.”

This was the second time that name popped up into the conversation and I quelled my blazing curiosity, dispelling any urges to question Namjoon about the mysterious figure. With the negative context his name was brought up with and the dark, brooding look Yoongi wore, I decided it was best not to prod, for my own sake as well.

I was brought back to reality when the animal in front of me shifted slightly. Despite my reluctancy to become attached, I couldn’t help but coo when a stretch wracked his small form, turning over in his sleep.

Although I had done my share of research into this laboratory before applying to the position and was cognizant that they didn’t harm any of their subjects — I knew Taemin’s life wasn’t in any danger, but he would be gone once all his testing was complete. I refused to get too emotionally attached in order to avoid future heartache.

I noticed his head cuddling deeper into his plush bed and knew my plan was futile. “You think he would like me?”

Namjoon let out a hum in thought, “I’m not too sure. You can try petting him if you want, just make sure to let him sniff you first.”

Slowly unlocking the cage, I extended my hand towards the muzzle, waiting with bated breath. The still sleeping animal brought up its head and placed his cheek in my cupped hand, letting loose a faint purr that I felt traveling up my palm. I stroked the edge of his jaw that wasn’t covered by the muzzle.

Oh no.

It was too late, Taemin owned every inch of my heart.

Gently placing his head back down onto his fluffy bed, my hand made a swift retreat as I flicked the lock back in place. I hoped I would be able to see more of the baby in the future.

Standing back up to face Namjoon I reluctantly tore my gaze away from the angel behind bars. Pondering when we would head to the second floor after having examined every speck of dust in the first floor, I voiced my thoughts to the lanky man. “So, are we heading back up now?”

A sigh met my ears and I turned to look at the brooding culprit who hadn’t opened his mouth since the tense interaction with Seokjin, simply tagging along the tour that Namjoon narrated. “We can’t introduce you to anything you haven’t already seen upstairs.” When he met my confused orbs he continued, “we can only enter the break room and Jin’s office up there, everything else is off limits.”

“Oh, um... I don’t mean to sound rude, especially since this is my first day and everything, but the equipment down here seem pretty... Insufficient for quality resear-” I stuttered out my concerns.

“Don’t you think we know that? Why do you think we go through lab attendants so quickly? Nobody wants to stay in a place that doesn’t have the proper equipment to perform any kind of substantial research. Not to mention neither of the head researchers trust us enough to even look at the stupid files.”

Namjoon piped in, probably sensing how heated the other man was getting. “We mainly just note the patterns in the bases of a variety of animals’ DNA that involve certain genes.”

“Not to say that’s not effective research, but scientists with your qualifications usually investigate more ground-breaking subjects.” I became a bit dejected at my own future here; I applied for a job here to further my ambitions, knowing this lab was well-known for its high quality studies.

Would I be forced to move back to the city? I couldn’t tuck tail and scutter home after all the effort and money I expended on this move, not to mention the disastrous situation I would be faced with if I returned now. No, I was desperate to find a reason to stick it out. “Why do you two stay here then? Why not just find another lab?”

“It wasn’t always like this, Y/N. It’s been over half a year now since the new management came in and basically brought in a whole new set of personnel with them. They took all the most expensive equipment upstairs and sealed it behind a locked door.”

“They even replaced the damned cleaning staff.” Yoongi scoffed out, painstakingly fed up with the circumstances.

Namjoon crossed his arms, giving a warning look over to man with bleached locks, probably in order to keep his anger from bleeding through for the second time today. “They were adamant about keeping Jin and he let us stick around, couldn’t leave this lab in the hands of complete strangers.”

“But why—”

My wrist was suddenly enclosed in Yoongi’s long, thin fingers, dragging me into the assistant researcher’s office they had familiarized me with half an hour ago. I saw Namjoon glance around before entering in after us and closing the door behind him.

Yoongi released his grip on me, leaning in close and hissing out, “it’s all some cryptic confidentiality bullshit. They’re doing something up there, something revolutionary, something dangerous, and they only trust their own people to keep quiet.”

With a hum, slightly intimidated, I questioned, “okay, but why did they evacuate the whole place, why not just build another lab and—”

Namjoon leant against the door, lowering his voice as well. “This is a remote town, there won’t be many people to question and investigate what they’re studying all the way out here.”

With many overwhelming thoughts raging, the locked door upstairs abruptly came to mind. “You don’t have the keycard either, I’m guessing.”

“You pick things up pretty quick, huh?”

After the draining events at work, I felt no motivation to peel off my thoroughly wrinkled items of clothing, having switched out of the lab clothes in the changing room back at work.

Rather than a physical enervation, the realization that my expectations to further my own studies was not a reality here sapped me of any incentive to unpack or do anything of value.

The temptation of warm pyjamas encasing my shivering body as I slept another night on the hard surface of the floor was almost reason enough to conjure up some hidden energy from the deepest recesses of my body.

I crawled my way though the makeshift hole I made earlier in the day through two of the boxes. Thankfully, no roommates meant that the house was absent of another being to pester me regarding the hassle I made at the entrance, though I thought it was quite clever considering my circumstances.

The sun had set many hours back, which I failed to detect as all my concentration was set on marking down the base sequence that brought about Taemin’s black fur colour. Jin was double-checking the state of each room before locking up for the night when he discovered my form, hunched over a microscope.

Continuing to the kitchen on hands and knees out of my present shortage in strength, I nearly decided to call it a night right there in the middle of the hallway. Though, I settled with briskly whipping up an egg or two in hopes that it would replenish enough energy to tidy up a bit before retiring to bed.

I left the eggs to cook as I departed, off to locate a plate, which I only had two of at the moment, courtesy of the unloading that needed to be completed at the doorway. A glimpse into the sink revealed the location of one suspect, dirty from yesterday’s dinner.

I tugged open the nearest cabinet to search for the other one because I sure as hell was not washing any dishes right now. But, instead of the ceramic I was expecting, the bare walls of the storage area stumped me.

The memory of the creature I’d met yesterday flashed through my mind, bringing about a sudden burst of excitement that had me shuffling my way to the backyard door, flicking the porch light on and staring at the wood that seemed to glare back at me.

No sight of the tuna or the plate.

Initially, I took extreme offence to the absurd situation. I graciously extended a helping hand to a vulnerable cat to enjoy some savoury tuna and the bugger decided to steal—

Wait.

How in the hell did the thumbless feline pick up the hefty plate in the first place?

After snooping around the surrounding area a bit, no sight of the pristine plate, I gave up. Maybe it held the ceramic in its mouth?

The mental image I’d conjured up brought a slight chuckle out of me, cutting short when catching sight of several crimson paw prints on the porch, accompanied by specks of the same hue. I pondered the unusually large size of the print, slightly larger than my palm.

An alarmingly large quantity of blood appeared with each step, the pace of my heart quickening with worry both for myself and the creature. Who could harm a massive animal like this and for what purpose?

I also thought about if the splotches would wash out with the rain or if I had to slot in a time to come out and clean off the marks. Although, the cleaning supplies were also in those unpacked boxes, so any stain removal had to be put on hold.

The bloody prints extended into my lawn as well, blades of grass covered in a layer of red. From what I could make out, the trail was U-shaped, beginning from the forest, coming to where I stood at the porch, then heading back.

A spike of fear travelled through me when a thicket shook violently. Were these stains left by the kitty I encountered the day before? From my limited knowledge in zoology, I doubted that large cats could even produce such pathetic mewls with their vocal chords, which were better suited to growl or roar.

But what was a creature of this size doing on the outskirts of civilization? I wasn’t too sure about how far the woodlands extended past my yard, but I was relatively certain that the bulkier predators had more than enough space to themselves without needing to expand their territory.

I was in the midst of this back-and-forth conflict with myself when I heard a familiar cry reaching my ears. Pushing back my raucous thoughts for a moment, I settled on responding to little thief.

“You’re back! Do you happen to have my plate by any chance?”

The lack of response confirmed my suspicions. I was now down to one, currently grubby plate in the house.

“Alright, fine, keep the damn thing.” The initial fear and suspicion I felt had simmered down quite bit, heavily due to the lack of aggression on the animal’s part and a distinct fondness I held for my first friend here that I wasn’t aware of yet. Though, I remained on guard, as there could always be another beast lurking.

In order to discover any of answers I was seeking, I knew that I had to take matters into my own hands and decipher whether my pitiful kitty was actually a large, ferocious feline— badly hurt, nonetheless. I took the portable first-aid kit out of my bag as well as the forgotten, squished tuna sandwich.

Removing the saran wrap and crumpling it into a ball, I placed the much-smaller-than-I-remember sandwich down on the wood as bait. “Guess we can’t be civil, huh bub? If you’re gonna steal my plate, have the courage to show yourself, you criminal," I teased and hoped to lure the cautious creature out.

Nothing.

“Hey, you wanna come and let me get a look at you? I can see if I can patch you up, how about that?”

Nope.

“Come on, look! You’re favourite tuna, in a delicious sandwich now!”

Nada.

I pouted at the bundle of leaves I knew the feline was hiding under, hoping to elicit some kind of reaction. Albeit, any sliver of hope was crushed with the lack of movement. Worry grew at the back of my mind, desperately hoping that the creature could live through their seemingly dire injuries. I flashed a regretful smile and lowered the sandwich on the last step.

At the very least, I wished that the snack would provide energy for its body to repair itself. With one last glance at the silent underbrush, I turned my back and lumbered into the confines of my cottage. Hopefully, I would get another chance to beckon the mammal out of its hiding place tomorrow.

The contrast of the dark droplets of blood against the light wood of my porch disturbed me more than I’d like to admit.

The daily routine of travelling to work, interacting with the few friends I made there and coming back home to attend late night meetings with my concealed kitty was growing on me. I was elated that I finally found a group of my own people, and not-quite-people, to converse and share thoughts with.

However, this town also seemed to have its own fair share of rotten apples.

I finally met the rumoured Lee Hyunho, a bulky man who introduced himself as one of the two head researchers. He seemed polite enough at first, but I detected the same brusque characteristic I noticed in the receptionist from my first day.

It appeared that all the staff brought in by the “new” management had this particular quality.

My own frustrations began to grow alongside Namjoon and Yoongi, constantly repeating the same tasks over and over again, day after day. When I tried to confront the other head researcher, Joo Minzi, about granting us more access to the studies they were conducting, she made it very clear that my “inexperienced hands” were not permitted to touch any of their files, test subjects or even approach the lab upstairs.

Charming, really.

The interaction left me fuming, much to Namjoon’s amusement, claiming that he now had two fiery beasts to quell. My interactions with the arrogant staff members were limited though, and bouncing between Namjoon, Yoongi, Jin, and the surprisingly amicable janitor made the work days bearable.

I also took immense pleasure in going against Minzi’s words by playing with Taemin every once in a while.

I was proud to announce my accomplishment in finally unloading all of the supplies within my many boxes to anyone that would listen, now able to revel in the tidiness of my living space. The guys were able to visit now too, previously refusing to crawl through my rather unique entryway.

Progress concerning my kitty was little to none, but I did discover that it was immensely therapeutic to relay my worries to the mammal, finding comfort in its presence.

I took the rustling of the leaves as acknowledgement for my exasperated tone. “I mean, I don’t even feel like a researcher there! It’s all ‘hey newbie, go get me a coffee,’ ‘this is classified, no touching,’ ‘you can’t participate, this isn’t a charity,’ blah, blah, blah...” I raised my tone and ended my rant with a pout, embodying the childish behaviour that encompassed how I felt I was being treated as of late.

“Remember the really cute janitor I was telling you about? Jung Hoseok? Well, he was telling me about some stuff he heard when he was cleaning the lab upstairs.” I heard a short swish of foliage being disrupted, which I assumed was a result of the creature tilting its head.

“Apparently, they’d made big advancements on whatever stupid ‘highly confidential’ project they’re working on. It definitely has something to do with the patterns in different animals’ DNA, but I can’t pinpoint exactly what they’re trying to accomplish...

“And guess what? Hoseok said he’d overheard that they’d lost a test subject a little over a week ago! There’s probably a mouse scurrying around somewhere, living his best, liberated life right now.” I shifted in place, adjusting my position to make myself more comfortable in the chilly night. “I just wish I knew what was going on, you know...”

“I wanted to prove them all wrong.” I sneaked a glimpse at the forest for any indication of a vocal response I knew the creature gave occasionally. In a small voice I added, “but maybe they were right.”

Another shuffle broke through my lengthy monologue and I facetiously grinned towards the camouflaged animal. “Y’know, I’m starting to really question whether you’re here for my company or for this,” I pointed to the tuna, disturbingly still in that short cylindrical shape.

I stared past the obscure stalks of the trees, having found consolation and tranquility in the space a few days prior, even from beyond my glass door. My initial apprehension of unknown monsters subsided and it was reassuring to know that my kitty was somewhere in there as well.

Another shuffle revealed a pair of bright, beady eyes meeting my own enlarged ones. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest by the sudden appearance, although I tried not to alarm the creature back into hiding by revealing my own trepidation.

Knowing the keen senses felines had, there was little doubt in my mind that the one across from me wouldn’t be able to pick up my instantaneous change in demeanour.

“You gonna come and get it or what?” With a slight nod towards the meal, I cursed the slight quiver in my voice and prayed that the creature felt comfortable enough to reveal more of itself to me. My curiosity was bubbling as I allowed my gaze to travel to the crown of its head.

I concluded that the creature’s fur was either pure black or another dark tone, hard to decipher when I didn’t have the enhanced night vision of the mammal perched a few metres away. Said feline made no further movements, keeping his gaze trained on me.

I analyzed the elongated slits that served as pupils, engraving the rich green shade of its irises into my mind, fearful that this sudden intimacy may scare the mammal off, never to be seen again. But, I found myself unable to divert my gaze, feeling as though I was staring at a physical manifestation of the pure soul of the forest.

It was utterly mesmerizing.

An impatient gruff left the creature’s mouth, snapping me out of my reverie and I resigned. “Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m leaving alright?”

Maybe one day the mammal would feel comfortable enough to eat in front of me and I could migrate my dinners to the porch outside. Refusing to get too greedy, I reminded myself that the baby steps taken today were infinitely better than none at all.

With one foot in my house, I turned back to the tantalizing eyes, still focused on my pyjama-clad form as I beamed back gratefully. “’Night bud.”

The snapping of the lock clicking back into place alleviated some of the soreness of my overworked muscles as I took another step inside. My head fell back to sneak a glance at the ceiling, hoping to peek past the old plaster and stare into the eyes of any higher being out there.

I quickly considered whether to thank them for this opportunity of a lifetime or to curse them out for my seemingly limitless workload.

As my eyelids slid close in defeat, an exhausted sigh involuntarily slipped out into the silence. Kicking off my shoes into the pitiful pile by the doorway to join the rest of its brethren, I wandered deeper into my rather small abode in the darkness; only my padded footsteps and the zipper of my jacket being undone

Hearing my stomach rumble with its complaints, I made the couple steps toward the kitchen’s light switch. But, an abrupt halt came with the memory of yesterday’s optimistic plan of embarking on a trip to the grocery store after a short work shift.

Evidently, I hadn’t predicted the gruelling day I would have nor the extra hours that would be requested of me. I found that I’d been frequenting the store quite often as of late, the demand of food increasing once another mouth to feed came into question.

In a reluctant fashion, I pulled my jacket back up to my shoulders, knowing that the fridge was just as empty as my stomach currently was. I pushed my aching limbs back towards the entrance, pondering over whether the grocery store was even open this late in the night.

However, I was forced to a grinding halt once again as I heard a booming thump from my backyard and my blood ran cold.

I waited with bated breath as my heart rate elevated, pounding in my ears. A minute of stillness passed before yet another sigh escaped my jittery body. Another disadvantage of a remote plot included being frightened by every snap of a twig.

As a scoff passed through my chapped lips at my own cowardly antics, I began to resume my trek to the front door when another thud reached my ears. The recognition of the sound coming from the backyard alerted me that this time may be different, with the presence of an actual threat.

Following a series of gut-wrenching cracking noises, hurried footsteps approaching the wooden porch in my backyard startled me to action.

Hastily, I dashed back to the kitchen to grab an unnecessarily large kitchen knife out of the drawer and flew to cover behind my minuscule island. A quick glimpse down towards my chest revealed my shaking hands. Well, this is certainly one way to spice up my night.

Listening to the intruder fumble with the lock for a little while before it was being smashed into, I knew I couldn’t just stay cowering behind my kitchen island, waiting for this murderer to come and end my night (and all my subsequent nights thereafter). The rage behind having to buy and reinstall a new lock also propelled my need for revenge.

I took in a deep breath and steeled myself as the footsteps wandered in, coming straight towards the kitchen. A loud growl reverberated throughout my house and befuddled me further. Was the intruder simply a feral animal? The lack of a problem with my lock dismissed that thought but I couldn’t shake the feeling of a predator having sneaked into my house.

The feeling of being stalked.

I rapidly shook off that irrational thought, doubtful the stranger even knew of another presence in the house. As the intruder turned the corner — coming straight towards my hiding spot — I reared back a little before launching myself with my dull knife leading the way.

A screech made its way out of my throat as the intruder’s reflexes were evidently a lot better than mine, catching my wrist before I could inflict any damage. But, I refused to give in just yet as I attempted to smash the hard edge of my palm straight into the stranger’s nose in order to buy myself some time to flee.

Unfortunately, for me, that attack never reached its target as the intruder caught my throat in his other hand much faster and used his larger frame to smash my body against the fridge.

The wind escaped me, though I kept squirming to try whip my knee straight to his crotch as a final ditch attempt. I lightly cursed as a glimpse informed me the intruder was a brawny man.

He noticed my struggle and easily flipped me around, one hand finding purchase in my hair, banging my head against the cool metal of the fridge and the other held both of my hands pinned to my back. The knife clattered to the ground in a dangerous arc.

In the middle of wondering how the hell he gathered my wrists and disabled me in a split second, I felt a heavy growl in the shell of my ear. A cold shiver slipped down my spine, adrenaline slowing leaving my body as we both puffed out breaths of exertion.

What the actual fu—

“No hurt, need bandage and go.”

His broken English came out with a slight accent and I found myself nodding instantaneously as I tried to work out what he needed. “Okay, okay,” I muttered as best as I could with half my face smushed, “I have bandages in the big drawer by the sink. You can take those.”

I only received a grunt in acknowledgement. He nudged me with his foot to shuffle backwards with his hand still wrapped around my wrists and led me to the sink. Half curious about his motives and half accepting that I could never overpower the stranger, I followed obediently. Though that didn’t stop me from deliberating over how to outsmart the man.

Deciding on waiting for an opening or a slack in the grip around my wrists, I nodded my head towards the drawer I was referring to earlier and finally peered up at my intruder’s shadowed face. He wore a black ball cap on, aiding in hiding his features which were mostly guarded by the lack of light anyway.

A glance at the lower half of his visage allowed me to witness his pale lips and the small mole directly underneath them, as well as a sharp jawline leading to his exposed neck. Inconspicuously bringing my gaze even lower, I took in his matching tattered black outfit, confirming his bulky build and scuffed sneakers.

Maybe I could run to the nearest police station — which admittedly, was rather far, and provide a detailed description of the criminal. Considering if I made it out alive, of course.

With his vacant hand he swiftly pulled the drawer open, taking handfuls of bandages, gloves, bandaids and other miscellaneous items I crammed in there. The stranger stuffed as much equipment as he could fit into the large pocket of his hooded sweatshirt.

I would have found his full little pouch endearing if I wasn’t preoccupied with worrying over my own well-being.

Another awkward wobble later, we were back at the fridge. At this point, I was gathering all the courage I had left to aim for a pressure point on the criminal’s thigh that I vaguely knew the location of. I should have paid more attention in those self-defence classes, damnit.

Just as I turned to act, he bent down to pick up the discarded knife off the floor, effectively deterring my attack and forcing me into submission. He then turned to me to flash a slight smirk.

“Cute.”

Releasing his death grip on my bound wrists, he sprinted back out my now broken back door, heading off.

After a couple minutes of stewing in my thoughts, back against the cool fridge, I struggled to comprehend the brief interaction and the dark drops of crimson littered all over my white tiles.

I still have to go grocery shopping.

tags: @aurorakingsley

#jungkook fanfic #jeongguk fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jeongguk scenarios #jungkook imagine #jeongguk imagine #jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #jungkook au #jeongguk au #jungkook hybrid au #jeongguk hybrid au #was it evil to end on preview #it felt right tho #you gotta know what happens before to find out what happens after #that's my excuse anyway

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rewiredthethirdblog · 7 months ago

Text

Comment by KTCKintern on Reddit

Thanks for opening up about this stuff. And remember, no matter what response you get were all just strangers on the internet. We’re not therapist or counselors (though I have counseled hundreds of young adults in the past). And we obviously have no idea about the nuance surrounding your situation. Best case scenario we help you ask the right questions, help bring perspective and put courage in you to move forward in some way.

That being said, I think one of the awesome things about being a realtor is the freedom you have. One of those freedoms is that if you don’t vibe with a coach or team lead, you can find one that seems to “get you”. You know as someone that struggles with these things that there are some days where “hard work” is not going to help. You need something else. But you also know there are days when you actually need to be motivated and encouraged in that way. It’s a tricky situation. I think it’s unfair to expect a team lead to be able to navigate that balance well. However, I think if you like a lot of what this team provides you could have a very real conversation about what you’re going through. Everyone is adults here. If you feel like you need to move on then whereever you end up next you should still consider having that same conversation. Find the right fit by being 100% transparent. If they seem nervous about your condition, they aren’t the right fit. It doesn’t make them bad people, just not what either of you need.

Also, we all know that person that said “medication is a crutch” is wrong. Only you know how open they are to change in their mindset. That’s either a situation where you ask questions to get them to see the flaw in their beliefs or you just smile and nod and let them remain in their ignorance. Either way, it’s nothing to take personally. They’re just an ignorant person. Which again, doesn’t mean they’re a bad person.

I’m not encouraging you to seek a new career, only you know the nuance of that. I am however encouraging you to seek your best fit. I went from 4 transactions year 1, to 19 year 2. I grew up dirt poor and now I make six figures and I’m good at my job. But more importantly I have values in my life and I pursue those at all cost. This job helps me pursue those values and is in line with those values. However, if it wasn’t, I would quit tomorrow. Im not married to the job, I’m married to the values and vision for my life. Everything else is negotiable.

Best of luck to you and your husband.

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lunarr-rrose · 4 years ago

Video

What is the Deal with Paralegals?

https://u109893.h.reiblackbook.com/generic11/the-storage-stud/what-is-the-deal-with-paralegals/

Courtright Law specializes in real estate, litigation, estate planning, and various civil and criminal matters. We focus on serving and protecting all interests of our clients by practicing honesty, integrity, and trust in all matters. We cater to both, individuals and businesses alike. Whether it’s helping you with matters related to commercial or residential real estate, negotiating transactions, drafting contracts, or other matters, we always prioritize your best interests, while limiting your liabilities. Our dedicated team of lawyers will always help protect your assets and enforce your rights.

https://www.getcourtright.com/

Fernando O. Angelucci is Founder and President of Titan Wealth Group. He also leads the firm’s finance and acquisitions departments. Fernando Angelucci and Steven Wear founded Titan Wealth Group in 2015, and under his leadership, the firm’s revenue has grown over 100% year over year. Today,

Find out more at

https://www.thestoragestud.com

https://titanwealthgroup.com/

Listen to our Podcast:

https://thestoragestud.podbean.com/e/what-is-the-deal-with-paralegals/

With an engineering background, Fernando is able to approach real estate investing with a keen analytical mindset that allows Titan Wealth Group to identify opportunities and project accurate pictures of future performance.

Titan Wealth Group was founded in 2015 with the vision of gathering individual investors that have the means to invest but lack either the time to find high-yield investment opportunities or the access to these off-market deals. All too often, founders Fernando Angelucci & Steven Wear came across investors who had deployed their capital only to regret the lack of consistency or degree of returns their investments were producing. In response, Titan Wealth Group provides access to highly-vetted real estate secured investments and off-market acquisition opportunities primarily in the Greater Chicago MSA. Today, Titan Wealth Group not only assists individual investors but has grown to support the acquisition goals and capital deployment of investment groups, private equity firms, and real estate investment trusts (REITs).

As a facilitator of wealth growth, Titan Wealth Group believes that success is not limited to the sum of our efforts and is infinite with what can be accomplished through partnership.

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

Fernando Angelucci (00:01):

Hello, everyone! Welcome back. So on this episode of What's The Deal, The real estate podcast that gives answers, we'll be covering What's the Deal with Paralegals. It turns out they're not parachuting attorneys, as I thought when I first grew up, but instead crucial members of the legal field. Joining me today to coordinate the truth about paralegals is a good friend and colleague, Mary Gawlak. Hey Mary, how are you?

Mary Gawlak (00:30):

Hi, Fernando! How are you?

Fernando Angelucci (00:30):

I'm doing good. You feeling better?

Mary Gawlak (00:32):

Much better, much better. Thank you.

Fernando Angelucci (00:33):

Good.

Mary Gawlak (00:33):

Thank you.

Fernando Angelucci (00:34):

So, let's start off with just kind of telling the viewers who you are and what you do.

Mary Gawlak (00:40):

Well, I am, my name is Mary Gawlak. Like you said, I am a paralegal. I've worked for David Courtright, Courtright Law. I've been here for about almost two years, but I've been working in the field since 2002. I have an extensive background with real estate and mortgages. So that's why, I guess I landed my job here.

Fernando Angelucci (01:05):

So, give me a little bit about your history. How did you get into this field? Walk me through your past here.

Mary Gawlak (01:12):

I started out as a loan officer and that's how I got into real estate. I was a loan officer for a small brokerage from 2002 to 2004. Then I went from there to Washington Mutual Wells Fargo, and then I started getting a little bit more interested when I went to work for Mac Companies. I started getting into more of the legal aspect of the real estate transactions. And unfortunately, they went out of business. So, I went out on David's doorstep and he took me in and I'm glad he did. So

Fernando Angelucci (01:55):

Yeah, I love working with David , or I should say love working with you because I think it's more you and me working together than me and David. But, so

Mary Gawlak (02:03):

Thank you. I appreciate that. Even though you drive me crazy sometimes.

Fernando Angelucci (02:08):

I know, I'm so sorry.

Mary Gawlak (02:11):

I love you, Fernando. You know i did

Fernando Angelucci (02:15):

Hey, I got you that dartboard with a picture of me and Stevens, and now you can throw darts at us.

Fernando Angelucci (02:23):

Anytime you get mad at us. So, all right. So for the people that don't know, what is a paralegal? And how are they different from an attorney?

Mary Gawlak (02:32):

Well, of course we don't give any legal advice to anybody, but I basically do everything, coordinating, everything making sure we have all the necessary documents for closing. We start out by getting in a contract. I usually start out try to call our clients as soon as possible, introduce ourselves. Let them know that, you know, when it comes to inspection time or anything, if they want to ask for any repairs on the buy side to feel free to contact us David is very good about, you know, calling people back and going over punch lists or whatever repairs at the home inspectors want. So I kind of coordinate that, everything is timed. We have certain amount of time to, you know, get attorney mod letters out and inspection requests. So we have to monitor those time periods. I helped do that.

Mary Gawlak (03:30):

And David works with me on any attorney modification letters that we sent out to the contract or that we receive. He helps answer those. Going forward then I make sure we have survey's, title ordered. We do title examination, make sure the titles are clean for closing so that we don't have any last minute issues gathering information to clear title. Making sure we have, like I said, payoff information just anything else that we might need, as far as maybe some receipts, when there are repairs that need to be done for the sales side. Well, how to make sure that we send all the receipts and coordinate closing when it comes time. So I work with the lender as well. We tried to get all the information upfront so that we can give them their loan policy accurately and you know, and then just work towards closing whatever they need. I'm the go-to person. So everybody calls me for everything. So

Fernando Angelucci (04:43):

I know when I'm, so for us in our business, I know that the second, a contract is signed between me and a seller, me and a buyer, it immediately goes to you. Usually we'll put together an email with everything. I know, usually it's not enough though. Most of the times it's not enough. And then, I usually jump on the phone with you and say, Hey, Mary, here's what I got. Is there anything that I missed or here's some special things to consider on this deal? And then you're basically my go-to person from there until the closing. And then every once in a while, David will call me to say, Hey, closing's done. You got to check waiting for you or whatever it is.

Mary Gawlak (05:22):

Yeah. Those are the nice and easy ones.

Fernando Angelucci (05:27):

So it's been, I mean, as far as our business working with you has been absolutely amazing, you know, I'm not very good. I'm not very good with details and more of a high level person. And you kind of keep me on the straight and narrow. So that helps a lot. I really appreciate you for that. So, I know you covered like all the stuff that you do, but like let's say, what does it like a typical day in the life look like? Like what are you doing?

Mary Gawlak (05:56):

Right now?

Fernando Angelucci (05:57):

Today? Yeah. Other than jumping on a podcast with me.

Mary Gawlak (06:01):

My desk is a mess. I'm working on like five files at one time. Sometimes it gets a little tricky when we have a few closings on the same day, because there's figures that need to be sent over. And then we're going back and forth with what's this fee. Why is this fee here? Where are we charging this? Where are we not charging that? So that becomes a little tricky. I also have to send out and now, especially with the COVID, we have everything pre-signed by the seller. So I have to prepare all docs ahead of time, make sure they get it notarized. And we get originals back in time for closing. So there's just an extra step now that we have to worry about. But yes, the day in my life is working on five to 10 different files at the same time. So

Fernando Angelucci (06:53):

Doing everything from chasing sellers down to arguing with buyers,

Mary Gawlak (06:59):

It's hard to say because every deal is unique. Every deal that comes is different and there are different issues and different things that need to be done and addressed. So it's just kind of hard, but I'm just here and just do what I can while I'm here.

Fernando Angelucci (07:15):

Now I've dealt with some attorneys that just do everything themselves. They don't have any paralegals, you know, why should an attorney use paralegals or have paralegals in their office?

Mary Gawlak (07:26):

Well, because it just helps with emails and especially like when there are closings and life still goes on beside, you know, behind the scenes. So when they're busy at a closing, you know, there's other work that needs to get done, that isn't getting done. It's a lot of, you know, coordination and tracking and, you know, depending on how many files you have at one time, maybe they could do it themselves. But once you get into processing a lot of files, it could be a little tricky. So yeah, I'm his go-to person. He goes to the closing, I have everything ready for him while he's there dealing with that, I'm working on the next file or, you know, hearing the, you know, so yeah, it's a matter of just having a helping hand, which, you know, helps a lot. I'm sure David appreciates that. So,

Fernando Angelucci (08:22):

So we have, a lot of range of experience of people watching these podcasts, usually all the way from, you know, first investor I'm about to get ready to close on my first deal all the way up to, you know, I do 50, 75 deals a year, should a client or a new investor inquire about, you know, paralegals when choosing an attorney to work with, or is that, do you not ask about that? What's the kind of the,

Mary Gawlak (08:47):

Well, I mean, it really depends. I mean, for the most part it's really like, I would think like the attorney is one that would probably say, okay, I need a paralegal or I wouldn't. I think you get better service when there's a paralegal. Because again, he's running around at closings, I'm on the phone with clients and taking care of things that need to be taken care of. So, I mean, I guess four hands is better than two, so that's how I would look at it. And you know, like I said, he's busy a lot of times where he can't, you know, have, doesn't have the time to reach out to the client to ask them a question or can you confirm this or how do you want to respond where? That's what I do. I'm here to do that for him. So it, I think it's very beneficial to have if the attorney has a paralegal, but again, it's just, I guess it depends on the volume of files that they have at one time. But if it's a busy attorney, I would say yes, so paralegals is very beneficial and David will agree.

Fernando Angelucci (09:57):

Yeah, I know we have a couple of busy attorneys that actually watches as well. One reached out about two weeks ago. How would you advise an attorney that's ready to hire a paralegal? How do you advise them to choose the right paralegal? What are the things that they should be asking, looking for? Cause you've been fantastic. I love you to death, Mary, and if you were not in my life, I would pull all my hair up. So,

Mary Gawlak (10:20):

Thank you. I just think it's experience and you just have to have a passion for it too. You know, it's like I get sometimes a little worked up when something, you know, when I see somebody who's trying to get away with something. So I think it's also a passion that I have for the business, but mostly mainly experience because like I said, every situation is different and you come across some things that, you know, your past experience will help a lot. So

Fernando Angelucci (10:54):

One of the things that I've noticed about you that is fantastic is, how much attention to detail you have. Like you see everything and you go everything over everything with a fine-tooth comb, the contracts, the settlement statements.

Mary Gawlak (11:08):

Yeah, too much. That's a lot sometimes. Cause I,

Fernando Angelucci (11:12):

I mean, honestly, like I'm the exact opposite, right? Like I see the forest, not the trees and little things that are actually super important. They can derail a whole deal. Like I didn't even see it. I like glimpse right over it. And then you come back and you say, Hey Fernando, here's some things I noticed on a settlement statement. What are these charges? Where's this money going to, and I'm like, just close the deal. It's fine. It's like, we can't close the deal until I get this answers, Fernando. You know? So, I'd say if there's an attorney out there watching that is looking to hire paralegal with the attention to detail thing is huge. I think that is a,

Mary Gawlak (11:50):

You're right about that. Yes. Because I'm looking at a title right now that I see there's an old mortgage on there from 2001 that was never released. So if we wait, if I didn't catch it, we'd wait until the closing table and everybody would be looking around, okay, what is this, why is this, instead I caught it and I'm gonna clear it up before closing. So,

Fernando Angelucci (12:14):

Yeah. So, I know one of the things, one of the issues that I have, and I've been getting a lot better at this is being able to delegate tasks to people, to actually have them help me and not handcuff them and then second not micromanage them. So it's kind of rolls into my next question. What are some of the common mistakes that you have seen attorneys make when it comes to utilizing paralegals? Right.

Mary Gawlak (12:38):

I haven't really, I mean, I don't, I really don't know what other attorneys do behind the scenes. I do notice that sometimes the attorney gets a little, might get a little too involved in something and could potentially maybe even, you know kill the deal. So

Fernando Angelucci (13:00):

We've seen it on our deals, right? Some of the attorneys on the other side of the table, just getting too much into the nitty-gritty and not letting their staff work through it. And then, like you said, sometimes passions run a little high and everybody just says, you know what, hands in the air I'm done, walk away from the deal. And then all of a sudden this, the client is sitting there saying, you know, Hey, what happened? I thought we had somebody to buy our property. And all of a sudden, you know, I know we've killed a few deals in the past because we saw the attorney on the file and we say, you know what, we're not either they get a new attorney or we're not working with them. You know? So, it is super important. Now on the flip side, you know, what are some common mistakes that you've seen paralegals make when it comes to working with their attorneys or working with others?

Mary Gawlak (13:47):

Maybe the same thing, getting a little bit too involved, where they shouldn't. Instead of trying to maybe, you know, calm things down, maybe making things worse or, you know, not having the knowledge of how a transaction is supposed to be conducted and then raising suspicion because they don't know how to do it, or, you know, things like that. I've seen, you know, maybe that happen. Another thing is just not, no communication. That's a bad thing. And you know, also not keeping track of the timelines that you have. I mean, you could really mess up a project. I mean, you do have contingencies, you gotta be, you know, on top of those or ask for an extension, you know, so my, you know, if you don't stay on top of that, you can really hurt your clients because they might come back and say, well, you know, this is where I'm with the inspection. Oh, no, I didn't ask for an extension of the inspection period. It's too late. So that's very important. You have to be very, you know, on top, like I said, on top of the timelines and everything from the beginning of the contract to the end, it's just constant monitoring it. So

Fernando Angelucci (15:01):

I know the communication portion is huge. I remember a couple of files. I'm not going to name names here, but two years ago or so, where we had send out correspondence to the attorney on the other side of the table and it would take them two weeks to get back to us. And usually what I noticed is this is typical of those attorneys that are kind of semi-retired let's say, they're already, they don't have any staff. They don't have an office. They travel half of the time they're in Europe and the other, they don't have a paralegal, you know? So it takes a while for them to get back. And like you said, real estate is a very time-oriented transaction. Yeah. Very time sensitive. Absolutely. So that's huge. So for some of our newer investors that are watching, you know, what advice would you give to them when they're looking to close on a property for the first time? What are things that you expect to see from them? What should they be looking out for?

Mary Gawlak (15:57):

Well, again, it's, every situation is different, but communication is the main thing. I think they should be looking for somebody that if, they can call, they can email I'm available. I answer emails, you know, sometimes 10, 11 o'clock at night. So,

Fernando Angelucci (16:14):

Midnight. I've gotten, I'm getting texts, email from you at midnight.

Mary Gawlak (16:19):

Holidays, you name it.

Fernando Angelucci (16:19):

Right! Yeah, absolutely. No, I appreciate them.

Mary Gawlak (16:22):

I don't answer all emails, but if I see that it's something concerning somebody who's very concerned or it's very important, I will answer the emails. So I think that's very important. Just communication. I think that's the biggest thing is each be able to get your attorney or paralegal on the phone when you need to, you know, and without waiting for days for a return call or so,

Fernando Angelucci (16:49):

Well, maybe that kind of rolls into the next question, which is, you know, what advice would you give to somebody considering becoming a paralegal? So maybe being available, it'd be one of those things.

Mary Gawlak (16:59):

Yeah. Again, passion, passion, passion.

Fernando Angelucci (17:03):

Passion.

Mary Gawlak (17:03):

Cause if you don't like what you're doing, it could be very stressful, I guess.

Fernando Angelucci (17:11):

Yeah.

Mary Gawlak (17:11):

Is the word. So yeah, you gotta want to do it and you have to make yourself available. I think that's very important to us here at Courtright Laws, being able, I mean, David gives out a cell phone all the time too, and you know, just being available to the clients when they need you.

Fernando Angelucci (17:28):

And I think the flip side is important too, about, you know, how can a real estate investor do things to be a better partner to you and to the attorney, to the paralegals? You know, I know one of the things for me is, like you said, just over communicating everything, making sure every we're on the same page, but then also giving them enough information from the get go. I know that's something I had to learn with you, instead of trying to piecemealing emails back and forth. Now I have this whole email template says, here's the buyer. Here's the seller. Here's the real estate consultant, here are the brokers. Here's the lender. Here's all their contact information. Here are the important dates, attorney, attorney review inspection, contingency, close date. And I know, I'm sure, you're less likely to throw darts at my face on your dartboard when I do those types of emails. So it just,

Mary Gawlak (18:19):

It just saves a lot of back and forth and necessarily if you just, here's all the different, you know? Exactly. So,

Fernando Angelucci (18:27):

Yeah. And your time is super valuable. Like you said. I mean, at any given time you're working on five to 12 files at a given time. So having to constantly say,

Mary Gawlak (18:36):

That's per day. I actually have,

Fernando Angelucci (18:36):

I need this be,

Mary Gawlak (18:37):

Yeah. There's times when I have almost 30 files in the pipeline together. So, yeah

Fernando Angelucci (18:43):

Crazy. Yeah

Mary Gawlak (18:44):

I would say at a time, I'm usually working on that many at a time, but I do have, I mean, most times I do have 30 to 35 files in the pipeline at one time. So,

Fernando Angelucci (18:57):

How do you keep all that organized? That's my mind would go,

Mary Gawlak (19:00):

I have four kids. I learned how to,

Mary Gawlak (19:05):

Multitask. I'm a multi-tasker

Fernando Angelucci (19:08):

That's good. Well, so I really appreciate you coming on Mary, you know, I've said it multiple times, so I'm gonna say it again. I love you. You have made my life so much easier. Anything you want, you ask from me? I'll get it for you.

Mary Gawlak (19:20):

Thank you Fernando. You know what I like,

Fernando Angelucci (19:20):

Yeah I do. Before we conclude, How, how can people reach you? And is there anything that they should know before they try and contact you?

Mary Gawlak (19:34):

Well, it's very simple. If you have any questions at all, just give us a call. Our office number is 7089073080. My email address is [email protected]. So up on the screen, I see. Pretty good. So yeah. So if you have any questions at all, we're here everyday, night, at least till five. If you need to reach me after hours, please feel free to send me an email. I'll get back to you as soon as I can. That's all.

Fernando Angelucci (20:09):

And you usually do really quickly. So I appreciate that. Thank you very much for coming on Mary. You know, I got a couple more files. I'm sending you away this week, so be ready for them.

Mary Gawlak (20:19):

Cool, keep me busy.

Fernando Angelucci (20:19):

Yeah, I will.

Mary Gawlak (20:22):

I know I slacked for a whole week. I went away for a whole week on vacation,

Fernando Angelucci (20:28):

Yeah, I love how, when you say your on vacation, and yet I'm still getting emails coming in each week. At the next time you go on vacation, I'm taking your laptop and your cell phone. You're just going to have to go around with a rotary dial phone, to mute yourself on accident. There you go.

Mary Gawlak (20:42):

Okay. If I had a car.

Mary Gawlak (20:46):

Okay. Hey, I appreciate you, you take your time out of your busy day and I'll talk to you soon.

Mary Gawlak (20:50):

Okay. Thanks Fernando.

Fernando Angelucci (20:53):

Bye.

Mary Gawlak (20:53):

Bye bye.

Fernando Angelucci (20:55):

Well, everybody thanks for tuning in again to What's The deal, The real estate podcast that gives answers each week, we try to bring on a professional or an expert in the real estate field that someone from the outside of someone just getting started may not really understand what the role is or their importance appreciate you guys to tune in. If you have any questions or if you have any suggested topics or suggested guests, or maybe you'd like to be a guest on the podcast, go ahead and drop that in the comments below. Make sure to hit the subscribe button so that you get up to date notifications when we're going live in the future. And for this week, the post Thanksgiving edition, I hope you guys all have wonderful holidays leading into the Christmas and New Year's. Thank you very much. See you guys soon!

#real estate #real estate investing #the storage stud #storage stud #fernando angelucci #self storage #alternative funds #Mary Gawlak

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pulseofthestars · 4 years ago

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Abatina, ivy, peony

abatina : is there anything in life your muse has changed their mind about over time ( due to becoming more educated on the topic , certain experiences , etc . ) , or that they would change their mind about under certain circumstances ?

Now this might seem inconsequential for people not familiar with Kamille but after meeting a certain someone he cared deeply for Kamille changed his thoughts on his name. Originally Kamille hated his name due to it sounding like a girl's name to others (Just one reason he would over compensate in terms of masculinity by doing things like amateur mobile suit construction and practicing martial arts along with his temper) but after meeting Four he gradually came to like his name after learning her own story. I've hinted a bit at Four and her connection to Kamille in previous posts but I can always do a more detailed post if anyone's really curious. Kamille also has gradually learned to stop seeking revenge for wrongs, realizing that the mindset of looking for vengeance only perpetuates the cycle of violence and bloodshed that has plagued mankind for generations, learning to keep his anger in check and moving past grudges and vendettas.

ivy : what are your muse’s views on marriage ? do they believe it is something strictly for love , or an institution rooted in business & social benefits ? do they desire or have they desired to be married ?

Hmm, largely depends on the verse but for main verse Kamille and verses related to like Fate and Berserk he sees it on an individual basis. Like he can see marriages being done for love and genuine affection while others are more for benefits and as a business transaction (He's still not entirely sure which way his parents went with their own marriage originally). As for a desire, after going through Zeta and being Kamille "All but one of my potential love interests is dead" Bidan you might be surprised to learn that he actually still wouldn't mind getting married to the right person one day. Of course he still has to deal with PTSD from the events of Zeta but he definitely wouldn't be against tying the knot someday.

peony : what would a ‘ happy life ’ look like in your muse’s eyes ?

A happy life for Kamille.... In a realistic sense it'd probably be having the chance to spend time with his remaining friends and comrades from Gryps in a time of peace, where instead of having to worry about the next Titan attack or how to get momentum for the AEUG the biggest worry would be figuring out what to have for dinner for everyone. An ideal sense though... a happy life would be one where the people he lost weren't lost, lieutenant Emma still being there to lecture him but to also give words of reassurance when needed, Apolly and Roberto ribbing him but still having his back when needed. Captain Henken being the literally tallest dork trying to get the nerve to ask Emma out on a date. Rosamia is able to have fun and not fear that the sky was falling. The Argama crew, including Captain Bright and Lieutenant Quattro are discussing peaceful times instead of having strategy meetings for the next battle. And both Fa and Four are by his side, smiles clear along with his mother, taking steps to a better life away from that man. That would be a happy life, one of peace and war nothing but a distant memory... But it's just a dream, even if peace comes, too few of the comrades he had are alive to see it come.

"Yeah.... Besides... I'm not sure if I even deserve a happy life to begin with."

... Kamille...

#headcanons

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tanadrin · 5 years ago

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now i want to hear your distinct rants on all those religions, but especially taoism, vudun, and norse paganism

Norse paganism is Super Problematic: human sacrifice! nothing wrong with pillaging from Constantinople to Ireland and back! slavery entirely condoned! Plus a mythology so depressing that the whole religion was abandoned en masse almost as soon as missionaries showed up and promised the existence of a loving god and a world that wasn’t going to abruptly end one day because all the gods were going to get eaten by a wolf.

Side rant: deeply spiritual reconstructions of pagan religion usually miss the fact that historically rites and rituals in polytheistic traditions (including Norse, Roman, Celtic, and Greek traditions) were all about a purely transactional relationship between gods and men; you sacrificed to Odin not because he was a Jungian archetype of the human spirit, but because if you did your raiding expedition would be successful. If your “paganism” 1) doesn’t literally believe in the existence of the gods, and 2) doesn’t treat them as a supernatural vending machine (Insert Entrails, Receive Blessing and/or Curse), I’m pretty sure what you’ve got is a cosplay situation that takes itself too seriously.

(unless you’re up front about the fact that recovering the exact mindset and traditions of the past is impossible, and any attempt to do so will always have to confront the fact that you cannot entirely forsake the material and social conditions that inevitably color how you view the metaphysical, in which case, respect)

Taoism is a political philosophy that got eaten by supernatural speculation; but even the core political philosophy was... not very good. It was, essentially, a kind of primitivist authoritarianism, that saw the best way to ensure prosperity and prevent war was to fragment society into tiny states that barely needed any kind of leadership, to keep people tied to the land and ignorant of their surroundings, and to eschew learning and scholarship. While it can be seen as a reasonable reaction for the time against the turmoil of the period in which it was written, at least the Mohists were capable of direct action (many became siege engineers, on the principle that helping cities defend themselves discouraged wars of conquest!). And the existence of the Mohists, like the existence of the Carvaka school of Indian philosophy, kiiiinda disproves that “well, they did the best they could for the time in which they lived.” Empiricism and rationalism did well enough in the last millennium BCE that we still know the names of major philosophical schools and philosophers that led them; they just weren’t expedient to authority, and so other schools, like Legalism and Confucianism, were preferred.

So Taoism sucks on its own merits, and on purely instrumental ones. Plus, in the form it persisted--with extremely hit-or-miss-or-downright-dangerous medical and alchemical speculation bolted on to it, full of supernaturalism--I think it’s fair to say that it has probably caused more harm than good in the millennia since. The best you can say about alternative medicine out of the Taoist school is that the placebo effect is a thing, I guess; but considering there is an entire Wikipedia page devoted to how Chinese alchemists have poisoned themselves to death, and that Taoist alchemists had to come up with a variety of excuses to explain how their immortality elixirs were supposed to work when the alchemist in question was lying dead on the floor, I am gonna say tentatively that the harms outweigh the benefits here.

Vodoun and its new world relatives does not seem especially worse than your bog-standard traditional oracular mysticism-cum-supernaturalism, but it also doesn’t seem any better.

Also AFAICT (I welcome correct on this point) every religion in this ask and in the other one fails the basic test of “is slavery OK” and “is homosexuality OK”, except for maybe Taoism and homosexuality. Though some obviously fail these tests harder than others. Special mention to Norse Paganism, which--as much as I love the ancient Norse--is just terrible.

#and by 'fails the basic test of'#i mean slavery or its equivalent by another name has been endemic #where this religion has been practiced #and the general opinion of this religion #has been anti-homosexuality in the recent past #injygo

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girlmeetsliv3 · 6 years ago

Text

Head Over Heels

Killing Me Softly Sequel!

Yandere Hoseok x Reader ; BTS Member x Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4,076

Release Date: December 5th, 2019 @ 12 am (GMT-4)

Three years. It took three years for some semblance of normality to return to your life. It took three years for you to begin to see the world, not by it's bad but it's good. Three years and you were finally moving on. Three years wasn't enough to stop his obsession. After three years, he was tired of waiting - you would finally be his.

Trigger Warning: The following story contains mentions of manipulation, abuse, harassment, and child k*dnapping. The behavior and mindset of the characters in this will be incredibly yandere and toxic. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

Hoseok's fingertips trailed soothingly across your bareback, as the two of you gazed into the cityscape visible through the large windows. The silk sheets that covered your naked bodies provided little warmth but eased your anxieties about what your body might look like. Hoseok turned his head toward you, but you chose to ignore it, focusing on staring outside. Things were calm and pleasant. A drastic change from a few hours ago, but you welcomed it. "Did I hurt you?" Hoseok whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. You shook your head and leaned further into his embrace. "It was perfect."

Hoseok chuckled and moved you so your head would be tucked under his chin. "You were perfect, Y/n." You were grateful that he couldn't see your reddened cheeks or the grin that had quickly spread across your face, but you were sure he sensed them. In moments such as these that are so serene and full of joy, one can't help but think the happiest of thoughts. Ones that fill you up with joy, and this feeling of invincibility, they make you believe that anything is possible - that anything can be achieved. Those happy thoughts can cause great moments of joy, but they are not without consequence. Especially if one doesn't take into account the gravity of their words. It couldn't be helped that in a moment as beautiful as this, images slipped into your mind: images of Hoseok and you together forever as a large family in a tiny house. It was all supposed to be a harmless delusion - the fleeting dream that one might conjure up in a passionate moment with a lover. Even though you and Hoseok weren't lovers - technically.

Still, it didn't hurt to dream. "What are you thinking of, Jagi?" Hoseok asked his fingers on your back stilling. He was sure to have his eyebrow cocked in the way he did whenever he asked a question. "About us." Your tone was light, too caught up in your daydream to notice the change in Hoseok. "What about us?" His words were chosen carefully as if he were threading over thin ice. Even his breathing had shallowed, a sign of his nerves. Maybe you made a mistake that night, answering his question. Perhaps you should've changed the subject or pretended your thoughts laid elsewhere. You turned around to face Hoseok, noticing the slight frown in between his brows, and you softly smiled.

"How I want us to be together forever. No matter what." You knew that statement could potentially scare him off, you had only known him for two months, but everything felt so right with Hoseok. It was a glimmer in his eye, and the way his hold on you tightened significantly that should have warned you that Hoseok had taken the words to heart. This wasn't a mindless pillow talk to him; it was a declaration. "I agree." Was all he said. You turned back around and lay your head on his chest, snuggling into him for some warmth. Your eyelids were beginning to become substantial, your eyes fluttering shut every so often until you finally succumbed and closed your eyes. Falling asleep to the rhythmic sound of Hoseok breathing.

"I'll always be with you, Jagi. No matter what."

You didn't hate your job, but it did want to make you tear the hair from your scalp several times a day - some days more than others. You had managed to work yourself up to a management position, which was supposed to mean fewer hours, but whenever someone in your office decided to be incompetent, you were left to deal with the consequences. Like today when Yeri had abruptly taken a day off right before the monthly evaluation meeting and forgot to send you the presentation and documents which you would have to present to the CEO. Usually, this wouldn't have been a problem if you hadn't found out forty-five minutes before the meeting. Not to mention you were supposed to leave early today, Sun-Hi had a doctor's appointment, and you couldn't afford to be late. Thankfully the daycare you had placed her in was only a ten-minute drive from your workplace.

The clock on your car's dashboard read ten twenty-seven am. With luck, you would be able to make it to the appointment by eleven. Maybe I’ll take Sun-Hi out to lunch? It was preferable to going home and attempting to cook dinner. The bright colors of the daycare stood in contrast to the copper and steels of Seoul's architecture, but it was a welcome change. You pulled into the parking lot of the building, quickly gathering your stuff before racing towards the entrance and front desk. It was a new receptionist this time, one you didn't recognize, but you hoped she wouldn't take too long. "Hello, what can I help you with?" She must've been around your age, but her sweet smile and bright eyes let you know that she still hadn't lost her naivety - lucky. "I'm here to pick up my daughter Sun-Hi, we have a doctor's appointment." The girl smiled, typing her name into the computer. After a couple seconds, the smile faded from her face and was replaced with a frown. "I'm sorry, but it says she's already been picked up," she further leaned into the computer, eyes skimming the text. "It says here she left early for an appointment...and her father picked her up.”

"So, what do you think of it?" Hoseok had insisted on stopping by your cramped apartment during finals week. He had dragged you outside, insisting that if you didn't take a break from studying, your head might combust. You didn't exactly believe his words, no matter how much he swore they were real, but you did need a break. Plus, any excuse to spend time with Hoseok was a good one. He had practically kidnapped you, forcing you into his car and driving for almost an hour before showing you his "hideout." A quaint beach hidden between forestry and rocks. Where despite the gray morning sky, the sea and sand glimmered. "It's nice." You muttered, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. The air had gotten colder, the beginnings of winter making themselves evident. "I've always loved it here. Used to visit when I was younger to get away from it all." Hoseok rarely spoke about his past, even if the two of you were close. There was always a sort of barrier between the two of you. One that only seemed to weaken around his friends, or in moments such as these.

Hoseok sat down on the large blanket he had brought, dusting off what little sand got onto it. He patted the empty space to his left, indicating he wanted you to sit with him. Once you did, he wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you in a warm hug. "Are you cold?" He asked as he felt you shivering. "A bit." you chuckled before leaning further into him. The two of you remained silent for quite a while, basking in the refreshing scent and lulling sound of the waves crashing into the shore. You tilted your head up to look at him, mesmerized by how someone could be so beautiful and kind. Though the relationship between the two of you was a transactional one, it never felt like that. You felt like he loved you, even if he had never directly said the words. When the others gave you presents or attention, it felt like compensation, a 'thank you for your services' kind of thing. Whenever Hoseok did it if felt like it was a way for him to show his admiration towards you. Who knows? Maybe you were just a fool, falling for a rich man with sweet words.

"You're staring." He smirked, not even bothering to look down at you. "I'm gazing." You retorted, smiling a bit. "It's creepy," Hoseok said, rolling his eyes. A small scoff left your lips, "It's romantic." One of his hands crept up your face, covering your eyes. Both of you burst into laughter as you tried to uncover your eyes when you finally did Hoseok pressed a chaste kiss against your lips. "No fair." You whined, lips pouting somewhat exaggeratedly. You pretended to try to escape Hoseok's hold, but his grip tightened, and he pulled you tautly against him. "Life isn't fair," Hoseok said as he pressed another kiss to your lips. "You're not getting away from me, darling. No matter what."

“And you’ve had no contact with any of them since the trial, correct?” Officer Park asked, the two police officers standing in the middle of your living room. "No, I haven't! You know this. How many times am I going to have to say this?!" You were exasperated, the snot-filled tissues clenched in your hand, and reddened cheeks a clear sign of it. After causing quite a show at the daycare, you had called Investigator Lee only to be told that he was out of town. Park shot his partner a look before crouching down in front of you, the case you had been involved in was infamous: seven of Korea's most prominent businessmen and figureheads all involved in a kidnapping and love affair that looked like something straight out of a drama. Your name had been changed to ensure your security, but that didn't mean that judgment hadn't followed you everywhere you went. Even now, in your own home, you could see the way the officer's side-eyed you. "I understand why you're reacting like this, Miss, but rest assured we will do everything in our power to locate your daughter and ensure her wellbeing." Inspector Park stood above your hunched over the figure, while his partner stood in the corner with harsh judgment in his eyes. "For the time being, please refrain from speaking to anyone about this. We will try to interview the men and see if they know anything." Yeah, right, like you were going to listen to that.

Gangnam's correctional facility was on the outskirts of town, barely classifying as Seoul but housing enough prominent individuals to bear that name. You had been sitting outside in your car for over thirty-minutes debating whether or not to come in. Whether or not to see any of them again after everything that had happened. The desire to locate your daughter had outweighed any sense of fear or survival instinct that willed you to drive away and forget the men. Taking a deep breath, you stepped out and stared at the bleak concrete structure, it's red bricks standing out against the desolate surrounding area. You noticed that some guards were staring at you, so you began to walk towards the front, trying to ignore their peering eyes. The prison was a long stretch of red brick and concrete; it was perhaps three floors high, including the ground-floor. There were small windows all along the length of it, and it was quite a distance away. That was because there was a large front yard area for inmates almost enclosed with high fencing, the tops covered in barbed wire with signs along the lengths warning that the fencing was live and that touching it could result in electrocution and possible death. Between the yard and where you currently stood, there was another building, a smaller building. This one was ground-floor only, and it was the entrance to the prison.

Visitors would be checked and searched within that building. Two other buildings were flanking each side of the prison, one in which there was an infirmary and presumably solitary confinement of sorts. The other contained a large visitation room and other things that you had yet to see while inside. Lastly, in two of the corners around the prison, there were tall towers on which guards would stay and watch everything from above. There were massive alarm systems stuck to the sides, and you briefly wondered what the siren would sound like before you dragged your eyes away. It was an imposing building, that much was sure, and the cold waves coming off it seemed to permeate and chill you down to your very bones.

"Who are you here to see?" The guard asked, his voice being slightly muted through the glass pane. You took a deep breath, "Jeon Jungkook." You handed over your id and emptied out your pockets before you were patted down. The walk through the aisle was uncomfortable, to say the least, inmates lined their cells peering down to catch a look. You couldn't help glancing up, trying to meet any of the six familiar pairs of eyes - not knowing whether to feel gratitude or regret when you were unsuccessful. The interview room was vacant, with only you in a room lined with glass, chairs, and black phones. You chose to sit in the third chair, deeming a reasonable distance, though what you measured you didn't know. It was a few minutes until the other room's door was open, Jungkook stepping forward while a guard lingered behind. His hands were handcuffed in front of him, and even though the white jumpsuit, you could see the way his muscles flexed. He had gotten more significant, if that were possible, not having much to do except workout after being locked up for so long. Jungkook seemed disinterested until he glanced up, and his eyes met yours.

Jungkook began to laugh, a childlike glee filling his eyes; beneath that, however, you could see the swirl of wrath and regret. The guard uncuffed him and whispered something to him, possibly telling him to behave or the amount of time they had. Jungkook walked to the third chair and sat down, his eyes slowly trailed down your body. Now up close, his features had aged and hardened, but they remained with a youthful glow that sadly you had lost. Not wanting to waste any more time, you picked up the phone beside you holding it up to your ear. Jungkook smirked, leaning back in the chair as he continued to stare at you. Clearly, he had no intention of picking up the phone, at least not anytime soon. Even now, he still found ways to torment you. "Please." you mouthed, hand coming up to rest on the glass. It had been years, but people didn't change that much, and you knew that you still meant something to them. Jungkook played along, his palm coming up to meet yours. Maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, but you swore you felt some of his heat come through the thick bulletproof glass. Finally, he picked up the phone.

“Long time no see, Y/n.” His lips curved slightly upward.

“...Hi Jungkook.”

"Aren't you going to ask how I've been?" Jungkook teased, leaning forward. When you refused to, he answered anyway. "I've been good, you know. I didn't think I would ever fit the prison life, but it isn't too bad - at least I don't have a long time left." Your eyes widened, shock evident in the way the phone between your hand trembled, "What? But I thought -" Jungkook chuckled, "Didn't they tell you about the appeals? All our sentences got decreased, not to mention all of us have been on our best behavior." He emphasized by making quotations with his fingers. You wouldn't believe the cruel hand fate had dealt you with as if once wasn't enough. You opened your mouth to speak, but you were unsure of what to say. What would work? What would make the men give up on you?

“Jimin’s already out. I’m sure he’s planning on coming to visit you soon.”

With those few words, Jungkook had robbed you of your breath. You had been so sure it was Hoseok, but if Jimin was out, that means he might know about Sun-Hi. If he knows that means… Your eyes trailed up to see Jungkook smiling sadistically, madness in his eyes. Maybe he didn't know. Perhaps he did. All that mattered to you now was finding your daughter. Along with making sure to protect her from her father, even if it cost you your life.

"Have you thought about what you want to do for the rest of your life?" You asked him as you turned around. A small giggle escaping your lips when you noticed that he had been staring at you this whole time. "I'm looking at her right now." Rolling your eyes, you playfully hit his shoulder. "I'm serious." Jimin pouted, "As am I." His arms wrapped around you and pull you towards him, the book on his chest long forgotten. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you." It was a cute thought, one that caused blood to rush towards your cheeks.

"Why do you always say such corny things?" You accused him, as you hid your face in his neck. Jimin could only laugh, "Someone has to." Then he lowered himself until the two of you were at eye level on the soft carpet floor. Jimin's hands combed softly through your hair before cupping your face. There was a faint glow in his eyes, almost like golden flecks that danced in the light. Jimin looked like an angel that had fallen from heaven. Slowly you leaned in to brush your lips along his, but the sound of a phone ringing interrupted you. You had forgotten to turn off your phone.

"What is that?" All the joy had disappeared from his voice. "How many times do I have to tell you to turn off your fucking phone?!" In the blink of an eye, Jimin had crossed the room to where your bag was. He took the leather bag in his hand, combing through it until he located the mobile device. "Jimin… I'm sorry. It's almost out of battery, so I thought it would die out." He wasn't listening, or he didn't care to. Jimin smiled, turning around to face you, the phone in his hand. "You know I've told you that I hate this phone. It's so old. How do you think it reflects on us if you're walking around with a dinosaur for a cellphone." When you didn't answer, it only made him more upset. Even if it was clear, his statement was rhetorical.

"Don't worry, I preordered the newest model. Think of it as a gift." The phone between Jimin's stiff fingers slipped - or that's what he claimed hours later once he had calmed down - to you, it looked more like he slammed the fragile device with all his force against his marble table. It didn't matter. No point in bringing it up, you had a new phone, and Jimin was happy. That's all that mattered.

The ringing was what woke you up. It had already been over six hours, the news had yet to be dispatched, but so far the police had no luck in locating your daughter or a single trace of Jung Hoseok or Park Jimin. When the police visited the prison to interview the other five men, they'd been notified of your visit. To say they were displeased would be an understatement; the two officers insisted that your involvement would only slow down the process of the investigation. All you could think about was how audacious one must be to tell the mother of a lost child to "relax and destress."

The phone on the nightstand next to you shined a bright blue. The caller identification stating 'foreign.' It couldn't be your family, investigator Park had warned that contacting your family might not be helpful as it could cause an intense commotion. They'd be the last person you would tell: your family had shut you out after what had happened three years ago. Not that you blamed them, no one wanted an 'escort' for a daughter. Hesitantly you answered the phone, placing it next to your ear.

"Hi, mommy."

You leaped off the bed, "Sun-Hi. Oh my god. Are you okay? Sweetheart, are you hurt?" Tears were spilling from your eyes as you rushed to the living room to find Investigator Park's number that was on the card they'd given you.

"I'm fine, Mommy. Daddy says not to call the police."

You froze. "Da-daddy? Is he there can I speak to Daddy?"

There was slight static in the background, so you couldn't make out the voices. Only your daughter's soft tone when she returned, "No. Sorry." A dry sob escaped your throat, "Sun-Hi. Baby, please. Tell me where you are." Your daughter didn't respond; there was only more background noise until "I'm sorry, Mommy. I have to go." No. "No!" The call ended, and with it, you collapsed onto the floor. Your knees coming up to your chest as you rock yourself back and forth. Desperation began to fill you as a single thought settled back into your mind: it isn't over. Their game. It's just started.

Sun-Hi played with the monster truck until she had just about crashed it into everything and quickly become bored. Then she decided to explore her room once again. Daddy had said that everything inside was either bought by him or her uncles. It was beautiful and distracted her for a bit, but she missed Mommy. She wanted her mommy. It was only after throwing a tantrum and screaming for a while, that Daddy finally let her talk to Mommy. Mommy sounded upset, but Daddy said that soon she would join them, and they would be happy together. All of them.

"Sun-Hi." His voice called out, a sing-song tone to it. When he peered his head through the door, she burst out into giggles. "Oh, my baby. You're so adorable." He cried, running over to her and lifting her up into his arms. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, in awe of how he and you had ever managed to create such a beautiful creature. In the corner of the room, next to Sun-Hi's bed was a nightstand with a framed picture of him and you in it. Taken on that oh so fateful day. "Good news, sweetheart. Mommy's coming to meet us soon…" His voice trailed off as he looked deeply into his daughter's eyes. As he gazed into them, he saw your eyes staring back at him. The ones that used to gaze at him with so much love and fear. For a fraction of a second, he felt guilty at the damage he might be causing; how much pain he might be inflicting onto you, all because of some deep-rooted need. However, that sentiment didn't last very long.

Sun-Hi was a reflection of the love he and you had, he would be damned if anything stopped him now after having waited such a long time. He would have you now. The world is damned.

The last thing you knew you had passed out on the living room floor. After the call, you had suffered a panic attack that left you hyperventilating so much the lack of oxygen triggered a 'reset' switch to go off in your brain. Knocking you unconscious. Your mind likely needed such a thing after all the stress it had to undergo in twenty-four hours. The former, of which would look like a stroll to the park, considering what you had to face next. It wasn't until you tried to move and felt the tight cord digging into your flesh that you realized you were tied up. Looking around, you realized that you were still very much in your house - the bedroom, to be exact. Even it didn't paint a pretty picture that you were curled up with your wrists and ankles tied together. It left you in an uncomfortable position that at best only allowed you to roll over and off the bed, but didn't allow for much else. In the corner of the room, a shadow moved before it seemingly melted back into the wall. You weren't easily deceived.

"Who's there?" You called out, knowing that the person wouldn't necessarily answer, but hoping to elicit some type of reaction. That way, you could narrow down who it could be - even if there really were only two contenders. "Who do you want it to be?" Spoke his angelic voice, before he stepped out into the moonlight - a maniacal grin on his face.

"How I've missed you, darling."

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