#ive been working on ocs a lot more lately i think i might actually start writing something

[casual-fishlord]

FINALLY FINISHED IT!!

full redesign of my old ocs from a story that i made when i was 12

it was called the Uriors(universe+warriors)(keeping the name, definitely gonna spell it definitely xD)

sooo the original plot was basically this: a normal 14 yo girl becomes the leader of a magical girl team, where all the other members are cosmic deities.

i spent a lot of time on this story for a few years, but than abandoned it cuz i just couldnt make it work. i wanted to make it sort of a chill slice of life with a monster of the week type story, but it just didnt work cuz all the main characters could oneshot any threat and didnt have any reason to spend free time with a mortal.

ive been thinking a lot about this story lately, and i kinda realized just how much potential it has for psychological, cosmic, and body horror. and i think i can make the characters work now xD so i started rewriting it

plot synopsis so far:

mc finds a magical amulet and gets hired into the magical girl company called Yuriors. the company runs on merch sales and donations, so the members have to stay popular&relevant (thats why they look like cute girls). they fight monsters and help with politics on smaller planets. they cant just oneshot the monsters cuz its not entertaining for the public. the company is unethical, and half of the members are downright evil. the story is mostly just about them becoming friends and committing atrocities together. and about wars between space gods.

heres a lil info on the characters:

name: Mia Cat (she/her), age:14, sweet, kind, about to be traumatized

name: Bisqa (she/her) age:???, allegedly lost all her memories 11 years ago. has very high expectations put on her

name: Pearlescence the Devourer (they/them) age: about 18k, comes to company meetings higher than the stars

name: Onguh (she/it), age: about 13k, loudest and most annoying of the group, but is actually the weakest cuz she cant use magic. generally annoying to most people

name: Sex Buttouski (he/she), age: 536, chose this name as a form of rebellion

name: Varbara (she/they), age: about 23k, acts like the mother of the group, does tell much about herself

really proud of how these turned out. i might still tweak the designs a bit, and i definitely need to work on the characters a lot more. except to see more art of these bitchez

[vonkarma2]

🍒🧡🍇 for the oc ask meme

Before I start I want to say sorry for taking a while to get to these :P Ive been pretty busy recently but yeah I am going to finish the other ones people sent in dw

What kind of things do they expect from their relationships? Does this differ between platonic relationships and romantic ones? Is your OC “demanding” or a door mat? What kinds of things do people expect from them in a relationship?

Francisco is like a prince, right, and there’s nothing people would particularly hold against him. So I wouldn’t say straight up entitled to the point where he abuses his power *but* I do think he like expects to be treated very respectfully so if people are rude or even indifferent to him he’s like ??? Wtf. Confused and gets indignant easily, not because he doesn’t think they’re giving him the respect he’s owed as royalty, but because his standards are so skewed he expects everyone to be nice and polite and accommodating all the time and is surprised when they aren’t. Not argumentative or demanding abt it but he gets kind of incensed. I don’t think he asks for much usually though, like he would Want to be independent and do things on his own rather than asking/forcing people to do them for him. 

That’s mostly in platonic relationships or when interacting with people he barely knows. I think romantically he tends to be more understanding, I don’t think he’d be particularly bad at communicating with people he does respect. I actually think in a relationship he’d be looking for a challenge, like as in someone who’s willing to go against him and has a different perspective on the world than he does. I feel like he’d enjoy arguing over philosophies or like inconsequential things, like not fighting and getting angry but like talking through things or whatever. 

As for what’s expected from him… probably some level of politeness and dignity, but I feel like he has a good reputation (as honorable, responsible, respectful, a good son, etc)so he can get away with a lot. Probably also like devotion to his country/the monarchy above all else.

Who is your OC’s favourite person? Why is this person the top of their list and have they actually met them (an idol or rolemodel or celeb can be someone’s favourite after all!).

I’m gna cop out here and only go with characters we’ve already established to have strong relationships rather than making up like friends or family or significant others for people. 

I think Claudia’s favorite person is ofc Irene. She has to an extent fallen for the front of like a super courageous and honorable person she puts up, but she also genuinely does know how   she gets ummm I guess depressed and miserable or whatever? Like she’s not a machine she gets tired and makes mistakes but that kind of makes her appreciate her more. She appreciates how she’s supportive and respectful and has faith in her abilities. She likes her a lot because she’s the only person she feels like she actually has a meaningful relationship with in spite of the like spy fake identity lying to everyone situation. This is in part bc of their backstory where they like saved each other’s lives and kept each other going when they otherwise might have given up and like frozen or starved or whatever to death.

She’s someone she likes so much it makes her wish for peace even more, or at least like in a more personal way. I think we should work more on what their dynamic is/was like though that might be fun. 

Day or Night? Sun or Rain? Summer or Winter?

Irene I think would be associated with primarily night. I don’t know how captaining a ship works but I think it would be cool if you usually had to stay up late at night to make sure nothing went wrong/you’re available to take charge immediately. I think she’d also be like, kept up at night by whatever anxieties or worries she’s currently concerned about anyway. Stoically masculine in that way. Staring out mysteriously to sea in the middle of the night or whatever.

Also I think she’d be more associated with sun, I was thinking like bright sun reflecting off snow + ice in a really cold environment, like enough to be blinding. This is bc of like all the scenes from when she was at war Im thinking of as like well-lot and during the day but still awful like them being in the middle of a nice day makes them more horrifying.

And finally I think she would be more associated with winter, for obvious reasons.

[midori-laboratories]

Ashes In The Fall - Chapter 3: Resettlement IV

Book 2 of the Calendula Chronicles

Resident evil, Wesker X OC

Story Summary: Marigold Ashford escaped the mansion, only to face new incarceration with a familiar jailor. She may yet have to make a deal with the devil, if she can unearth what this Faustian bargain would cost her.

There is always something left to lose.

Chapter summary: Marigold blows off some steam, has a bit of a think, and rediscovers boundaries.

64.media.tumblr.com

The gym was small, approximately the size of a classroom. Mats lined the floors across an open area in the front half of the space, while equipment - weights, benches, a couple of treadmills, a stationary bicycle- took up the rest of the space. There was a light layer of dust on the weights, but the rest of it looked clean. Marigold breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of a stack of towels and spray bottles; managing the contamination of her surroundings was too deeply ingrained.

Alexander had had a treadmill shipped to her home one year, although she had rarely used it. There had been trails all over the grounds, gardens, and woods, and a little brook passing through it. It had been one of the little pleasures she had, where she truly relaxed. If she tried to run like that on this, she’d likely break the bloody thing.

Wesker cleared his throat behind her. “I don’t suppose you have any sparring training? I got used to it for a while. Now…it’s less than ideal. It might be a means of calibrating strength.”

Hard to find a partner he wouldn’t break, most likely. “What with your hand-raised team going off to slaughter, I imagine it’s even harder to find partners for that. I gauged mine quite nicely when I arrived here, thanks.” Marigold forced back the edge in her tone. Experienced or not, she was still a civilian. Physical confrontation hadn’t gone well for her in the past so far. “You’re breaking a lot of doorknobs now, aren’t you.”

Wesker didn’t answer, though he stepped around her to slowly circle around. Prowling, almost.

After a moment’s stand-off, she stepped around, wrapping her arms around herself defensively. “No. I watched things in films and tried to work out the mechanics on my own. Actual practice with other people would have caused… problems.” She grimaced. The few times where she had used even a fraction of her strength on other people had been…unpleasant. For everyone involved. “I try not to touch people, as a rule. Distance has always been better in most situations.” Stepping around Wesker, she looked away. “I’m already getting far more input than before. The external viral vector is enough to pile on the rest of it.” She rubbed at the side of her nose. That had been him, tracking her through the forest to that little truck stop diner. There was no use pretending otherwise.

She missed her gloves.

“This should be fine,” she made herself say, walking quickly over to the treadmill. This conversation was veering into uncomfortable territory. She didn’t need to prolong it by asking for shoes. Back home, she often hadn’t bothered with them on her own lands, away from prying eyes.

The controls were easy enough. After a moment’s fiddling with the speed settings, she settled into her normal running gait. Even without the actual mobility, running helped ease Marigold’s nerves. It always had, ever since she had started her late sojourns through the moors back home.

Marigold began to let her mind drift as she fell into a rhythm. She thought back to the hurried conversation over the telephone with Alfred, just before seeking out Ada Wong for passage from the city: “The company won’t matter for long. She...we made a plan. You’ll see.” He didn’t actually answer the question when she asked if Alexander and Alexia were truly gone, she thought.

Could it be possible?

And why was Wesker keeping her here? To what end? She was useless as a test subject, given her stable virus, and belligerence towards the company at the end.

Useless.

As a research subject.

They had struggled with the pure virus for years before tweaking it to create ghouls rather than corpses. And...golems? She thought of the beasts in the mansion lab, guarding and moving their heavy burdens. Why was a Soviet soldier behind the evacuation of the other creatures? The entire experience had the fantastical grotesque sheen of a Goya painting. Had this been the end goal for Umbrella all along?

Yes. Yes. It had always been. Her little incident in the Balkans, back in ‘72, should have been enough to see how bad things could get. Now, it seemed, it was obvious that she had lacked imagination.

And…Everett had told her that Wesker had gone into intelligence years before. And here he was now, officially dead and changed into something that felt fundamentally different to her. She thought back to the woods, that feeling of anticipatory stillness bearing down on her. She felt it now.

He was still hunting her.

As a research subject, useless...maybe. As an intelligence asset....or even as leverage?

She cast her mind over the last few days. She didn’t think she had given away much but it was hard to say. Once again Marigold cursed herself for the recklessness of going to Arklay in the first place, of hopping into Ada Wong’s car only to disappear into yet another lab. Nothing jumped out at her but...it had only been a few days.

She had difficulty remembering the hazy days after her capture - something with Spencer’s voice on a speaker, a woman’s kind voice monitoring her vitals, and the voice of a very frightened woman calling for her mother somewhere in the background- but there likely wasn’t anything new.

Did he know how easily she had passed through the woods?

She had stopped running, and the treadmill had powered down in response. She paused, then stepped absently off the machine as thoughts crowded in.

She’d been going without a clear plan since waking up in the mansion. At most, she had been scouting, divesting information and evidence of her identity as quickly as she could shed them. That needed to change fast, even if it was only to determine where it was she stood now. She needed to figure out her priorities.

One, and most immediate: Protect her vulnerable outside links. Everett. Rebecca, with her biochemical knowledge, and the precious little vial of blood left to her following their talk. They were likely in the most danger now.

Two: Protect her family. Whose collective fate was ambiguous at best. Alfred seemed secure in his position at Rockfort, but whether that was an accurate picture of the situation was murky at best.

It wasn’t much of a plan. She was still playing defense, as much as ever, without clear aims. The field she was playing on, however, had drastically changed.

Weaker was playing his own game, like her. Umbrella thought him dead. To what ends?

And here she was, confined but kept comfortable, until...what? Confession? Her infection had never been replicated, not in the original strain. A dead end.

Collaboration? She had so many questions. The predatory feeling that emanated from Wesker hung over her senses like a shroud. When they had met earlier that week for the blood draw, her bluster had slowly withered and died on the vine.

When she finally found her voice, she didn’t dare turn around. “I don’t suppose there’s a decent caber toss spot around here?” The summer of 1971 had been a fun season for her, although a bewildering one for the staff at the manor.

“I don’t think they added it to the facility’s blueprints, no. I’ll see if there’s something suitable.

“I can improvise.” Marigold finally turned to face him, taking a good look at him now. He’d been young back then, tall, a little reedy. Reasonably good-looking in that bland, polished way that seemed like a factory setting for the sons of the upper class. But he’d stepped away from research to something in intelligence, (which sounded like the military to her. STARS had a paramilitary ring to it) and it showed.

“Yes, that’s quite obvious by now,” he replied, deadpan.

“Oh, the man who’s been fake dead for a week is sarcastic. I’m sure being housebound is quite the burden for you.” She paused. “Did Ivan leave that last little beastie at the lab just for you, then?”

He blinked at her, then laughed. It was.. less unnatural a sound than she would have thought. “Ah, of course. Sixteen years of missing time. You don’t even know the Cold War ended, do you. Umbrella swept up a lot of military installations when that happened. Your nephew trains most of them, you know.”

She went cold at that. “I don’t.” No use denying something she didn’t know herself. “You didn’t answer the question.”

He began to advance on her, slowly., the way one might approach a skittish horse they planned to break. “Not specifically. Sergei’s a favorite foot soldier of Spencer’s. We disagree on some of the fundamentals of Spencer’s...philosophical views, let’s say. The video feed of you slipping away behind his back was a decent enough consolation prize, as it were....'Ivan' is actually the name of the guard that let you slip away, incidentally.”

He was getting closer. Proximity was...not her friend in this situation. Whatever suppressants were left in her system might be enough to stave off the worst, her body had other ways to betray her.

She started to circle around in turn, trying to maintain distance to avoid being cornered. “Consolation? How so?” The scent was strong here. In the lab, the exchange had been mild, it had been mild-mannered, and she could distract herself with the data collection work. Here...that luxury was gone here.

“Try to hit me.”

“What? I told you. That boundary is there for a reason.”

“Try. I’ve seen what you can do to walls - the staff appreciates that there hasn’t been a repeat of that here, by the way, whether they know it or not.”

Something in the understated taunting of his words brushed against her straining temper, pulled taut, and snapped. Marigold lunged forward and spun into him to deliver an elbow to the solar plexus. Just because she couldn’t afford to spar didn’t mean that she hadn’t picked up some forms for ending a fight fast. He own form was poor, but in her case, she could generally make up for it in sheer power.

Except Wesker was no longer there. Not even bothering to use the terrifying speed he’d demonstrated before, he grabbed her arm above the elbow and spun her out towards the wall. Landing hard, she rolled back to her feet and waited in a crouch, face furious. “Again.”

The next strike was caught at full force, with a strained grunt. Letting go, she stumbled past him, confused. “What are you doing,” she demanded. He stalked towards her in response, this time blurring past her, pinning her arms to her sides from behind. “Good. The impulse control is amateur, but for a civilian...good.” She could feel his breath in her ear, and the contact made her shiver. A low whine can from her throat, unbidden. His grip tightened.

In the forest outside Racoon City, the day after Clemens had released her, she had been half herself and half pushing outward; there had been a sense of being submerged. Reaching, rippling outward, a tsunami crashing and repelling other remnants of minds touched by the T-virus. Now it was the opposite. A void space opened, and the inevitable crash of the wave back inward, to the sea.

Give in

The next few seconds were blank. Gone. Only the wave remained.

And crashed back down with the sensation of her back slamming against the wall, lips and teeth skimming against her throat, hands firmly pinning her wrists to either side of her head. Her body shivered violently, writhing under the sudden torrent of heat, and of pressure. Wesker had wedged a knee is wedged between hers; she was all but riding his thigh. She was panting again, high whining gasps.

I blacked out?

And all of a sudden, the tension snapped back out. Wesker froze against her throat. He released her arms, stepping back to allow her to scuttle sideways a few steps.

I blacked out

Blackouts were new. This was a new thing that had kicked through her iron grip on herself, hard-won and harder fought.

She was furious. And not a little ashamed that she had lost control.

“Control is probably the only thing I do have.” Marigold snapped. She couldn’t meet his eyes. “At least, I thought I did. This has been quite enough for one day.” She turned to stalk back towards her room.

[jessehuang52]

vague ocs

[flowerwrites06]

break my mind’s eye IX — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Parts: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Special 

Word Count: 9k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings (for entire series): drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution, miscarriage, lots of manipulation, impregnation through manipulation 

Three Months Later

In the deep quiet hour of the night, Belles’ stomach jolted her awake to a dark room. For a moment, when her bearings were not quite right, fear settled as if she transported to a strange place. Quickly turning her gaze there laid Jungkook with his back facing up and an arm around her torso. For the first time she let out a sigh of relief seeing the man’s face knowing that her location was at least familiar.

It became all too familiar now. Yoongi pretty much moved in as their own private medic despite his knowledge on medicine being phoned advice from an actual doctor. Belle did not protest however, having the male close by helped dealing with these past few months. Nausea every single morning, cramps in every single place that had the potential to do so while a lingering worry that she would have to see her child grow up in a world full of betrayal and pain.

Right now her stomach grumbled for a different reason. Looking down, Belle could slowly notice a more prominent swell poking out from her white cotton night gown with Jungkooks’ toned arm gently over it as if to shield it somehow. Once again she felt a rumble and the thought of chocolates brushed her mind.

“Jungkook…” Belle whispered, squeezing his arm a little. When the male didn’t respond she shook him softly. “Jungkook wake up.”

Jungkook shifted with a drawling hum under his breath, one eye opened momentarily before exhaustion pulled him in again and he closed it. “What is it?” He spoke into the pillow.

She slowly pushed herself to a sited position as his loose arm slid onto her thighs. “I want ice-cream.”

“What?” His brows furrowed automatically despite his eyes still comfortably shut.

“What you big boss men never heard of ice-cream?” Belle caressed his forearm which really only helped him fall asleep more.

With a light groan, Jungkook moved his arms to prop himself up enough for both his eyes to open and scan the room. Turning around he glanced over to check the time on the phone. “Baby, it’s 2 in the morning.” He mumbled attempting to meet her gaze but sleep was even more stubborn, most of his curls either sticking to his face or up to the ceiling.

Hand caressed over her swollen belly with a slight pout across her lips. “There’s late night ice-cream parlors.” Belle muttered under her breath without giving him a glance.

Jungkooks’ eyes immediately flickered down to where she affectionately brushed over her cute belly. Clearly it was not only her cravings he had been stirred awake to satisfy. Sighing, he forced himself to sit up properly as one of his hands attempted to brush his hair down. “Alright…”

Belle couldn’t help the accomplished smirk tugged at her lips as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed to walk to the wardrobe. Although the slight heaviness caused more of a waddle than a proper walk. “Make sure to wear your mask, it’s cold.” And their faces were all too recognizable nowadays especially after the wedding. Three months had already gone by but it made more relevant than ever in the media making it harder to keep this pregnancy as secret as possible.

He hummed in agreement tapping a name on his phone before pressing it to his ear. “Jongho, put in the address of the closest late night ice cream parlor in the sedan.” Jungkooks’ voice still rung raspy from sleep as his hand rubbed his eyes to make himself more alert.

“A-I’m sorry could you repeat that sir?” Jongho asked politely, stammering a little.

“The closest late night ice-cream parlor.” He enunciated his words as dramatically yet clearly as he could.

“An–an ice-cream parlor?”

“Yeah you never heard of an ice-cream parlor before?”

Jongho cleared his throat lightly. “Yes, sir sorry I’ll—I’ll bring the car in right away.”

Belle pushed the sleeves off her shoulder, letting the gown easily drop to the ground leaving her in the slight cold air. Eyes quickly settled on any piece of comfortable warm clothing she could find. Grey sweat pants, loose T-shirt and a soft pink hoodie which let her body relish back into the embrace of heat.

Jungkook walked into the wardrobe squinting in the bright light, pausing in his tracks for a moment as he watched Belle put on a pink mask that pleasantly matched her hoodie. The corner of his lips twitched up looking at how much more comfortable she looked, possibly even more than she did in the night gown. Rare it was to see Belle in such a relaxed state when the woman spent most of her days looking perfectly presentable.

Making his way to corner, he quickly pulled on some black sweatpants with a hoodie and mask while noticing Belle tapping on a moisturizer on her skin with her mask hugging the underside of her chin. “Trying to look pretty for the ice cream?” Jungkook mused.

“You saying I don’t look pretty already, Mr. Jeon?”

“Positively glowing.”

“You’re good at flattering, I’ll give you that.” Belle chuckled, exiting the wardrobe towards the main bedroom, her arms automatically hugging her stomach.

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile as he rushed over to her side, placing a hand on the small of her back.

Through the doors of the bedroom, Belle immediately say Nana pad over with the deep red blanket in her arms. “You’re already warmed up.” She chuckled before handing over the thick and small fabric. “It’s a little tradition thing but it was Jungkooks’ when he was a baby. Good to keep over the belly when you leave the house.”

Belle accepted the blanket with a smile, an odd tingle down her spin at the realization of how small Jungkook used to be. A little being full of wonder who smiled at random things before reality destroyed every remnant. “It might be colder outside who knows.” She tried to reassure the older woman somehow.

“Thank you.” Jungkook lightly squeezed her shoulder as they walked past the woman who bowed with a smile in response.

Jongho already stood at the edge of the entrance to the living room, bowing as soon as he saw the couple. “Your car is ready. The drive to the ice-cream parlor will be about fifteen minutes.” He announced though he still felt like this whole thing was part of some prank.

“Thank you, Jongho.” Belle grinned, almost skipping past the guard in glee.

“You know I’m the one driving to the parlor right?” Jungkook sassed, a brow jolting up.

“Well you’re the father, honey, it’s your job.” Belle walked towards the entrance as the guards opened them like some grandiose banquet.

Black sedan shone like a beetle under the moonlight when they reached outside. Crisp nightly air flowed through even their warm clothing except for the blanket Belle hugged around her belly.

Jungkook opened the door for the woman letting her climb in carefully before walking over to his side. It had been a while since he went on a drive for something so leisure and relaxed. He couldn’t help but feel a rush of content maybe even a little excitement at this spontaneous late night trip.

As he sat in the car reacquainting himself with all the controls, Jungkook noticed from the corners of his eye how delicately Belle placed the blanket over her belly as if she was tucking it goodnight.

Then they drove off.

Fifteen minutes stretched out a little longer than Jungkook expected but eventually they saw the pastel and neon lights in the shape of an ice-cream cone hit their area of vision.

Parking closest to the shop, Jungkook hurried over to Belles’ side and helped her walk out.

“I can still climb out of cars.” Belle giggled at how attention he was trying to be.

Jungkook held onto her hand while they walked into the parlor with their masks fully secured.

Bright lights touched their half-sleepy eyes while the blanket hung over her free arm. People continued on their normal conversations without turning their heads in recognition which brought a rush of relief in her body. No one knew about the pregnancy since Belle formed a talent in choosing outfits that hid the growing bump. Of course at some point it would get hard to conceal it.

Jungkook and Belle padded to the counter to choose their flavors. Her eyes and taste buds immediately leaned towards the chocolate while the male simply followed her lead. The man had not enjoyed ice-cream since he was a child when Nana would serve it to him when he was upset usually because both his parents were out to work. He figured chocolate was the best way to start up the taste in his mouth again.

Once the orders were done and they were served ice-cream in cups, they walked to one of the tables in the corner and sat across from each other.

Belle, once again placed the blanket over her belly in the same delicate fashion while her mouth practically watered watching the ice-cream just sit there waiting.

“People really come here at this hour just to have ice-cream?” Jungkook glanced at the couples and friends happily eating ice-cream at their tables as if time stood still within these walls.

She shrugged, scooping her first bite with the tiny neon green spatula. “It’s just fun, I guess. Every now and then to break the rules of regular schedule.” Bringing the spatula up to her mouth, Belle suckled on it letting the sweetness grace her tongue and soothe her cravings little by little.

Jungkook poked at his ice-cream, mostly watching the woman enjoy her order and already feeling full. “Have you done this before?”

“Once.” Belle mumbled. “When I first started at Saito, my boyfriend at the time got really drunk so I took him for ice-cream at 2 am to sober him up.” How strange it was speaking out a past self. Someone who she used to be. A person with her own decisions, who knew her own dreams and aspirations while working hard to gain them. She was a damn fighter.

He pressed his lips together for a moment, bitter taste on his tongue. “What happened between you two?”

“I started making more money than him and he didn’t like it.” Belle replied simply.

Jungkook hummed in a little wonder. “So he was weak.” He scooped up a decent bite, some of his dark curls hovering over his eyebrows.

“Yeah he was.” Belle had a small smile slowly playing on her lips. “Did you have anyone before me?”

He nodded in a slight nonchalant nature. “One. We were going out for about two months.”

“What happened?”

“She was a red angel in Sangria House.” Jungkook admitted. “Someone married her with a huge sum and I just wasn’t ready enough for the commitment at the time.”

“So you’ve never actually gone out with someone in a normal way.” She pointed the neon spoon towards the male before licking the remnants off of it. “Do you even know to how to?”

Jungkook chuckled before shaking his head. “Dating lesson wasn’t really part of my regime when growing up. Marriage and kids, yeah but anything to learn before that kind of got fuzzy.”

Belle tilted her head watching the way his expression turned a little faint, almost borderline sad. It was that burst of a moment where she realized that Jungkook never really had a real childhood or any sense of the matter. Growing up learning nothing but business and building legacy with no sense of true warm compassion and empathy created a good mob boss. Not a good family man. Her hand immediately rubbed over her plump belly once again silently reassuring the growing being that she was going to keep them safe from this mess. “I don’t want our child to feel fuzzy.”

“He won’t.” His tone grew serious now. “I promise he won’t be raised like I was.”

“He?” Belle grinned.

“Or she. Sorry my aunt kept saying ‘he’ on the phone, I think she’s infected me.” He scratched his brow.

“It’s okay. They are okay with girls, right?” Her heart almost jumped out of her chest when the thought crossed her mind.

“Daughters are treated just as well in our family, don’t worry.”

“That’s good. Cause I don’t want her to be raised like I was either.” It was bad enough Belle spent her whole childhood always being told she wasn’t good enough to be like her brother. But the thought of her possible daughter going through it sickened her to the core.

Jungkooks’ fingers absentmindedly played with the hem of Belle’s hoodie sleeve. Those same fingers traced to her own, intertwining them together in a light lock.

For a brief moment Belle forgot everything again. They were back in their fantasy bubble where things were warm and welcoming. Jungkook was a sweet man who did nothing but give her affection in ways no one had ever done. He dedicated so much of his time and energy to taking care of her.

His empire, on the other hand, still tried to tape itself back together while a wrecking ball slowly hurdled towards it.

-

As the murmurs died down, Yoongi creeped outside of his bedroom door through the dark hallway. Quiet and a little chilly as sock covered feet slowly pattered across the floor. Only sound he could catch was Nana carefully walking down the stairs with a big basket full of laundry. He had the strong urge to help the woman but it would make it ten times harder to sneak towards the second living room.

Time had been running out. Four months really stretched over the amount of time he was supposed to be inside working but Yoongi knew what he had to get. With Belles’ pregnancy, Jungkooks’ attention fizzled and moved rapidly from the career to his new building family which usually ended with him out of his office more than he should be.

Belle once again proved her power in the Jeon mansion when a simple ice-cream parlor date seemed to get the dangerous drug lord out of the house in minutes at ungodly hours of the night. Though Yoongi honestly was not completely sure whether it was a ruse or just a rare strike of luck that she had cravings at this perfect time.

Ears pricked up when he heard a light crash from the right, clothes flying in the air and the sound of skin slapping onto wood roughly. Yoongis heart jumped seeing the older woman fall at the end of the stairs. However before he could step forward to help, three guards already rushed over immediately to her side like a pack of medics.

They huddled over Nana while she tried to laugh it away. “Just a little clumsy.” Her eyes seemed to flicker up exactly where Yoongi was standing. Only for a split second where he wondered if it was simply a random action.

Though if he stripped himself of any piece of naivety he had then it might not have been a random action at all.

While the three guards were preoccupied, Yoongi padded over as casually but quickly as possible out of the main living room towards the second living room.

Not glance over his shoulder but his heart still pattered and yearned to turn around. He had to be quick.

Across the second living room, his feet sped up until Yoongi couldn’t even keep up with it anymore.

He stood in front of the door of Jungkooks’ office which is when he finally looked over his shoulder to see the place empty aside from the sounds of Nana being helped at the stairs. Fingers wrapped around the golden knob, twisting it slowly hoping it didn’t squeak.

Turning and turning until all the door could was be pushed open.

Yoongi sneaked through small gap, entering the dark office before closing the door behind him.

Once the door closed, there was nothing stopping him from rushing towards the table almost making the wood underneath his feet squeak. He stood at the table where Jungkook would usually sit, gaze frantically searching anything that looked remotely helpful to what they needed.

Rustling through the papers, Yoongi found handwritten letters confirming deals and hard-copy information on secret funding towards dens. Patting the pocket of his pajama pants, he felt his phone, pulling it out and taking a picture as steadily as possible despite his hands trembling under the pressure of getting caught. He was at the heart of the nest now. If the guards saw him snooping around here, he would be dead instantly.

In his attempt to reorganize everything back again, he stumbled across one letter that looked unfinished. Yoongi had his phone ready until his eyes finally caught who it was written to, in Jungkooks’ handwriting.

‘Dear Mother and Father…’

Brows furrowed, slowing his pace for a moment while his chest still rose and fell in the heat of the moment. When Yoongis’ mind began gain a more steady pattern he began to read.

‘I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that I got married recently. I want you to be one of the first to know that Belle is carrying my child. I apologize for being unable to tell you sooner. She’s doing really well, doctors appointment have been doing good.

The reason why I’m writing this letter is not only to inform you but to also carry out something I’ve been wanting for a long time.

When the baby is born, I’m stepping down. This world. Everything. I began a relationship with Belle hoping to make all of you happy by marrying the perfect woman. She was it. Unfortunately she was too perfect. I’ve grown fond of her.

Everything about her makes me feel calm and warm like I can be normal around her. I’m not even sure what is but it’s a good feeling from what I’ve experienced. My wife and child’s happiness need to come first. I want to grow a normal family with her.’

Yoongi felt like his hands were dirty reading the letter now. He was going to step down. Then that’s it, right? It was going to stop and maybe there could potentially be some form of normalcy in all their lives. He kept reading the few words left.

‘However protecting this empire before I’m gone also holds the utmost importance. In the remaining months of Belle’s pregnancy, I am devising a method that should get rid of our Park Chul situation once and for all…’

Heart moved back to its original speeding pace when there were no more words to explain just what Jungkook had planned. Yoongi almost crumpled the paper a little but quickly dropped it onto the table, taking a few more pictures before placing under the pile of extensive work.

His eyes flickered up to see a little light coming through the open gap and his stomach dropped, seeing Taehyung glance at the male and at the desk. Yoongi wrapped his fingers around a pen tightly not wanting to hurt him truly but they were so close. So close to getting this over and done with. Especially now that Jungkook had some plan to strike back at the one strong source they had to take him and his empire down.

“Kitchen. Now.” The younger male stated glancing over his shoulder to see anything oncoming.

Yoongi relaxed his grip on the pen and let out silent sigh of relief watching Taehyung walk away from the office and disappear to the side. He hurriedly tip-toed across the room looking back to see if he missed anything before sneaking through the gap again and closing the door.

When he looked over the guards seemed to be chatting in the center of the living room instead of peering towards the second living room for any disturbance. Yoongi could only hear their murmuring and light chuckling before blindly following Taehyung past the fireplace towards the door that led to the kitchen.

The kitchen had been modified significantly compared to the rest of the mansion which still had an vintage feel to it. White marble with subtle gold details shining in the dimmed warm lighting.

Taehyung padded over and stood at the kitchen island. Fingers tapping on the surface of the counter with a sigh passing his lips. “Okay look Angel already told me what’s going on.”

Yoongis’ brows furrowed. “Jesus Christ, is this an undercover mission or a party?” He kept his voice to a whisper, hands on his hips.

“Apparently Seokjin said there was no point in hiding it anymore now that Belle knew.” He shrugged although a confused expression still adorned his features. “Said if she’s involved, everything will fall into place.”

“So he’s playing Gandalf now too?” He retorted. “How much more is everyone gonna ask from Belle?”

Taehyungs’ heart dropped as the question lingered in the air, head hanging. That nagging feeling was slowly fading away but now it replaced with something so much more painful. A guilt of what cost had be paid for this recovery. He never truly paid for his debt. Belle did. “You’re going to help her out of here, right?”

“I’m trying.”

“That’s not a good enough answer.”

“I know it’s not.” Yoongi spoke through gritted teeth. “But it’s all I can give you right now.”

Taehyung nodded, body deflating a little despite the slight ray of hope that all this might change for the better. “Is there any way I can help?” Ever since this whole mess began, he had not been able to ensure his little sister that he had her back. Because he didn’t for a while. All his thoughts seemed meld into one hazy need to get rid of the pain he felt. Except that time the pain never identified itself. Taehyung knew why it hurt this time. He wanted his sister out of here, towards a better life just like she did for him.

Yoongi searched the mans’ expression turn into something a little more desperate. He succumbed to drowning in that same feeling. Nana’s honest words ringing in his ears. This is not just an undercover mission anymore. He hadn’t even been there for that long; not as long as Taehyung but god, he could feel it. That aching tug wanting to hold onto Belle and take her away from all the pain she didn’t deserve. That fucking burning anger at the people who used every piece of her patience and good heart only to rip it away from her permanently. It sickened him knowing the woman never wanted all this in the first place.

His hand tightened around his phone when a thought jolted in his mind. “Do you trust anyone in the Sangria House?” Yoongi asked.

Taehyung had no hesitation in any nerve of his body or part of his soul when he said: “Yes.”

-

A familiar outing now waltzing into the Sangria House early morning when the air was cool and the sun just almost took its highest point in the sky. Brunette hair flowed to the side as he walked across the pathway through the entrance door with everyone immediately recognizing his face.

However today Taehyung walked in a less relaxed demeanor than normal as a tiny object in his jacket pocket grew heavier, forcing him to walk slower. You’re doing this for Belle. He knew Angel told him the truth about everything but something about this still felt like he was diving into a pool where he could not see the end.

Into the private room he was lead, the white coat opened the door and Taehyung saw Angel standing in front of the table

Angels’ smiled immediately adorned her glowing features as Taehyung walked into the room. As soon as the white coat closed the door behind him, she broke all manner of rules and jumped on him, arms wrapping around his neck and face buried into the crook.

Whatever knotted nerves he had loosened when Angel embraced him, warmth radiating from her body onto his and the scent of vanilla gracing his nose. His own arms wrapped around her waist, nose nudging into her shoulder to take in more of her aroma and ease all troubles.

“I thought you weren’t coming back.” Angel murmured. A month had passed since his last visit and it was embarrassing to admit that she grew a little worried. After all the two were not really doing anything exciting other than talking. At some point people would get bored and move onto someone who would easily provide better services.

Taehyung hummed in near bliss, rubbing his hand up and down her back. “I’m sorry.” His voice muffled against the fabric of Angels’ dress.

She gently pulled away from the hug even though Taehyungs’ arms were still secure around her. “Don’t apologize. I just get worried.” Angel chuckled shyly. Another bright smile tugged at her lips now as she broke his embrace but held his hand, leading him over to the table where a colorful array of rice cakes on a plate rested. “They made more flavors this time because you liked it so much.”

Taehyung could hear the delight in her voice making his heart warm. For a moment, he wished this was just a casual visit as they sat down next to each other once again. “Thank you…” His voice merely came out in a whisper. “Angel—” He placed his hand over hers, caressing it softly. “There’s another reason why I’m here.”

Angel’s smile softened now, not so much as a frown but an kind expression to show she was listening in all seriousness. “What is it?”

“You’ve already helped me so much.” Taehyung wrapped his longer fingers around her small, soft hand turning his body around so he faced her completely. “I need you to help me just this once. For my sister.” He grinned. “Are the cameras on in here?”

“I asked Seokjin to turn it off.” She smiled shyly. “It’s—it’s so I could hug you without the guards barging in.”

Taehyung grinned leaning in, forehead pressed against hers. “I wish I could stay longer…I really do.” He whispered. “But we’re not going to be able to see each other for a while.”

“I know.” Angel whispered, voice shaking ever so slightly. “What do you need me to do?” There she was again with the award-winning smile ready to do whatever she was required no matter what the cost.

“Please—I don’t want anything to happen to you.” He shook his head. “Say no if you want to.”

Angel caressed his chest gently as a way to comfort him. “I’m always safe, Taehyung. Believe me, I’ve probably been safer than Belle this whole time.” Shining eyes met his gaze giving him a more faint but hundred times more genuine smile. “No one deserves to have their life taken away like that. I want to do this.”

Taehyung had a bitter taste on his tongue hearing those words. Belle had been less safe than members of the Sangria House. Her own made-up home and equally fake family could not keep her safer than Seokjin did with his angels. “Okay.” He whispered, reaching into jacket pocket and pulling the tiny object. He placed it on his open palm making the thing look absolutely miniscule.

A USB stick, dark almost matching the color of Taehyung’s jacket. Angel accepted it and placed it in the last place anyone was coming looking. If they did, it would end in a heap load of trouble. Once the object was in her hand, she stuffed it in between her breast until it lay securely in her bra but unseen.

He bit down the wide smirk tugging at his lips watching the USB stick traveling down the valley of her breasts, hiding in the forbidden area for safe keeping. “Was that to tease me?”

Angel giggled reaching out and caressing his cheek. “Maybe a little.” She scrunched her nose.

Taehyung absolutely melted at the adorable sight, taking the liberty of the shut cameras to lean in and press the quickest kiss on her lips. “I-I know it’s against the rules.” Before he could explain himself any further, he felt soft plush lips quieten him down again, his heart jumped out of his chest.

Quickly pulling away from the kiss, she bit down her bottom lip to hide her grin. “There’s no rules anymore between you and me. Just don’t take too long getting back, okay?”

He chuckled and nodded. “You know what to do?” Taehyungs’ eyes absentmindedly flickered down to her breast.

With all her usual elegant confidence, she smiled. “You and your sister will be safe soon.”

-

The air was thick with elegance and style, vibrant colors of yellow, sky blue and rose pink gracing every corner twinkling in diamonds. Growing up Belle watched in awe every fashion show or design video imagining her own name etched on the curtains for all the critics and admirers to see.

Belles’ own attire was simple, long white dress with long, layer frills that helped conceal the bump to the best of its ability. Worst case scenario people would think she let herself go but really the news should be coming soon considering a four month bump already proved to be difficult to hide no matter what the dress looked like.

Makeup artists actively moved about each model almost like machines while Belle checked every outfit was fitted to perfection.

Only thing that doused the fire of energy was the aching. Her back, limbs and belly kept sending either dull or sharp pains ever since this morning which caused Belle to have a less than enthusiastic demeanor while preparing for everything.

Boyoung explained that it was normal to have these aches during the fourth month of pregnancy so Belle let it be. Except now she wished she had time for a small appointment with the doctor just to check everything was okay.

“Madame Belle!”

Saito’s voice brought her back to reality while she was fixing a models’ earring. Belle turned over her shoulder to see the woman wearing a white attire as well to ensure colors did not clash with the actual designs. A grin tugged at the corners of her lips, kindly giving the model good luck before turning to see the older woman. “Am I allowed to be called that yet?”

“Sweetie, you deserved to be called that long before this fashion show.” Saito chuckled, rubbing her arm. “How’re you feeling?” She tilted her head searching the youngers’ expression.

Belle took a deep breath feeling a jolting ache on her back but she smiled nonetheless. “I’m okay. A little nervous.”

“Good. It’s good to be a little nervous. That means you care.” Saito squeezed her shoulder gently. “I’ll be here with you the whole time.”

“Thank you.” Belle’s eyes flickered to the side where she saw a familiar figure in a suit walk backstage with his gaze looking around for something. “Excuse me, Saito.” She muttered before moving past her towards Jungkook.

When Jungkook finally set his eyes on her, his expression softened and a smile tugged at his lips. “You ready?”

She nodded mimicking his smile absentmindedly. “You came, I thought you had meetings.”

Jungkook shrugged non-chalantly. “I’m their boss. They can wait.”

Belle chuckled lightly watching Taehyung make his way backstage but one person still missing. “Where’s Yoongi?”

“He’s at his seat already.” The man nodded to the side. Jungkooks’ hand almost automatically reached out to caress her belly gently before quickly pulling away. “I’ll—see you at the end of the show.” He smiled.

“Yeah…” She whispered, giving him a bright grin.

For a moment he thought to just turn on his heel and leave but he couldn’t resist. Leaning in, Jungkook chastely pressed his lips against hers. Slowly he stepped back pressing his lips together before walking away.

Belles’ smile disappeared as soon as Jungkook was out of sights. Maybe to him the kiss meant a sign of good luck for the show. To her, it was a kiss to say goodbye.

-

Fingers caressed the warrant like his first born child, brush of light cool air bringing even more relief than Namjoon already had. God how many years did he sacrifice his health, sleep and sanity to come to this moment? Where he had a car parked just outside the gates of the Jeon mansion awaiting the clear sign for them to enter.

Of course the captain had some reluctance in giving them the warrant but a direct order from the mayor had him quaking enough to give the approval.

Every nerve in his body tingled in anticipation, looking at the paper before staring at the majestic mansion. All that power was about to crumble down to the state it deserved to be in. Obsolete.

Granted the male was not naïve in thinking that this infiltration will end everything. The Jeon family had roots so deep in this city that it would take ripped out the entire land just to get rid of everything. But this was a first step to ensure the empire never grew too big for its own good.

Every King needed to lose their crown every now and then to learn that they were just a person underneath all that luxury and power. Easily breakable.

And Namjoon felt oh so pleased finally being able to break Jeon Jungkook in his tyrannous reign.

In a perfect pattern, that thought led to the gates finally opening with two police officers signaling to him that the coast was clear to enter.

-

“It’s time. Places, everyone!” Belle called out and all the models rushed over to the area they needed to come out from. Her own heart pounded faster at every second and another ache jolted in her abdomen now strong enough to make her wince. But she held her composure with all the strength could muster.

Then the first model walked out onto the runway and her stomach jumped knowing her path to any possible reputation as a designer now began its course.

Camera flashed even more violently than before as Belle caught a few happy murmurs from the crowd. She smiled before another searing burst of pain hit both her abdomen and back forcing her to stop for a moment to take deep breaths, her hand caressing her belly to somehow soothe it.

“Just bear with me for a minute, sweetheart.” She whispered to the belly as it seemed to getting more and more violent in its power.

Halfway through the show, Belle succumbed to leaning on anything close by with the constant pain but her smile stayed intact. She felt something uncomfortable between her legs as if a period came along without her knowing.

That was when worry sunk in. Before she could place any attention on it however, one of her models’ dress got snagged with the necklace. Belle almost could not catch her name being called but the woman quickly got herself back and rushed to separate them to ensure no thread was out of place.

“Belle?” Saitos’ hand hovered over her back with a worried expression on her face. “You okay?”

No. That was the initial answer that formulated in her mind as she once again leaned back on one of the vacant vanities. “I’m okay it’s just—a little sore.” The description had been underwhelming to describe whatever was happening to Belle. Her knees were losing all its power to hold her body up, even her hearing ability became a little muffled as if trying to conserve energy or to numb more of the pain.

Saito nodded though not looking completely convinced since she could see through the younger female on any occasion. Gaze flickered down to her belly before meeting hers again. “Tell me if you need to stop. It’s just a show, okay?” She briefly caressed her cheek before glancing over at the models coming in and out, trying to analyze the situation. “Two more outfits left then we’ll go to the doctor.” She muttered. “Alright?”

Belle took another deep breath, cheeks puffing out a little in the process but she nodded putting herself back on her feet again. “Alright.”

All the models made their way to the stage showing off a final viewing of all the outfits in all their glory and the crowd soared. Anyone who knew Belle could feel the success simply oozing from this show. The sheer extravagance yet simplicity with subtle connections to the beautiful expression of nature during spring time brought an impressed smile even on the harshest critics.

If only the designer herself could completely enjoy this achievement without her whole body being overwhelmed with discomfort and pain.

“You have to go out for a bow.” Saito explained gently as Belle tried her best to focus only on her breathing.

Aside from her muffled hearing, her whole body now burned like a furnace making Belle a little lightheaded. It’s almost done. It’s almost done. One more smile.

God, that was the last thing she wanted to think on her first successful fashion show.

Once again the woman nodded giving Saito a big smile which she returned before turning on her heel and walking to the stage. Step after the other carefully trying to keep her composure as best as she could.

Then all Belle saw was a bright white light, her hearing now resorted to a high-pitched drawled out beep making her think she was watching a muted video in front of her. Shaking fingers intertwined with one another, the girl stretched her exhausted lips into a wide grin. Heavy head lowered into the most decent form of a bow without her legs giving out.

Keep it in. Keep it in. She repeated to herself, trying to focus on her breathing while barely being able to hear anything.

Camera flashed and the crowds applause tried to push the barrier of mute suddenly formed in her ears. Belle could see the smiles however. That was all she needed. They liked it. They liked her designs. Her work paid off just like she always dreamed. That thought kept her standing on the stage in the best composure she could muster. Another bow given to each side ensuring they knew how grateful she was.

Maybe for a brief second, Belle forgot her whole body was warning of something in messages of deep ache and lack of orientation or balance.

Though it quickly came back for another reminder. This time more persistent. Belle felt like her belly was being jabbed by something sharp in such a ruthless manner, she worried she could collapse right here on the floor. Even her legs trembled and the discomforting feeling between her legs now almost felt wet like it soaked through her panties.

Belle kept her smile though it was trembling significantly before she backed away out of the stage, almost running but there was hardly any strength left for that anymore.

The white light now faded away and she was away from the stage, coming in backstage.

As if something snapped in her willpower when Belle felt her legs stumble onto the floor just past the closed curtains. Knees crashed against the wooden floor leaving a thud echoing across the room.

Both Saito and Taehyungs’ smiles disappeared watching the bright looking woman drop to her knees, only thing they could hear now was her agonized whimpering.

Saito sped towards her before anyone else truly gauge the situation, heels slamming onto the floor before her arm over the youngers’ shoulder as she almost fell on her side. “Belle?” She turned her around to see mascara coated tears dripping down Belle’s cheeks. “Belle what’s wrong? Tell me please.”

“It hurts…” Belle cried out, lips trembling and the drenched feeling between her legs leaking down the insides of her thighs and making her dress stick to her skin. “The baby…” She whispered before gasping.

For a few seconds her vision turned white making her whine shakily as her lower belly felt like it was being ripped apart with someone’s bare hands. Cold tears under her eyes, unable to close her legs from the sloppy sensation and the pungent smell of blood. Belle tried to look down but all she could catch was a glimpse of her white dress now glistening in deep red.

“You sick fuck get out of here!” Taehyung grabbed the reporter by the collars just after the flash of his camera. He had every nerve in his body to punch him until his nose fell to the floor but the sound of his sister sobbing made him stop.

Three guards immediately rushed in and carried the reporter off backstage while they tried to thrash around like a dirty insect.

Taehyung breathed heavily grimacing at the pig before looking at one of the guards who looked equally distressed. “Get Jeon here now.” He gestured.

Eyes shone in delight as Jungkook looked at the audience chatting away with an air of enthusiasm. He could almost see his wife climbing up this ladder of success. She deserved every bit of it especially since the man now saw the designs for himself. Growing up seeing Saitos’ designs, it was pleasing to see that the style may have changed but the quality never diminished.

A guard then walked over to him, reluctantly tapping him on the shoulder and leaning into his ear so his voice could be heard only to them in the crowd. “Sir it’s your wife… there’s been an incident.”

As soon as those words were muttered in his ear Jungkooks smile disappeared. He knew there were cameras around but nothing else seemed whirl around his mind except Belle. His body grew cold at those horrid words that he hoped would never come together.

Feet bolted, passing the guard to backstage even though his increasingly pounding heart made it hard to move faster.

Yoongis’ stomach and heart were already dancing in distress this whole night after getting a call from Namjoon that they would be infiltrating Jeon mansion tonight and then arresting him as soon as possible for the amount of concerning evidence. The police would be waiting for Jungkook to be taken away at his own home. It was a cruel fate in a normal context but for a man like Jeon Jungkook, it was what everyone knew he deserved.

However then the guard rushed in to whisper something in Jungkooks’ ear and without even the slightest warning or preparation, Jungkook stepped into a run backstage.

If his nerves were not in knots already, now they were just tangled up forever. Not asking for any kind of clarification, he simply followed the younger male in the same pace knowing only one thing and one thing alone could have Jungkook so worried to be in such a rush.

Once Jungkook arrived backstage, breathing heavily and sweat already forming on his neck, his stomach twisted at the sight in front of him.

Saito wrapped dark burgundy cloth around Belle’s waist area, his wife’s white dress tainted with red while the models either wept or just looked utterly worried.

Taehyung had a phone to his ear speaking through gritted teeth possibly to a doctor attempting to give instructions.

Jungkook rushed towards the woman, tears already burning behind his eyes just looking at her sobbing in complete pain. “What’s happening? What do we do?” He whispered. For the first time in his life, the man had fear seeping through his tone.

Belle gripped onto Saitos’ clothes feeling her vision blur although she wasn’t sure it was from the tears or the lack of her ache ceasing. Before she could get her bearings, something hooked under her back and knees. Her body lifted from the ground and cold rush flowed through her from the speed she was being moved in.

Then all Belle could see was black. Everything shut down almost as if she was lulled to a deep sleep.

-

Yoongi practically kicked the door down as they tried to get out the backdoor. He opted to drive before anyone else could, running to the driver’s seat of the black sedan waiting just in case paparazzi rushed in too thick at the entrance.

Saito and Taehyung ran out with Jungkook following close behind, carrying Belle as securely as he could despite his stomach lurching.

Taehyung opened the door while Saito moved to the other side and climbed in.

Jungkook tried to place Belle laying down on the car seat as gently as possible before climbing in at the same time Taehyung sat in the passenger seat.

Before they could even close their doors, Yoongi drove off definitely breaking a few speeding rules as he practically burst into the streets, tires screeching against the tar.

-

“Go to the J District, there’s a shortcut button there.” Jungkook nodded to the GPS, city lights passing across his face.

“This isn’t time for a road trip, Jungkook.” Yoongi seethed.

“We need to go to the private house and get our own medic.” He argued.

Taehyung pressed the button even though anger still burned in his body. “Why can’t we just go to a fucking hospital? It’ll be closer.”

“Hospitals are public places, alright? The minute one disloyal nurse gets a glimpse of any of us, the press will be outside in seconds.”

Yoongis’ grip around the steering wheel tightened so much, he could feel his pulse through his palm as his knuckles grew white. “I swear to god, Jeon. This isn’t one of your damn danger missions.” Something cracked inside him and the male couldn’t seem keep any of the usual composure he had around the power figure.

Jungkook sighed looking over at Belle who struggled to keep her consciousness while her blood soaked through his own shirt. “Just do it.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

“Taehyung, dear get a medic to the private home now so no time is wasted.” Saito broke into the tension with her gently yet firm voice while her slightly blood stained hand brushed through Belle’s hair. “If she doesn’t get treatment quickly, it might cause an infection.”

Yoongi glanced at the rearview mirror, his heart feeling empty not being able to see Belle from this line of vision but he increased his speed anyway taking a quick left.

“If anything happens to her, Jeon I’ll kill you, I swear to god.” Taehyungs’ eyes were reddened and glossy, a phone pressed to his ear again as he called for a private medic to go to the Jeons’ private house immediately.

-

Belle jolted awake for a moment seeing a grey ceiling and a blurry vision of a face looking down. Some voices spoke but they were heavily muffled. Then her body felt like it was being moved again. As if she was flying or levitating somehow through her locations. “Tae—” It was the only name she could breathe out.

A burst of bright warm lighting hit her exhausted eyes making her close them for a moment. It left her trying to get her hearing together but they were still difficult to pick up. She heard a familiar deep voice. Her big brothers’ voice. Most of them seemed familiar except one who from whatever she could catch had a calm demeanor.

Her vision cleared just for a second but Belle was welcomed with blood dripping from something thick around her waist. At least she thinks it was from her. It tainted the wooden floors nonetheless.

In a few more heartbeats, she felt a soft surface under her body and Belle fully melted into it without any hesitance.

Jungkook backed away reluctantly as the doctor leaned in to examine Belle. A tear threatening to escape at the brim of his right eye.

Taehyung bit down the urge to sob looking at the amount of blood his baby sister shed on the floor. He looked around for some kind of cloth and found white hand towel with golden lettering. Grabbing the cloth, he crouched down to wipe off the trail of blood on the floor while his tears mixed in with it.

“We need to get some cleaner clothes on her.” The doctor stated looking over at Saito who quickly nodded.

“There’s some nightgowns in the cupboard.” Jungkook muttered, gesturing towards the white closet next to the vanity.

Saito shrugged her jacket off leaving her in her shirt tucked into her skirt as she opened the luxurious cupboard and pulled out the most breathable nightgown. Walking back to the bed, she climbed on the other side after pushing her shoes off.

The doctor took out some scissors and cut the middle of her dress so it could be ripped off easily since it was mostly ruined as it were. Saito helped the piece of clothing get shrugged off her shoulders.

Belle whined at the sudden cold feeling passing through her body. It definitely didn’t help since the blood began to stick to her skin.

Jungkook noticed the little sound and rushed to the fireplace, crouching down and switching it on to add more warmth to the room. His disoriented focus had to stare the running fire for a moment not able to gain any kind of patterned thinking. Shrugging his jacket off his shoulder, he threw it onto the chair to his side where his mother would usually read.

“May I have only one extra person in this room?” The doctor asked kindly.

Jungkook looked over his shoulder, snapping back to reality as Taehyung got up to his feet.

“I’ll take care of her.” Saito reassured the both of them.

Niether one of them opposed knowing there was really only one person who always took care of Belle without her having to give something in return.

Both males padded out of the room. Jungkook gave one final glance towards Belle before closing the door in front of him.

-

Once they reached the private home and Taehyung and Jungkook were preoccupied with getting Belle acquainted, Yoongi stopped at the entrance to shakily grab his phone. A light groan passed his lips when he couldn’t get his thoughts together to click the number. Eventually the memory came in and he typed the number in, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Yoongi we’re ready, where are you?” Namjoon muttered into the phone.

“Something’s happened, it’s Belle. We’re at the private home at J District. Get yourself fucking ready here now.” Yoongi quickly informed and hung the phone up, trying to delete the number on his phone as calmly as he could. His hand reached into his holster to feel the harsh object giving him some form of relief aside from the ache in his heart.

Walking into the private home, he saw Jungkook pacing around worriedly while Taehyung leaned back against the counter with his arms folded over his chest.

Yoongi found it so strange how a man of such power could look so vulnerable in front of him. It was the perfect time except he had a bitter taste on his tongue calling it ‘perfect’. To think it took Belle to go through an immense amount of pain for this to happen made him look more like the villain than the murderous druglord worried for his wife and heir.

-

It felt like eternity had passed and restarted again when Belle finally woke up without her vision being blurry or her hearing almost completely lost. The wet feeling between her legs now completely dry and even comfortably warm. Pain slowly subsided though there was still very faint ache that also slowly passed.

Reddened eyes flickered over to the side where she saw Saito listening to a man in a white suit talking to her in a soft murmur.

The expression on Saitos’ face only spoke concern or maybe pity.

“Saito?” Belle tried to speak but it came out in a raspy whisper, throat a little ticklish from how dry it was.

Saito looked over at the younger woman, sighing before meeting the doctors’ gaze. “I’ll tell her, you just inform the three men out there.” She gave him a reassuring nod.

“Of course.” The doctor agreed before opening the door and disappearing behind it.

Once it was just the two of them, Belle tried to shift in the bed to somehow sit up but the ache only increased making her wince.

“No no, stay still.” Saito quickly sat down on the edge of the bed, soothing her still swollen belly and held onto her hand.

“What—what happened? Where am I?” She looked around the strange bedroom before glancing down at her belly. “I–I can’t…” Belle placed a hand over her belly. “There was so much blood.” Her breath hitched in her throat.

“Belle…” Saito tried to keep her voice as calm as possible even though her heart dropped seeing the look of confusion and fear ridding the youngers’ face. “The doctor said your baby may have had a heart defect of some sort…” She gulped down. “It couldn’t survive, sweetie.” She tried to soothe her chest. “I’m sorry.”

Belle shook her head, feeling a burning behind her eyes. “No…no the–the doctors’ appointment—said everything—was fine.” She tried to breathe through her frantic sobs. “Why would they say it was fine?” She pulled herself up, wincing as tears collecting at the brim of her eyes. “Why would they say it was fine if there was a heart defect?”

Saito took a deep breath, squeezing her shoulders gently. “Sometimes they can’t catch it. These things are very difficult to predict, Belle.”

She had already been unconscious before now something else seemed to turn off inside her. As if the whole world did not crash or explode. But simply stopped working for the arrival of cruel fates’ plan.

-

Torturous amount of time passed before the doctor walked through the door with a solemn expression on his face giving none of them any sense of reassurance. Because there wasn’t any to give. He looked at all three of them who had stopped in their usual tracks to gaze at the older male. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon.” The doctor looked more at Jungkook now. “Your wife has had a miscarriage. I’ve cleaned everything up to ensure there was no infection but I do suggest that she go to a proper hospital for proper checkups.”

Jungkook looked completely frozen as the news lingered in the already thickened air. He backed away a little, balance on the edge of a study table of whatever it was the man didn’t care. Tears brimmed at his eyes trickling down his already flushed cheeks without a care in the world.

If Yoongi didn’t feel like a villain before, he did now.

Taehyung turned away to face the wall but he could still hear the light sobs passing his lips.

Yoongi faced the doctor and led him out of the home.

Out in the dark night, he smiled at the doctor giving him thanks as he opened his car door for him.

Once the doctor drove off onto the road, Yoonginoticed from the corners of his eye the figures moving around in the bushes around on his left and right. Blatantly the man turned to notice the dark uniforms even from the distance, their badges glimmering just a little in the light. On the right he heard the sound of metal moving.

It was time. This had to happen here and now or never.

Licking his lips he let out a deep sigh and walked back inside, once again, checking his holster before entering the house again.

-

Sound muffled to non-existence as the room seemed to get progressively smaller, walls hugging her still body. It ached everywhere. She could feel the burn and still smell the pungent stench of her own blood tainting the now soft, dry surface. Back cramped, lower belly so weakened as if it was punched a hundred times with spiked metal fists. Exhaustion clouded Belle’s mind, pulling this broken shell into a decent lull to slumber but her eyes stayed wide open. Unblinking. She stared at nothing and everything.

Mind finally accustomed itself to the new setting of the Jeons’ private home. Deep warm lighting from the lamps at each corner, dark wooden floors and a running fireplace facing the front of the bed. Belle remembered catching a glimpse of it when they carried her in here leaving a wet red trail on the floor as she was moved. Her body barely moved however, limbs burning but frozen at the same time. Belle told herself to try and wriggle her toes or move her fingers. Not a single nerve responded.

She had one thing in common with her mind now. Loneliness.

So strange to think that a being barely grown to be called a full human could place such a heavy weight on Belle’s head. The loss now brought this in this feeling of being alone. Belle was once two. Now she was one broken thing. Barely able to move or function.

The door clicked open but Belle still refused to move whether out of exhaustion or just lack of care. It didn’t matter what anyone said, that empty feeling was still there.

Saito stayed silent as long as she felt it was necessary. But the words seemed to fall out of her without control. “I really can’t say anything to make you feel better, honey. There’s no easy way to comfort someone who’s lost something that could’ve been.”

Persistently unmoving as the woman was, her eyes still flooded on its own accord, burning and liquid flowing onto the pillow. This wasn’t Belle’s fault. It wasn’t anyone fault. Nothing but fate once again showing how it never had it out for her in the first place.

That was the problem though, wasn’t it? Belle spent so much time praying for fate to do something right for her but it only gave her more pain. What was going to happen for the better if she just stood and smiled at all the suffering thrown her way? Fate gave her a fake marriage, forced her to fall in love with a man who only cared about his reputation. Fate allowed her to be impregnated against her will. Fate stood by while Belle lost the child she grew to love. The child she had envisioned to raise and protect was now gone.

“It’s a good thing.” Belle whispered, still not shifting from her position nor looking at Saito.

The older womans’ brows furrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

It had to stop. It had to stop now or never.

Belle pursed her lips together before swallowing down the lump in her throat, preparing the words that kept swirling in her mind for months. Begging to escape so she could be free. Finally she moved her head to meet Saitos’ gaze. Despite her weak nature, her eyes held firm onto hers to ensure that the woman heard and understood everything she was going to say.

“There’s something I need to tell you…about how Jungkook and I met.”

<< PREV CHAP | NEXT CHAP >>

[cracknoir]

not really headcanons more just pretentious shit i wanted to type out - sometimes it’s good to listen to yourself talk ok 

i quite like writing with npc’s because it gives me a chance to like show what jimmy’s like to people he perceives as below him. i always feel like people i interact with get a sort of skewed view of the sort of guy jimmy actually is cos he has time for them, but i also never write with npcs because if i do i end up writing absolute fucking essays 

i used to rp deadpool and i think that’s why i just say all the crack stuff i write is canon 

this might sound like a dumb thing to say but i have to do things to write. i need to be out exploring and talking to people and it usually inspires me a lot without me noticing. like im not saying i NEED to go on a walk in the woods to start writing but i always find once i’ve done that kind of stuff when i get back i usually have Ideas™. the rule goes that you only ever want to write when you can’t write, for me at least. most of this shit is just daydreams i have at work. that said time’s also the enemy. last night i went out for a walk and by the time i was home i was just too fucked

music plays a big part in what i write but sometimes this fucks me up, sometimes i spend ages looking for the “right song” to write something when really i write just as well when i have like, lofi beats to study to on 

ive been thinking about writing more short stories, or vibes as i’ve been calling them. love writing those sort of out of context drabbles that i’ve been doing lately, maybe i could do them about more than just these characters  🤔 🤔 🤔 maybe i’ll write something about my cowboy mans  🤔 🤔 🤔

if i do some short vibes about my cowboy oc with no icons would people like be down for that 

scratch that i’m gonna do it and you can’t stop me 

i did it and it’s in the queue oops 

also this has been in my drafts so long that i’ve just started doing the vibes thing. i hope nobody’s taking it personally but work’s really kicked into gear the past couple days 

actual headcanons tho

i recently found out that the mercenary business in america has a large overlap with nazis however i always thought that alex specifically worked with nazis, this said i’d probably never write anything related to that on this blog. i do have a sidestory in my head where jimmy goes down to florida and ends up killing a bunch of nazis but not like, bc of the morals or anything 

also this doesn’t bug me at all and i’d never correct anyone bc lbr assassin is a cooler word but assassin relates to political killings usually, if your character kills for money they’re a mercenary BUT ALSO i think mercenary usually has connotations of like military training??? i should reiterate this isn’t an actual gripe i have, but none of my characters are assassins

jimmy won’t go outside to smoke. dont even bother asking him to unless you want trouble. 

jimmy’s faked his death ONCE canonically but also maybe as a shitposty joke ye he’s done it like five times. i mean, the best way to celebrate someones birthday is to gaslight them into thinking ur dead 

been thinkin bout growin a mullet but same with growing a Big Beard there’s this gross inbetween bit that i’m like nah 

jimmy and jack and brad and rasputin are all wildlife mans. the rest are city slickers that wouldn’t last two rotations of the sun without at least 4 bars of signal on their Damn Fone 

jack steals lighters and the worst part is you barely even notice him doing it. if he’s been on a night out he’ll wake up with like, 18 different lighters 

it’s unclear whether the ufos frankie sees are real, just plains, or if he’s just an attention seeking prick. i don’t think he sees actual aliens but he has a log of ufo encounters he’s had 

on the same note, molly loved urban exploring 

death loves ice cream, especially bubblegum flavor 

yes. satan did lose that fiddling contest. everyone should stop talking about it. 

Claude’s killed roughly about 60 people 

Molly, Jack, little jake and jimmy will drive around for no reason just doing numerous drugs. sometimes it’s coke but they mostly just smoke weed and once they drove around sniffing mdma 

jimmy hates speed but still does it. jack hates ketamine but still does it if offered. 

u can tell what jack’s up to by what he offers u when u first walk into his house. if he offers you a coffee, you’ll probably be offered a smoke next, if he offers u a drink, you’ll probably be offered a line next. 

also jack bought a fancy coffee maker and makes like caramel coffees nd shit 

i really need to cut this shit off this post’s getting too long 

consider this shit cut off 

shit 

cut

off

GOODNIGHT EVERYBODY 

[frogmentarii]

QUESTIONS FOR OC CREATORS

Haaaa ok so I am doing this cause i saw @fallout-lou-begas steal it from @tarberrymentats and they both looked like they were havin hella fun so i am commandeering this for my own purposes. So lucky for yall its Emi time (art by the dearest @yesjejunus because yall need to see more of her work)

A) Why are you excited about this character?

Because she's an older woman (57) that breaks a lot of moulds and I love to see it. Aside from just enjoying older characters, Emi isn't a sweet old lady and she isn't here to try and mother anyone. Her drives are entirely her own and while she prioratizes herself and her sister before anyone else, its not always due to complete selfishness and just due to growing up in the wastes (I try to keep her character true to a fend for yourself setting as possible). I think Ill go into detail in another question with this, but I went through a lot of concepts and personalities for Emi before settling on someone who was seasoned and very much a product of the wastes. I think after seeing a lot of other couriers I finally figured out what I wanted to do differently, and that sort of helped guide her to become what she is today.

B) What inspired you to create them?

I think my last line there sort of short answers this. I wanted someone different from the other couriers I saw, and wanted to make one that was distinct or even juxtaposed against some tropes. She's a woman in her late 50s that doesnt try and play mom/granny to the companions, she very much has no stake in what happens to the Mojave, she doesnt care about Benny or that he shot her in the head (such is life in the Mojave, but she did have a job to complete so ripperoni him), and a lot of her motivations are selfish or exist to benefit her sister. She doesnt act 'old' in the fact that she isn't a wise caring soul or a grumpy old man, but rather her age is shown through her experience, and this also shapes her personality. She's never had to formally 'grow up' so she can come off as immature and irritating for her own entertainment, but she doesn't have youthful ignorance for how the world works. She knows how to be responsible but she doesnt have to act like it outwardly, even with her Tragic Caregiver Backstory.

C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?

To a large degree in the beginning, yes, and to specific degrees now, also yes. Writing in general isnt my strong point though I did know what I wanted for her. The main image is there but the details are funky, and Ive been slowly hammering those out as I work along with her and Camila's stories. There's been some huge changes along the way that help push both of them towards an ending I like and that fits them, and even if it takes forever and I never actually write a fic, I'll be happy when she finally feels completed in New Vegas.

Aside from that, she kind of fits in anywhere in regards to AUs. My friend @yesjejunus and I have probably like 40000 fucking aus for our OCs and all of them feel just as organic and their canon stories.

D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

So I know I have an 'original concept Emilia' art on here where she looked like Laura Croft and had aviators but that wasnt even her first concept. I had originally wanted to make a petite southern belle type from Louisiana who used a shot gun and had a mean streak, but as I kept playing with concepts Emi really started to lean other places. Another huge change was her personality. Even when her concept got settled as a sniper from Mexico, she was suppose to be an early 30s caravan guard who was way too sure of herself. While there are reminents of that concept still in her, she has a lot more experience in the wastes and in think-on-your-feet situations to back up her attitude. Another thing she required was dropping her "take me seriously" personality with more goofy "i do what i want cause why not" traits.

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

Emi can get along with anyone at a surface level, for a small while, if it will benefit her or she wants to pass time. She really doesn't have interest in folks who arent interesting or beneficial in some way. Since I don't really offer her much, and am a bit of a wet bag, she might yank my chain for her own funsies or she'd have no interest.

And while I did indeed give Emi my go with the flow attitude, I think I wouldn't be able to keep up with her. Emi is very fast paced and doesnt necessarily have regard for those she decides to pick up as drinking buddies for the night. Def dont trust her with my life, and knowing the shit she gets into I'd def want to steer clear of it....like a trainwreck its much better to watch her from a safe distance, lol.

F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

A lot of affection from a meta standpoint? I've worked with Emi and Cam a lot since creating them, and they've def come a long way since their original concepts. I wouldn't say their story is quite where I want it yet, but I am quite happy with it overall.

That, and Ive met so many awesome writers along the way with Emi. Not all of my friends have posted fic but the amount of world building and having our characters interact and talking OCs ive done with them has placed both Emi and their OCs in a special place for me. Sure her having her own story is fun but I much more prefer the bonds Ive created with people over OCs and I think thats a bit more of a cherished component to character creation for me.

G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

Literally? That she likes to be irritating if she feels she can get away with it (or even if she cant). Actually? That she has a very "I shelter you and feed you therefore I make the rules, period." stance on how she takes care of her charge. She lets a lot of shit slide with Camila but things get very Rapunzel-esque at times.

H) What trait do you admire most?

How sure of herself she is. Even if its to a fault, she trusts herself and her judgements. That sort of confidence is something I strive to have haha.

To a lesser degree, and more of a meta point I wanted to make with her, just...her appearance I suppose? To me she's attractive, but she also has a lot of traits that aren't conventionally attractive and that's played a lot into how Ive wanted her to be. Again she's 57 years old. She has age to her body, her skin wrinkles and droops, her tits sag, she has the body of someone who uses chems, and yet despite her age and breaking of beauty standards ive made it a point to show that she is desired or thought of as attractive in non fetish specific circumstances. She herself, while aro, also still has an active sex drive and I really wanted this to be a backseat part of her character, as I feel like fandom in general shafts older women in this department (this also goes for a lot of her non 'old lady' traits I give her too). She still has sexual needs and is still very much sexually active, and she is still found to be a regular sort of attractive and is desired by those she gets involved with.

J) Did you have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to allow them to create their character?

Yes? Ish, to a degree. I didnt have to but I wanted to. I also did a lot of headcanoning with post Mexico for her early life which, afaik is free real estate for lore/nothing super detailed has been given in canon.

Given that she and Camila both shape their stories as individuals, I did have to split up some canon elements to follow two seperate characters, but other than that I really just had to make sure Emilia's story wasnt "boring" in the fact that she again, has no real stake in what happens to Vegas/the Mojave.

I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?

Cackles in 'which au will I obsess with today'

For the most part yes, however I love placing her in new things or different stories. She may be 'my courier' but really shes just the frog granny that goes into whatever au I am feeling at the time.

[faecaptainofdreams]

Story time! The start of this story has a bit of a theme song, because i just always think of this: www.youtube.com/watch?v=uyGSe7… Sad and awful as it looks, this actually has a majorly happy ending! Major thank you to my friend Sumi-Sprite for collaging this for me! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- When Walter is 22, he goes on a very dangerous mission with Lance. While they wait for backup (which Lance is willing to accept most of the time now on account of personal growth), the duo storms a chemical lab, where the "final battle" takes place. I don't have a lot of details worked out, but long story short, they succeed in their mission (with several casualties as a result of what comes next), but fire and blow-outs in the lab lead to a very terrifying situation. The men find themselves in a space with only one oxygen mask for emergencies. Lance forces Walter to wear it,  but even after being taught compromise, the latter is very stubborn. As Lance begins to lose consciousness from being stuck inhaling smoke and various chemicals, Walter takes advantage of this. He shoots him in the neck with his own tranquilizer (a familiar scene, no?), and as Lance is passing out, Walter gives him the mask instead. Lance passes out from the tranquilizer, and Walter slowly begins to suffocate until he too, is rendered unconscious. Lance wakes up in the medical bay at the H.T.U.V. Delirious but suddenly remembering the mission, he starts to panic and call out for Walter. Not a few moments later, the younger of them reveals he's in a bed right beside Lance's, groggy with an oxygen mask strapped to his face, an IV in his arm and an EKG hooked up to him, but he's smiling and reaching out for Lance. Lance takes the boy's hand firmly and says "You scared me." Walter answers with "You scared me first...!" He sleepily explains that backup came and rescued them and brought them back to the agency, where they've apparently only been for a short while. In better shape than Walter on account of the latter's sacrifice, Lance gets up and lays beside him, jokingly threatening a "quadruple fire" if he ever does something like that again. Walter very softly smiles and says "I'm not sorry." When Marcy eventually shows up to visit them after hearing the news, she finds them laying there in the bed together and jokingly asks if she's interrupting something. "Nope, just two grown men cuddling after they almost died, nothin' to see here," answers Lance in a similar tone. Marcy informs them that most of their targets were saved and are in custody (some of them being in the hospital), but a few of them died from the fire and chemical blast. Walter is sad to hear it, but accepting of it, and glad that not every life was lost. About an hour or two later, he's stable enough to be off of the oxygen and other attachments. With all the smoke and chemical inhalation, the medical staff advises giving Walter a bronchoscopy to check for potential damage to his lungs. Such a procedure often only requires conscious sedation with a numbing of the nose and throat, but when they get him to the operating room, Walter panics at the thought of being awake while having a scope down his throat; after having nearly suffocated to death just hours ago, the thought of being awake and the fear of suffocating again is too much to bear (even though he would be fine). So instead, they decide to give him a general anesthesia and put him under for the procedure. It's just safer for everyone this way. When it's over and he's beginning to wake from the anesthesia, Walter is wheeled back to his room on the bed, and is happy to see Marcy and Lance waiting for him. But anesthesia is a funny thing, and as he's wheeled in, he's singing the Disclaimer Song in a very loopy fashion. Once settled, he chooses not to finish the song. This conversation ensues: ------- "Lance: You're not gonna finish the song? Walter: *mildly sassy* Ffffhhh, youknooww... I sing...ALLLL the tiiime, anndiiiffinishh all of them, anndd it'ssfuunn, buut... Whyy issitt aalwaayys me...? Why'd's WalterrBeckkett onlyy siing??? YOUU finishth'sonng... Lance: *"well shit" face* Wow, all right then, I'll finish the song. ♫Don't try this at home, if you do, you might--♫ Ey, aren't you gonna sing? Walter: ...Mmm givinng youaheadd starrtt..." ------- He joins in eventually. There is a lot of talking about various things, and lots of Marcy and Lance laughing to themselves at the rambling and singing. Oh yes, more singing. Lots of singing. Lance records some of the rambling, including an entire conversation that begins with Walter casually asking if they'll have to "take his lungs out." After being told no, that he's perfectly fine, he says it would be hard to breathe without lungs, and then regales his company with the thought of the lungs being replaced with balloons. Specifically, the left one would be blue, and the right one would be red. Why? He doesn't know, it's not his call, apparently. At the thought of them popping if he took too deep a breath, a laughing fit on Walter's part ensues. A little while later, this conversation happens: --- "Walter: Whenn I'mmbetterr, 'm gonna drriiveyou'round in the e-tron... Lance: You wanna drive me around? Walter: Yeaaah... Ohh, waait... Imight craash... Lance: Naaahhh, i think it'd be worth the risk. You can drive the car. Walter: Buutt youuloove that carr... Lance: Yeah, well... I love you more. Walter: Hmm..... Whaat...? Lance: *softly* I said I love you, Walter." --- Lance has told him this before, but in his drugged up state, the blatant expression of love swiftly turns the tide of the mood from funny to pitiful. Walter bursts into tears and tells Lance he loves him, too. And Marcy. And Killian, and Joy, and Lovey and Jeff and Crazy Eyes, and Terrance even though he ignores him, and August (OC) and Ramsey (OC [sorta]) and Shannon (OC) and that he thinks it's mean that people nickname Joy "Joyless," all while bawling his poor eyes out. Endeared, Marcy and Lance try to calm him down. But Walter reveals that he hasn't forgotten his conversation with Lance when they first woke up in that room together. He says he's sorry for scaring Lance, that he just didn't want him to die because he "doesn't want to be alone again," but that he understands Lance has the same fear and he just couldn't win. Somewhere in the rambling mess of emotions, he mentions fear of Lance "dying like his mother." Basically, every subconscious or pushed-down negative thought and feeling he's had since the mission comes blubbering out in a heap of drunken tears and sadness. Seeing how very real his distress is, his company is quick to try and ease his mind and offer him comfort. Walter asks if Lance really is going to fire him again, to which Lance says no. He then asks if Lance is mad at him, which earns another "no." Lance says no one is mad at him, that he just needs to close his eyes and try to take a nap. After a few minutes of quietly crying to himself with his eyes closed, Walter comes to a terrifying conclusion... What if he never stops crying?! Of course, Lance almost bursts out laughing, but a death glare from Marcy forces him to keep it to himself, lest he risk further upsetting Walter. It may sound ridiculous, but for someone who's been anesthetized, every feeling is very real. Marcy comforts him, tells him no, he's not going to cry forever. It's not long before the tears slow down. They don't stop, but they slow down. [fun fact: crying is reported in 40% of patients who wake from anesthesia, be it for a presented reason or for no reason at all. Very little is known about why this occurs, though it's suspected that the stress and fear from whatever they had to be put out for manifests itself in that drugged-up state. This is referred to as "the boo-hoos."] But it's late, and Marcy must go home. She and Lance talk off to the side, and the lady gives her man a kiss to remember her by for the evening.~ After Marcy's departure, Lance decides that after everything they've been through and with how upset Walter's been, he will sleep in the bed with him. He reclines him, crawls in, and holds him tight until morning. Walter wakes up around 1 in the morning, mildly confused, but Lance tells him to go back to sleep. Happy that Lance stayed with him and choosing not to question this unexpected all-night cuddling party, he submits without a word. By morning, everything is fine, and the anesthesia has worn off. Before the lad can even put his clothes on, Lance just HAS to show him the video he took of him while he was all loopy. Walter is embarrassed and cringes through it, but also laughs at some parts. It's a happy ending. "Okay but for real, don't ever do that again."        "No promises." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------- This movie is something else. Lance, Walter and Killian have all experienced trauma and loss, but in different ways. Walter and Killian are the extremes; one copes with loss through love, wanting desperately to let people in and let others know they aren't alone. Killian has no way to cope, and expresses his pain through hatred and a desperate longing to make the one who hurt him feel what he's felt, and then end it all in his own death. Lance is right in the middle. He has acquaintances, he talks to people, he cares, but he holds everyone at arm's length. He pretends everything is fine, he acts cold and aloof, "too cool" for playing on a team or working with others. But really, it's a fear of letting others in, because life could take it all away again. He still bears a lot of empathy, but also exercises carelessness on criminals. He and Killian are not so different, but with Walter's help, both men learn to open up (we can see Killian's expression for redemption in his final scene in the movie, we know he was a little touched that Walter saved him. Also consider, Killian didn't know Walter survived that fall at the time). So now that they're partners and each have someone in their lives to love -- multiple people now, in fact, it means feeling desperation to keep them close. It means taking a bigger risk, it means work. After everything they've been through, no, Lance is not ashamed to hug and hold and love on his little nerdy white gay son. He's not afraid of intimacy anymore, no matter the form. He'll take what he can get, because tomorrow is never a promise. Would you die for the ones you love...?

[searchingforenadi]

bleeding on the floor is a safety hazard

can i interest you in a secondPOV!OC, KHR fic in these trying times?

i woke up in the middle of the night and vomited this out - i have never been so terrified of my own lack of brain cells. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

a brief summary: Your customers won’t stop bleeding in your shop. You realize this might be a problem. (second person!OC, TYL).

i. 

You try your best not to stare at the knife in the man’s side.

“Um,” you say, passing over the packaged box of cake. “Here you go.”

He smiles brightly and hands you several bills. There is a sword strapped to his back and you are terrified to even allow the thought that he might be foreign. “Thanks! Keep the change.”

You nod minutely. Then, the actual number of those bills catches up to you like a freight train off the rails. “Wait - ”

But it’s too late - the man, the cake, and his accompanying knife are gone. You look down to find that he’s left behind a puddle of blood.

You breathe in deeply, count to ten, count backwards from ten, and march back to the kitchens to grab some towels and soap. 

The cake had been paid twice over - you’ll take a little bit of blood for that any day. 

ii. 

It’s hard to imagine that something as exciting as a bleeding man would eventually fade into your memories, but that’s exactly what happens. 

A week goes by and you’re hauling over a new delivery of flour. It’s tough work but you’ve done this for years - eventually, the shop’s ready for another day.

You reach the front entrance. And stop.

The same man from last week, Knife Man, waves through the glass door. He has a new companion - not a knife - who scowls under a crown of silver hair.

You consider taking the day off. 

But no, your bills won’t pay themselves, and if they pay as well as last time, you might even be able to buy a new electric mixer.

Decision made, you flip over the sign and open the door.

“Hi again,” Knife Man says, a smile still on his face. “Sorry about last time.”

“That’s okay,” you say politely, because returning customers are golden. Your regulars are your saving grace. “Nice to see you again.”

“Same to you,” he says, tugging his friend over to the counter. His fingers trail eagerly over the sweets on display as he turns to the man. “Come on, pick one!”

You move behind the register and wait patiently. 

“I don’t like sweets!” Knife Man’s friend snaps. “I can’t believe I’m stuck with you today.”

Ever the business owner, you pipe in, “We also have drinks, if that’s more to your taste.”

That gets the man’s attention. 

“I’ll just have a coffee then,” he grumbles, fishing out his wallet. 

Knife Man joins his friend and grins. “Then I’ll have a slice of tiramisu.” 

“This early in the morning?” Knife Man’s friend hisses. 

Pointedly avoiding any conversational traps, you say, “Coffee and tiramisu. Together?”

The friend huffs. “Sure, fine. Here, keep the change. For the idiot’s blood.”

You blink at the money shoved into your face. If you had been any other person, you might protest at the clear extortion - it’s just blood. 

But you had been raised pragmatically and so, with a smile, you accept the bills. 

“Please wait a moment,” you tell them, and get started on the coffee. 

In a few minutes, you pack the cake neatly into a little box and hand it over with a cup of espresso.

“Thanks,” Knife Man’s friend grumbles, taking a sip of his drink before glancing back down at the cup. “Huh.”

You don’t challenge any strange noises made over your products, you remind yourself, and smile pleasantly instead. 

They leave quickly after, with Knife Man waving once again, and you release a sigh.

“Electric mixer, electric mixer,” you hum, sweeping the floor with a broom. “So very soon, electric mixer - ”

iii. 

A few days later, the front door opens and, lo and behold, it’s Knife Man’s friend, silver hair tied behind his head. 

You smile in greeting and ponder the possibility that you just might be cursed. 

“Two coffees,” he says, with nary a greeting. 

You’ve met worse, so you take the money handed to you and make quick work of the order.

It’s clear he’s not interested in making any small talk and, if you’re honest, you’re not really eager to start any yourself.

Soon enough, you hand over two steaming cups over the counter. 

“Thanks,” the man says, proving that he’s not yet a lost cause. Under his breath, he mutters, “That damn machine better be fixed by now.”

Technological difficulties - you can sympathize. You wave off the man and get started on your next order.

iv.

You don’t encounter any issues involving blood until a month later, after several more visits from your strangest regulars. 

“The usual,” Knife Man says brightly, seemingly oblivious to the cut above his eye and the blood trickling down his face. 

Knife Man’s friend casually tucks his clearly burned fingers into his sleeves. “The same for me.”

There is a moment of silence. 

How, you wonder, is he going to carry his coffee with burned fingers? You know how that feels. Intimately, in fact - you’re a baker. 

But that’s none of your business and so, very politely, you accept the money - stained with suspicious black dots - before getting started on the order. 

You hand over the food and coffee and say, “Here you are.”

“Thank you,” Knife Man says, gingerly accepting both the cake and coffee. He stops for a moment before studying you curiously. He smiles broadly. “I’m Yamamoto, by the way. And this is Gokudera!”

Japanese names, you note, even as the newly named Gokudera barks at the man.

“ - the hell are you thinking, you idiot?”

Yamamoto shrugs, somehow unhindered by the food, coffee, sword and blood on his face. “I think we’ve been here often enough.”

You very clearly ignore the incredibly suspicious conversation continuing on before you. 

“Good to know,” you say instead, because as nice as it is, having bleeding customers is not the best reputation for any business. “I’ll see you next time, Yamamoto, Gokudera.”

“Same here,” Yamamoto says - his Italian is impeccable, you notice.

Gokudera grunts, eyes boring into you suspiciously. 

“You say our names very naturally,” he says slowly, eyes narrowing.

You can’t tell if that’s a compliment or a threat.

“I’m half?” you offer, not sure why it should matter. “I’m not fluent though.”

Yamamoto looks incredibly pleased. “Wow! That makes a lot of sense.”

You… still can’t tell if that’s a compliment or a threat.

“Thanks,” you say, because what else can you say? Your mom’s genes are strong in your veins, so it’s not really surprising. 

They leave not long after, Yamamoto calling out goodbye and Gokudera squinting right at you. 

You lean over the counter and check the floor, just in case. It’s nearly safe, until you notice several specks of blood all over the counter itself.

“... damn.”

v.

One morning, Yamamato enters the shop with a new companion. 

“Hey!” he greets, the early hour not bothering him in the slightest.

It’s suspicious because at this point, you are very aware that Yamamoto does not drink any sort of caffeine. 

Very suspicious, you think, staring almost enviously at his non-existent dark circles. 

His friend, however, seems appropriately more miserable. 

“One cappuccino, please,” the man says, chestnut hair all over the place. His hazel eyes droop slightly. 

You smile in sympathy. “Got it.”

“Oh, also,” Yamamoto pipes in, leaning onto the counter. “We’ll be staying here for a while - that okay?”

You blink at the change.

“Sure,” you say, gesturing to the few seating arrangements you have. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

You cut up a larger slice of tiramisu and set it on a plate. As the milk boils, you wonder what’s so different now - Yamamoto always orders to-go. 

Pouring the foam over a cup of espresso, you decide it’s none of your business. You didn’t build up your customer base by being nosy.

“Here,” you say, sliding over the cake first. Yamamoto grins in thanks. “And the cappuccino…?”

You watch as Yamamoto’s friend stares blankly into the distance.

“Um,” You say. You look back at Yamamoto. “Is he okay?”

Yamamoto lets out a long laugh. 

“He’s fine,” he says, waving a hand. “We just had a long night. Hey, Tsuna. Tsuna!”

The aforementioned Tsuna startles, dark eyes blinking rapidly. “Wha - ?”

You wait patiently as he looks blearily up at you. Raising the drink in your hands, you try again. “Your cappuccino?”

Face flushing slightly, Tsuna moves to grab the drink. “Right! Sorry about that.”

“That’s okay,” you start to say, about to let the cup go, but something slips along Tsuna’s grip. 

You catch the cup right as it's about to tilt.

“Careful there,” you say wryly, deciding to skip the dangerous part and setting down the cup on the table. Patiently, you tell him, “It’s hot.”

For some reason, Tsuna’s face darkens even further. “O-Okay, sorry.”

“Not a problem,” you say, shrugging because a missed accident is as good as no accident. “Enjoy your stay.”

They stay for another half hour before departing, and you wave back when Yamamoto says goodbye. Appearing more awake than before, Tsuna gives a half-hearted wave as well. 

All in a day’s work, you think, cleaning down their table and moving on to help another customer.

vi.

Two weeks later, Yamamoto’s friend, Tsuna, walks in with the look of someone ready to jump the bridge at any moment’s notice.

Yikes, you think, and put on your best customer smile. “Can I help you?”

The frazzled look in his eyes does not go away.

“I need a drink?” he asks, which is not the strangest way someone has ordered from your shop, but it’s still pretty up there. Rubbing his eyes, he tries again. “Sorry - usually Hayato’s the one to grab them. He never told me the name.”

“Hayato?” you ask, already filing through the people Tsuna might know (it’s a short list, you only have two regulars that dress in suits like those). 

Tsuna groans into his hands. “Right. His last name is Gokudera?”

“Ah,” you say, already getting started on the coffee. You try to offer some help. “It’s usually just coffee. Nothing special.”

And just like that, Tsuna’s face transforms from someone wanting to die into someone wanting to die. 

It’s not polite to laugh at your customers, you remind yourself, turning back to the coffee. You swallow the bark of laughter in your throat.

By the time you face him again, your face is at its most polite. 

“Just one, right?” you ask, ever the professional. Remembering last time, you very carefully pass over the drink.

Tsuna nods silently and slides over some cash.

“Thanks,” he says, before practically flying out the shop. 

The moment the door closes shut, you crouch down and let out a loud ha! 

Then, you stand up, features settled back to normal, and pocket the cash into the register.

-o-o-o-o-o-

the terrifying part is that there is more to this and it’s not stopping. i imagine MC can be any gender you see them as for now, with a nice amount of respect for local authorities and common sense, and perhaps a dash of great customer service. 

this began as an attempt to write some sort of romantic Tsuna/OC fic - which is as big of a joke as I am, because it’s clear MC is too pragmatic for anything like that. at this point, anything is up for grabs.

[pebblysand]

of tyres that blow (extended author’s note of chapter v. of castles)

- - TO READ THE CHAPTER ITSELF, CLICK HERE. - -

Oh, what a month it has been. Well, a month and two days - I’m a bit late updating. I’ve had two good things happen, writing wise. 1) I got my first original short story published (!!!!) (you can read it here) and 2) I put out a little one-shot about Fleur Delacour that I’m super happy about and gave me an idea about a new series (more on that later this week, I hope. I might need help with prompts!). Regardless, this latest Irish lockdown is fucking endless and I sometimes wonder if this fic isn’t just an outlet for my feelings of lockdown-induced loneliness, apathy, but also a constant argument that I have with myself thinking: for the love of god, just pull yourself up, will you? You’re a Gryffindor, goddamn it. I certainly wish my fucked up sleeping patterns on no one, although I may or may have Mary-Sued that onto Harry, lol. (Spoiler alert: he’s scheduled to get some real sleep in next chapter. All bets are off regarding whether I will.)

This chapter was surprisingly easy to write (I basically vomited out chapters iv, v, and vi over the span of a week in December) but incredibly difficult to edit. For days, I just couldn’t concentrate, wrote and re-wrote and felt like everything was shite. Then, I realised it’d become this 19,000-words long monster so I had to cut a lot of shit out. We ended up with 15,898 words which I suppose is better? 

I do wonder: do people mind long chapters? Like, I know as fanfic reader, I personally prefer longer formats and rarely gravitate towards works that are less than 3,000 words. I love just getting buried into a story, into plots rather than single scenes. This being said, every time I write something that I deem too long (i.e. above 10k) I have these excruciating struggles where I wonder: should I cut it in half? should I leave it as is? I decided to split the last one. Then, I decided not to split this one because (you may notice this or not, I’m not sure) it’s kind of built a certain way, geared towards basically getting to the last two paragraphs. Like, when you get there, it’s a bit of an ah-ha moment, but I couldn’t get to that ah-ha moment without all the build up before it. It’s the accumulation of all of these little details that feel like they don’t matter. And as Harry says in the end, they don’t, in the grand scheme of things, but also they do. Like, everyday life doesn’t matter until you lose it. Then, it does, if that makes sense.

In terms of next update... I’ve decided to get my law licence transferred to France and the EU (it’s a long story), which means that I need to bloody, fucking study. The exams are at the end of March so my current plan is: hardcore study until the end of february. Mix study/writing in early march and hopefully get chapter vi out mid-March, then hardcore study until the end of March. Please, if you see me posting then, tell me off in the comments cause god, I really need to pass. Now, I will go have my traditional i-ve-put-a-chapter-out shot of limoncello and let you read the below :).

...spoilers for castles, chap v. under the cut -

I’ve done a lot of thinking about what this chapter is meant to be about. Obviously (I hope), every chapter has a point, in this story. Chapter 1 is about time (the way it passes and blurs when your mind’s a complete mess), chapter 2 is about hope, chapter 3 is about inevitability and the consequences of trauma, chapter 4 is about becoming an adult and growing into your own skin, etc. I think this one is about fear. How you feel it, and how you overcome it. Like, Harry takes a decision to stand up, fight, do the interview, regardless of the fact that he is scared (for his life, for that of the people he loves), and finds buried inside him a lot of the courage that he (felt) he lost, after the war. He learns to control his fear of the world by figuring out how apprehend it, through the training Giulia gives him, through learning how to kill, too. 

But, it’s also about fear in society. How the attack on Robards sets everyone on edge and how they keep going regardless. I initially wrote this chapter with the idea that it was going to be about speaking out and being brave, but obviously, fear and fighting against it is a huge part of that, too. 

Then, there’s Mia. Obviously, this fic is Harry/Ginny endgame but I do like the idea of Harry (and possibly Ginny as well) dating at least one other person, before officially tying the knot. Like, yes, Ginny is obviously coming back next chapter. She’ll probably own the second half of next chapter, if I’m honest, considering they’re obviously going to the burrow for christmas. I love Ginny, I’ve missed her and honestly, I can’t wait to bring her back. This being said, to be fair, I’ve kind of realised that this fic may actually be the first I ever write that isn’t strictly “shippy.” Like, yes, their relationship is a huge part of it (it’s a huge part of his life) and it will and was always going to be a huge part of this story but I think this fic is larger than that. It’s a result of my years-long obsession over: but what happens next? Over what “all was well” really means, in a general sense. How do they get to “nineteen years later” and beyond. But yeah, I’ve missed Ginny and I’m glad she’s on her way back to us now. 

Now, obviously. Giulia. I’m sorry. This was always going to happen. Well, almost always. I remember when I first wrote her in, she was a bit of a filler character. At the time, the thing with Mia was supposed to happen in last chapter and I actually had (have) much more backstory around her, than around Giulia. She and Harry were going to have proper conversations (will they ever, who knows?), really get to know each other. But then, Giulia came first narratively and shone through the page. I started writing her and she had this personality and life of her own and I couldn’t bring myself to curtail her. 

Now, we all know how it is: fanfics can only tolerate so many OCs. So, I had to choose between putting Mia at the forefront, or Giulia. I chose Jules. 

Then, in chapter 4, I wrote this: 

Her first lesson is to teach him how to drive the patrol car. ‘I don’t know why we use them,’ she explains, honest, and Harry vaguely wonders if he should be taking notes. ‘Reckon the Ministry saw them being used by Muggles, had to prove they could do better. They like making noise, the Ministry, don’t they? Lots of sirens and shite.’

Politely, Harry hides a chuckle behind a cough. He clearly doesn’t know yet that he doesn’t need to, that Giulia’s sarcastic sense of humour is one of the things that he’ll come to appreciate the most in this world, over the next few months. That the sound of her voice is one he’ll try to never, ever forget. That in the speech that he’ll give when he makes Head Auror, over a decade later, he’ll think of her and say: ‘Okay, let’s try to not just be sirens and shite, all right?’

This kind of tumbled out without me really thinking about it until I really looked at it and thought: fuck, why is he talking about her past tense, like that. Like “the sound of her voice is one he’ll try to never, ever forget.” Why would he forget it, though? And so, just like that, came her death sentence. For that, I apologise. It killed me too, and I cried when I wrote it in (especially when I wrote next chapter, actually, first time I ever made myself cry writing, if I’m honest) but it just needed to happen. It’s how Ginny and he get back together (I mean, obviously - is that even a spoil) because he’s grieving but she’s grown stronger and steady and she’s able to be there in a way that she wasn’t last summer. It did occur to me that god, all his mentors/father figures come to die, don’t they? But honestly, I kind of thing that his real mentor will be Robards, at the end of the day. She was just the one who allowed him to get back on his feet. 

One last note: I’ve been meaning to put this into the fic for ages but have never found the right moment to write it in. In the meantime, I’ll just say it here, because I don’t know if this has frustrated some of yous - I know it might have driven me mad. There is a logic to the Muggle/Wizard swearing/exclamations in the fic. Obviously, this is an adult fic so they swear normally, like eighteen-year-olds would in this (I decided that very early on), but also there’s “God”-s and “Merlin”-s and things like that. 

Now, I think that throughout this fic, although Harry hasn’t mentioned it yet (cause it never fucking fits anywhere) Hermione’s been having a sort of Muggle reckoning. She - in conscience - decides to start swearing/exclaiming “like a Muggle” after the war. If you notice, she only ever says “god”, never “Merlin.” Harry uses both interchangeably although he tends to use Merlin more when he thinks about wizard stuff, but God when he thinks about Muggle stuff (like when he’s with Mia). Ron only swears in “wizard” but I think he might start using Muggle expletives as well in the later chapters because of Hermione rubbing off on him. 

The fact that I even think about all that stuff is pathetic and I need to get a life. But that’s for another post, altogether. 

Anyway, thanks for reading. I hope you liked it :). 

[supertweetycherry]

DIE HARD || [iv. Girl Talks and Boys]

—Pairings: BTS x OC

—Genre: BTS Mafia Au, Slight Fluff, Angst (a lot of it), Heartbreak, Thriller

—Ratings: 18+ | MA Content | R

—Warnings: Abuse, Rude Behaviour, Fighting, Blood, Death, Weapons/Blades and Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Killing.

—Summary: She belong to them. They belong to her. It’s simple as that. Period.

—Word Count: 7k

 Navigations -> Masterlist || MASTERPOST <<Part 2 || Part 4>>

Chapter 3 - Girl Talks and Boys 

“—the local law enforcements in South Korea are still working on the case of the famous murder mystery of the Lee Enterprise executive director, Jung Jae-hee. The case has become a global interest as it is related to the world’s most dangerous and notorious gang of the decade. Tweets, news articles and unseen videos are being surfaced around the web, with ‘Bangtan’ trending on social media. It is being speculated that the notorious group of viscous killers are residing here in America, causing fear and a state-wide panic around the country. The United States government has yet to say anything official about the rumors. Till then, the focus has been shifted onto the murder case and the increasing mafia activities in South Korea—”

Yoona hummed to herself as she sipped onto her herbal tea for the tenth time in the past hour. Her small fingers cupping the warm cup as her ears continued to pick up the words of the nearest news channels playing in the large cafeteria.

It has been few days since the actual incident and people are still continuing to hear the old, recycled news over and over again. The amount of channels covering this piece of segment for the last few days has left a large gaping hole in Yoona’s ears. She was sick, tired and exhausted of it.

Yes, a murder happened in her home country.

Yes, the victim was her former boss.

And yes, the culprits might be the worldwide famous gang called ‘Bangtan’. A native Korean gang who had appeared out of nowhere.

So what? Deal with it! 

Yoona sighed loudly as she buried her face into her arms. Her ears picked up the change in the news reporter’s voice. It seemed more feminine now. Pulling her head up a bit, she glanced at the large TV as a new segment rolled in.

“—moving on, the three-day search for the two college girls in Beverly Hills has now come to an end as the local authorities here in the downtown Los Angeles, discovered a series of dead bodies in the Chinatown district of the city. A total of five girls were found, dead and tortured, with their vital organs missing from their bodies. Two of those bodies matched the description of the two missing girls while others are still unaccounted for. The bodies have started to decompose suggesting that they’ve been dead for quite a while before a citizen of Chinatown found them in a ditch near his area—”

The 26 year old groaned and rubbed her ears in frustration as the segment ate her brain up, again.  She dipped her head back into her arms, pushing the warm beverage away from her fingers. Sure, she felt remorse, pity and sadness for the dead girls but it also annoyed her that her surroundings are filled with so much of negativity. It triggered her in a way that she didn’t like.

That is until... a large folder slammed onto the white table infront of her. The loud bang that erupted from it was enough for yoona’s tired, aching muscles to tense up again. She had to hold down her cup tightly before it could jump and topple down the table due to the vibrations.

“You know, a small warning would have been sufficed.” Yoona said slowly as she threw a slight glare at the person who dared to interrupt her personal ‘me-time’.

“Bitch please. You should be happy that a mere peasant like you has the honour to be in my holy presence. Not even kings can afford me.”

This only earned the intruder a mocking eye-roll from the 26 year old beauty.

“Don’t you have work to do, your highness?” Yoona mocked as her shaking nerves relaxed. She pulled herself up and continued to drink her warm tea. But it wasn’t warm anymore.

“Not when there’s juicy gossip.” Her friend smirked before shoving the said folder in Yoona’s direction. Yoona stared at it blankly. It was black in colour and looked quite thick. “It’s about Jung Jae-hee.”

“No.”

The mere mention of the late director was enough for Yoona to do a 360 turn and never look back again. She picked up her cold tea and left the small table she was sitting on.

“Yuriii...”

“No, Suzy.” Yoona ignored her friend’s whining as she dumped her cold tea through the drain before leaving the blue coloured cup in the sink. “Why are you all so obsessed with her death? People die all the time. Just get over it.”

The little shiver in the older girl’s voice should have been enough for Suzy to stop pestering her friend. But like the stubborn chick she is, Suzy continued in her voyage to tell the new juicy gossip she had discovered recently.

Yoona didn’t like it when her only friend gave her a sudden smirk before pushing her right through the fire exit’s door and right into the stairs that suddenly appeared in her view.

“Suzy!” Yoona exclaimed when she realised that the younger girl had practically kidnapped her.

“Shush.”

“But—”

“I said shush, Yuri. I need some girl time with you. And this, my friend, is the best way we can relish our old memories, considering hardly anyone looks our way these days.”

That was true. Yoona couldn’t deny that fact. They were the noisy, cheap girls of the company. No-one gave them a second glance unless they needed a one-night stand or something. Yoona wasn’t exactly sure how they gained that reputation. She had never been active in her love life unlike her friend, Suzy. Yoona had kept herself quiet, timid and hidden most of the time. Infact, she’s a pure virgin, with no skills at batting her eye lashes at any pretty boy. So, why?

“You want us to bond over a murder case?”

“No, I want us to bond over the world’s most dangerous species... boys.” The girl exclaimed, making Yoona groan.

Boys is a topic that Yoona tends to stay away from. There are just too many old and painful memories associated with them.

“Come on, don’t be a spoil sport. There are many varieties in here.” Suzy insisted as she pulled Yoona near the steel railings where they found a clean spot to sit on. The older girl didn’t like how open and wide spread the exit was. She peeked down to see an array of blue stairs leading down to the ground floor. They were designed in a zigzag formation, continuing on and on for what seemed like, forever.

It wasn’t Yoona’s first time at being kidnapped by her friend. Suzy had done that to her many times on multiple different occasions. But today, the familiar scenery of the descending stairs was unwelcoming. Not to mention, the see-through glass that acted as the walls of this passageway was too exposing and open for her taste. She could literally see the giant skyscrapers from here with a visibility record of 100%.

Yeah... Lee Enterprise is too rich for their own good.

“So, this baby here—” Suzy held up the thick folder. “—was delivered to the queen boss this morning. And like the curious, evil person I am, I snagged it before she could have a chance to read through the papers.”

Yoona raised her eyebrows at this before shaking her head in disappointment.

“No wonder files kept disappearing around Ji-Soo. She’s too dumb to notice her surroundings.”

“Exactly.” Suzy smirked before flipping through the pages. “And that is how ARIA files must have been stolen from her desk. She really needs to invest in a good secretary.”

Yoona couldn’t help but smile at this. Her uncle’s plaything ‘ARIA’ has been unresponsive for the past few days. The files continued to be missing while no-one has any idea as to what has been going on with ARIA. The large casino building is one of their major money-making sites here in the American branch.

“Anyways, back to the topic, there’s a postmortem report in this folder indicating that our lovely girl, Jung Jae-hee, might not be so innocent as we thought.” Suzy teased, flickering to a page filled with numerous Hangul symbols. “I’m not great at reading Hangul, but by the look of this, I can tell, Jae-hee had an intimate intercourse with her killer. It was right before she was killed. How exciting is that?”

Yoona was spooked by her friend’s glazed eyes.

“Exciting? How is it exciting?” She questioned.  

“You very dumb dumb bimbo...” Suzy groaned, hitting Yoona on the head. “Jae-hee was known to have a special, unique taste in men. Whoever she chose to be worthy of her attention, was a diamond from the rarest mines. Think about all the boys that surrounded her. Danny, Brad, Jackson, Bambam and our very own, Taemin.”

The older girl scoffed at her eldest cousin’s name.

“Taemin had a crush on her?” Yoona asked, whacking her brain to remember all the interactions between the two people she despises.

“He still does. Why do you think this baby is here in my hands?” Suzy said in glee, pointing at the opened folder.

“So, what’s the point?”

“The point is that my dear Yuri, Jae-hee had an impeccable taste in men. Which means whoever she had sex with was just as impeccable as her taste. Wanna see who that could be? There are few delicious choices in here.”

The older girl felt scared at her friend’s weird taste in men. She wanted them to bond over a series of hot killers? No thanks.

“No.” Yoona said, shaking her head. “You seriously have a messed up kink regarding these ‘delicious choices’. I’m not interested.” She continued, standing up on her feet.

“Honey, you haven't experienced the dark, steamy side of the world of guns. So women up and sit down.” The younger girl pressured, tugging down on Yoona, forcibly. The force of the little tug, sent the older girl spiralling down onto her bottom.

“Ya!” Yoona shrieked but was ignored by the younger girl.

Suzy threw a smirk in Yoona’s direction before she opened her mouth to recite the names of the killers like an intimate, sex broadcast on a radio.

Yeah, she was that crazy.

“Suspect number one: Do Kyung-soo. Code name is D.O. Height is unknown and DOB is unknown. His occupation is being a freelance hot-headed assassin. He has a body count of 256 people including both women and children. He fights with his hands and bites with his mouth. Known to be very brutal with his victims and has a large thirst towards sex. He’s the maniac elf that even the local law enforcement can’t control.” Suzy read off the folder as Yoona sighed in defeat. She made herself comfortable on the stairs before glancing at the photo of the man that her friend was so intimately reading about.

“The guy looks normal to me.” Yoona commented, not feeling any kind of attraction from the young-ish looking boy. “He’s a bit cute, but not cute enough.”

“You hardly feel anything towards any boy, sweetheart.”

Yoona forced a smile back in her friend’s direction. If only her friend knew about the lost boys from her past.

“So, who’s next?”

Suzy gave a bright smile to Yoona. She patted the older girl in affection before flipping the page to the next person.

“Suspect number two: Kwon Ji-yong. Code name: G-dragon. He’s a sniper, mainly works for the local gang called ‘Big Bang’. But it says here, he’s known to have involved in various assassinations of high profile victims. He’s a bit old for our age but still, he has an impeccable taste in women. Who knows Jae-hee might have fucked him before she departed to hell.”

Yoona looked closely at the picture. The guy looked a bit familiar. Or was it his eyes that reminded her of someone?

“Wait...” she said slowly, letting an old memory resurface. “Isn’t he—”

“Yup. The one and only.” Suzy nodded, cutting her off with a wicked smirk. “Jae-hee must have been one lucky girl to bang one of the most wanted criminals in the world.”

Kwon Ji-yong, AKA the G-dragon, was one of the snipers who was involved in the assassination of Donald Trump, the deceased president of United States of America. The attack took place an year ago. Upon deeper investigations, it was revealed that a series of snipers and killers were hired to kill the president. It was a month of horror for all of Americans and the president himself. There were so many attacks, so many explosions, the streets were flooded with criminals trying to get to the 73 year old man. But in the end, it was the two Asian killers who managed to cut the old man off. And Kwon Ji-yong was one of those Asian killers. The only one who had his face plastered on every news channel.

“Wow..” Yoona gaped at the new information.

“I know right? When I saw him, I had the same reaction.” Suzy commented, running her fingers through the photo. “Too bad he's a wanted criminal. I would have loved to bang this beauty.”

Yoona cringed at the cliche.

“He has a tattoo.” She offered, trying to get Suzy’s glazed eyes off the photo. “A large insect tattoo.”

“So he does.” Her friend teased with a devilish smirk.

“And multiple ear piercings.”

“So he does.”

“He’s not good. He’s bad.”

“Doesn’t matter to me.” Suzy countered with another smirk. “After all, bad boys are known to bring the heaven to you.”

Yoona groaned at her friend’s infatuation with criminal boys. The very first year into their friendship, Yoona had discovered the crazy obsession of bad boys that lives inside the younger girl. It peeked out from time to time whenever the younger girl’s sexual frustration increased, which by the way was a lot of times. Maybe that’s why the 24 year old was no longer a virgin. The pure innocence was lost in a dark, steamy one night stand three years ago.

“You’re still stuck on that boy, aren’t you?” Yoona questioned when she saw Suzy fingering the little trinket in her neck. It was a little necklace piece shaped into a Bluebell, hanging dangerously close to her round cleavage. It always makes a bell like noise whenever it was moved by her fingers or her olive skin.

“Who?” Suzy asked, snapping out of her glazed look. She was still fingering the little necklace.

“You know... that tall, steamy, purple-haired sex god who let you ride him for hours and hours.” Yoona teased, finally enjoying the moment.

A small hue of red appeared on Suzy’s cheeks. Her lips curled into a small smile as a warm feeling entered her chest.

Yoona chuckled at the blushing young girl. That boy must have been very special to cause the great Bae Suzy to blush like a little girl.

“Hush... stop laughing. It’s not funny. We’re going off topic!” Suzy exclaimed, flicking at Yoona’s obvious giggling state. “Yuri, Stop!” The younger begged. “We have to focus on Jae-hee!”

“Oh come on!” Yoona whined, flicking at the folder. “I’m more interested in your steamy one night stand than this folder full of lazy criminals.” The words caused Suzy’s ears to turn red. “Come on, let me do the honours.”

A terrified look appeared in Suzy’s eyes. Before the younger girl could react, Yoona had already snatched the folder out of Suzi’s fingers before throwing it over the railings. It clattered down the small, narrow gap quietly before a loud thump was heard indicating that the thick file has touched down on the ground floor.

Suzy gaped at her friend’s actions before looking down the railings. Yoona followed the same movements, only to discover the large heap of flying papers still descending down the stairs slowly due to the air and their light weight. The black folder itself was lying limply on the bottom floor like a dead man.

“Y-you just... oh my god!” Suzy couldn’t form the words. She looked so shocked that Yoona tried not to look too guilty. Looks like her habits of being unpredictable were acting up again. “That was Ji-soo’s file you dumb child! I was gonna put it back. But now it’s...”

“Don’t worry, she’ll just think it’s lost like the ARIA files.” Yoona shrugged before pulling the younger girl away from the railings. “Now tell me more about your knight in the shinning armour.”

It’s funny how Yoona changed her mood so quickly. A moment ago she wanted nothing more than to run away from Suzy’s constant prodding into her dead boss’s case and now, she wanted nothing more than Suzy to tell her about the dreamy boy she encountered in her euphoric adventures three years ago. She didn’t even care about the giant stairwell that was now flooded with colourful photographs and Korean paperwork outlining the details of a very sensitive case around America and South Korea. Something that could put a lot of people in a tight spot.

“Please?” Yoona begged, trying not to cringe at herself. Suzy looked tormented between her friend and the file on the bottom floor. After few seconds, she sighed in defeat.

“Why do you want to know so much about my man, lady?” Suzy countered, not liking the sudden interest.

Yoona grinned to herself. I’m interested because then you will forget about that stupid murder case and not give me anymore of those painful headaches that I’m already dealing with. She played the words in her mind.

“Because I love a good romantic story.” She beamed at the younger girl. Lies. I hate romantic stories. They always end up with a sad ending. Like mine did.

“Fine.” Suzy agreed, still giving her friend a suspicious look. She clapped her hands before opening her mouth to recite the memorable night once again. But before she could, a loud noise from down below interrupted them. They both panicked as they heard a hoard of footsteps making up the staircase.

With no time to think, they sprinted out of the same fire exit door that they originally came through, just barely escaping the steely eyes of the eldest Lee child who was sprinting up the stairs to find the person who stole the files from his sister’s desk.

He grumbled when he couldn’t find anyone and stared hopelessly at the mess of photos and papers that covered the stairwell, revealing the origins of his illegal sources.

“Fuck.”

                                                    *******

“—it has now been confirmed that the missing vital organs of the girls found dead earlier in Chinatown, are up on the black market to be sold to the highest bidder. The local police force are trying to trace the source of origin, but nothing has been found yet. With this new killing spree, young girls are advised to stay in their homes until the culprit has been arrested. The death of these girls has raised awareness issues around—”

“I can’t believe he actually did that.” Jongin commented as he grimaced at the graphic pictures being displayed on the large TV. His elder brother who sat beside him also looked uncomfortable. “Hyung, you should keep him in South Korea. He’s too brutal for America.”

“I wish I could, Kai. But I might have pissed him off real bad this time.” Minseok admitted as he shivered at the screams he heard that day. He was a member of the mafia too. He has seen his fair share of murders and has indulged in various killings but bangtan?...  Bangtan is on a completely different level compared to him. They were ruthless and crazy-minded.

“Where is he now?”

“Honestly speaking... I don’t know.” Minseok replied with a shake of his head. He exhaled loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have a feeling he’s still here, lurking around somewhere in the city.”

A tensed silence passed through them. Their body tensed up at the thought of their cousin still roaming around somewhere in the city. It’s dangerous for that guy to be here. The man had the most unstable mind in the group despite being the oldest and most responsible. He was an obsessed freak.

“This is too depressing for my liking.” The younger joked. Minseok couldn’t help but smile at the lame joke.

“Yeah, it is.”

There was a small pause between them, before Jongin spoke again.

“I wish Chen hyung was here. I miss him.”

The words were quiet and faint to the normal ears, but with minseok’s enhanced hearing, he heard every syllable. He also heard the painful longing that was hidden behind the tone. He looked at his youngest brother with a sad smile.

Kim Seokjin wasn’t the only one who had lost his love that night. Minseok had lost one of his little brothers that day. Kim Jongdae. He usually went by ‘Chen’. He was assigned as a bodyguard for the lovely Lee Yoona, swearing and dedicating his life to protect the girl who has once saved him when he was little.

“I miss him too, bud.” Minseok replied with the same tone. He really wanted his little brother back. But it was too late. The cheerful, playful boy was gone. He died that night, taking three shots to the chest for the very girl he was trying to protect.

Unknown to the Kim family, somewhere back in their home country, in a dark, dirty cell, a man laid on the floor, whimpering from the recent torture he has just received. His face was half burnt. His body was filled with numerous scars and painful wounds. He was shaking on the cold floor as he cried himself to sleep, thinking of only one thing. His brothers.

                                                    *******

“That was a close call.”

Yoona couldn’t agree more. She was slumped down onto her soft, leathery chair, relaxing as she closed her eyes and thought about the unexpected getaway she was involved in few hours ago. All thanks to Suzy of course.  

The older girl glared at the younger girl who was invading her cubicle like a tall tree. Suzy’s eyes were focused on Yoona’s slumped state. After their hurried escape, they had separated into different directions, promising to meet up after the coast was clear.

“How can you be so relaxed, Yuri? We nearly got caught this morning!” Suzy whispered-yelled in a low voice. She was sitting on Yoona’s desk, a pile of papers acting as her cushion underneath her curved butt.

“The only thing I care about is that we escaped. And the fact that I will never let myself be kidnapped by you again.” Yoona muttered, poking a tongue out at the younger girl.

Her friend pouted.

“Oh come on!” Suzy whined. “We both know you were enjoying it.”

“Correction. You were enjoying it, I wasn’t. I was miserable.”

Wrong move.

“Fine, then be miserable forever.” The younger girl hissed before jumping off the table and leaving the workspace.

Yoona shook her head in disappointment. She was used to Suzy’s unexpected angry tantrums. Rubbing her head in complete tiredness, Yoona stood up and made her way to the furthest water station that served cold water and some cold ice cubes. Something that she truly needs to soothe the pain in her head.

Despite her bruises being healed, she still felt her body ache from time to time. The lack of a nutritional diet and her constant voyages of skipping meals produced sudden headaches and body weaknesses inside her. It sometimes affected her health in a bad way, but it doesn’t faze her even one bit. She’s careless with her existence. It’s something she has tried to work on but she never had the right motivation.

“Ahh... this feels nice.” She mutters to herself. The small bag of ice cubes was now placed against her forehead as she sipped onto the cold water quietly. The coldness from the bag was seeping into her skin, soothing the hot pain that penetrated her forehead like fire. She wanted nothing more than to fall asleep right here and then. But something stopped her.

A loud voice echoing behind her.

“ENOUGH!”

The loud volume of the voice was enough to tell her that it was coming from the nearest cabin which turned out to her uncle’s. Putting her makeshift ice bag and the water cup down, she walked further down the corridor that led to her uncle’s cabin. The curiosity cat inside her was bubbling to know the reason behind the loud voice. Her body shook in nervousness as her feet led her to a slightly ajar door. She stepped a bit closer and peaked through the small open space.

Her cousin Ji-Soo was crying as she held her right cheek with her hand. The tears that tickled down the younger girl’s face almost made Yoona regret her decision to eavesdrop. It was then her eyes travelled to the fuming figure that stood like an angry bull, pointing his angry, blazing eyes at his own daughter.

“Do you see this, Ji-Soo?” The man screeched, holding a stack of papers in her cousin’s face. “This means that someone transferred the property on their name, leaving us with no authorities over ARIA. They took possession of our one of the largest money making revenues in America. Do you know how it could affect our reputation here? Or back home? We will be mocked!”

Yoona griped the door frame a bit harder. She wasn’t surprised at the news, considering the disappearance of the property files was a dead giveaway, but she did feel a bit disappointed though. It doesn’t matter if Lee Enterprise is being controlled by her uncle right now. The company is still part of her family’s legacy. Any losses that it faces, it affected her directly. She had a sense of duty towards it. ARIA was one of the true blessings to their company. It brought a good fortune to them. So, loosing the property was a big disappointment to her.

“Appa, I swear it wasn’t my fault. I had no idea.” The younger girl whimpered as Yoona felt a pang of guilt hit her. She felt an urge to hug the girl. Despite her younger cousin’s hatred towards her, Ji-Soo was still her partially blood sister. Whether she admits it or not, they were related by blood. So, when her uncle raised her hand to hit Ji-Soo again, Yoona’s heart clenched at the sight. She held herself back from entering just in time to see another tall figure blocking the raised hand.  

Taemin.

Her oldest cousin. The brother who fiercely loved his sisters except Yoona. He stood over Ji-Soo like a protective tiger.

“It wasn’t her fault.” He said firmly, gazing into the man’s eyes who gave him birth. Yoona bit her lip in silence. She felt jealous that her younger cousin is so lucky to have such a protective brother on her side. It nearly made her miss her dead sister who promised to stay by her side forever too.

“You of all people should know that Ji-Soo would never do this, dad. The files were stolen. It’s not her fault.”

The elder man huffed angrily at his son. He exhaled loudly before returning back to his seat.

Yoona felt a bit awkward standing there. She was about to move away is when her cousin’s next words stopped her.

“I know who did this.” His voice was laced with venom. “I know who stole the papers and sold them to a bidder.” There was a forced silence in the air, before he spoke again. “The Kim Industries.”

A sudden chill went down Yoona’s back. She lost the ability to breathe for a second. It’s been years since she had heard that name.

“Don’t be ridiculous. They all died that night.” Her uncle countered, grumbling to himself.

“No, not them. Their extended family. Kim Minseok.”

Yoona felt her eyes water at the familiar name. Minseok was one of the supposed brother she had when everyone was still alive. He took care of her just like her older sister. But after that night, he never got in contact with her. She figured either the man didn’t know she was alive or he hated her for killing his brothers. Four members from the Kim family died that night. It was enough for anyone to hate her, considering they all died protecting her.

“He’s been inactive for years, son.” The eldest Lee said, resting his head on his chair. Yoona could see Ji-Soo cowering in her spot on the fancy couch. “He’s an emotional mess due to his brothers deaths.”

Guilt hit Yoona like a wave of water. Was the man she considered as her older brother was really messed up due to his brothers deaths? Does that mean he hates her?

“Kim Minseok has been very much involved with everything we have neglected, dad.” Taemin’s voice echoed through the small gap. “He’s been eating off our hands without a blink from us. I just discovered his little projects.” A slam of a heavy folder sounded among the room. “He has been gambling in the mafia since the very beginning, staying under the radar to avoid us. All the projects we have been involved in, his company, Kim industries, has been snagging them one by one. And ARIA is one of them. Even after those little bastards are dead, their family line still continued to dominate us.”

The 26 year old felt her fingers grip the doorframe tightly.

“How far off is he?” There was a thick tension radiating from the room. Everything had gone so quiet suddenly.

“Far enough to topple down the lowest of our rank in the circle.”

The circle. Yoona has heard about them before. A mysterious group of leaders. The term has come up in many of her uncle’s secret conversations when she had accidentally stumble upon them. Like today.  

There was a silence in the room before something creeked and the door she was leaning on, swung open, toppling her balance and crashing her down to the floor. She groaned slightly at the pain. That was until someone gripped her hair and dragged her into the room.

She bit onto her lips from screaming out.

“We have a pest here, dad.” Yoona gulped as she recognised the harsh voice of her oldest cousin. Her luck has finally ran out. “Let’s teach her a little lesson.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she waited for the fateful slap that would grace her cheek... but after a minute of waiting, it never came. She slowly opened her eyes to see what was happening.

Taemin’s raised hand was being blocked off by another arm. The arm that was covered in a stripy grey suit with the finest material known to mankind. Only one person in the family has a taste for rare things. Her uncle.

“Leave her.” Her uncle’s firm voice cut through the thick silence. Both of his children stood gaping at the man. As for Yoona, she was surprised and shocked to hear the words. Lee Sung-Woo has never defended Yoona before. Her uncle was the one who gave his wife and children permission to torment her with verbal, physical and mental abuse. He let them break her down into bits as he watched from his throne quietly, not giving any care to his beaten and bruised niece. So, why now?

“But dad—”

“I said, leave her.” The older man repeated the words with a dark undertone to his voice. His son shivered before dropping his hand to his side. Yoona glanced at her eldest cousin, only to see him glaring at her. Something told her that she was still in the danger zone.

The elder Lee turned to face her, his light brown eyes boring into her dark ones.

“Get up, Yoona. I have a job for you.” He said, giving her a genuine smile that raised red flags in her head. His face showed the kind features he had mastered over the years while his eyes reflected his true intentions towards her.

Still stunned by his words, Yoona didn’t move from her position on the ground. She still sat on her knees, dress ruffled at places and hair pulled out into a messy hodgepodge due to her eldest cousin’s tight grip on her.

A sudden pain enveloped her when the same man applied a bit of strain onto her escaping roots, causing her to whimper softly.

“Don’t push your luck, pest.” She clenched her jaw at his words, holding herself back from bitting at him. It will sign her an eternity of pain if she ever did.

Slowly but surely, the 26 years old beauty picked herself up from the floor. She stood on her feet with shaky legs as her uncle walked back to his leather chair in the middle of the room.

“I won’t ask you how much you have heard because I know you have heard everything.” The male spoke, rubbing his hands together. “And frankly, it’s a good thing you know this now.” Yoona was puzzled by his words. “Do you remember Minseok?” She nodded which earned her a small laugh from him. “He always stuck around you and your sister like a magnet.”

Yoona bit her lips. Was he mocking her?

By now, she has been forcibly pushed onto a chair, across from her uncle’s table.

“Do you know he hates you?” Her body stiffened. “I bet this vendetta he has going on against Lee Enterprise is because of you. I mean, you were the reason for the death of his brothers after all. How can he not hate you?” Yoona felt a chill run down her back at those words. Her chest ached at the idea of Kim Minseok hating on her. She knew he did, but it hurts a lot when someone say that to her directly. “You very well know who was the target that night.” Yes, she knew. Yoona was the target. Lee Yoona and her older sister. The offspring of the current Lee family.

“And you know why he—” Before he could continue, Yoona cut him off with her hand banging on the dark polished table.

“You don’t need to tell me the past because I know what happened.” She hissed, trying to keep her tears at bay. “I know they died because of me. What do you actually want, uncle?”

A sudden pull on her hair was enough to know that his bratty children are acting up again. She could feel the long nails behind this one. It has to be her darling female cousin.

“Let her go, Ji-Soo.”

“But appa...”

“Let. Her. Go.” The younger child growled before letting go of Yoona’s hair. The 26 year old was surprised at the sudden change in her younger cousin’s behaviour. One moment she was crying and the second she’s on her feet like a wild cat, ready to tear her apart.

“What do you want from me?” Yoona demanded after a full minute of silence.

Traces of a faint smile appeared on her uncle’s lips. He pulled something out of his nearest cabinet and slapped it down onto the table infront of her. She stared at it blankly. It was a large yellow envelope about the size of an A4 page.

“I want you to go on a little trip for me. It’s indefinite of course.” He pointed to the envelope. “All your tickets, identity papers and everything else is in that envelope. You are going to be starting a new life. A new name, a new look and a new identity. Congrats Yoona, you are the new executive director of Lee Enterprise for the Korean branch. You’re going back home.”

“What?!” Three different voices in the room screamed, and Yoona was one of them.

“What do you mean?” She asked, stunned at the words he just blurted out.

His children were also looking at him in shock. Ji-soo’s hand was curled around a nearby couch pillow while Taemin’s fist was turning white due to the pressure he was applying on the chair next to Yoona.

The 26 year old flinched when the leather of the chair curved inwards at the raw strength. She looked at her uncle in obvious shock and fear.

“We need a new person to take the position. It been chaotic in our home country. Since you are practically useless to me right now, I have assigned you as the acting head. The position is yours to work with.”

“What—No!” Ji-Soo said in outrage. “That’s my position! How could you just give it to her?”

“I don’t need to explain my reasons to you, Ji-Soo.”

“But appa—” the girl looked appalled at her father.

“Leave my office. Both of you. Now.” The direct order was cold and piercing to his children’s hearts. The man who had never raised his voice on his kids, unless they did something wrong, is choosing their dirty cousin over them.

When Yoona heard the loud slams of the cabin’s door, she lifted her eyes up to the old man.

“Let’s talk in peace, shall we?”

                                                  ********

Meanwhile, miles away from America and right into the heart of South Korea, a dark figure, clad in the most darkest attire of an assassin, battled his way through a crowd of armed men as his silver blade pierced through their bodies one by one. With each duck and with each stroke of his blade, blood spilled out onto him like splashes of water. The oncoming rain from above hit him like bullets as he rolled on the wet pavement and slashed at yet another men. His clothing that was designed in the most expensive polymer, tightened around his lean figure as he bent, jumped and rolled under various stalls to avoid the oncoming slaughter of the real bullets, aimed directly at his prominent limbs.

“Ya, hyung!” A childish voice whined from behind him. “Hurry up and save me already. I’m hungry!” A young boy said, jingling the silver metal cuffs on his wrist. He was sitting on a nearby stall, sucking onto a lollipop as armed men surrounded him.

The boy was unfazed by the ring leader who tried to make him cower in fear.

“Pali, Pali hyung!” He whined again when the ring leader tried to take away his lollipop. “Ya! You little cockroach, let go of my lollipop or I swear I’ll stuff your butthole with them.”

The assassin who was in the middle of a trio fight, shook his head in annoyance. He bent and rolled on the ground, letting his blade do the work instead.

“Aish.. this kid.” He muttered to himself before throwing one of his trusty knives at the grubby hands of the ring leader. The old, puggy man screeched in pain as his right hand is pierced by a pointy blade in the shape of a Star. “Stay the fuck away from my brother’s lollipop!”

The said brother smiled and continued to suck on the juicy blob of sugar.

Another minute passed, and the assassin’s enemies has decreased in numbers. Bodies piled up the wet pavement as the last of the armed men fell to the ground with a sliced neck. The only one remained was the puggy ring leader and his two trusted men.

“Daebak! Hyung, your awesome!” The younger boy cheered, clapping his cuffed hands together like a teenage Pom Pom girl. His light brown hair also bounced as he jumped up and down.“I feel so proud. My hyung is the best!”

The said hyung scoffed. He has heard that line several times from the younger boy on many different occasions.

“You say the same thing to others, Jungkookie.”

“No, I don’t.” The boy lied, giving the elder a huge, innocent pout. The tongue that has now turned blue due to the lollipop he has been sucking, lapsed around his puffy lips like a little boy. “Pali, Pali! Save me and let’s go for dinner.” He whined again, pouting his lips and widening his doe-eyes.

“Aish...” The said assassin grumbled before raising his sword like a true ninja. He grit his teeth and charged at the last remaining set of men.

A minute later, all three them fell lifelessly on the ground with broken limbs. The younger bunny boy cheered, jumping on the stall like a little kid.

“Yay! Let’s go for hotdogs now!”

The assassin clad in black huffed and wiped his sword clean with his sleeves. He stashed it back into its holster behind him before tugging on his younger brother’s metal cuffs and pulling him off the stall with one hard pull.

The said boy stumbled to his feet before landing on the wet pavement with a thud. His pretty, child-like face turned into a scowl as he felt the rain water seep into his black pants.

“Hyung!” He exclaimed angrily.

“This is the only favour I’m doing for you, Jungkookie” The assassin said in a husky voice as he removed his face mask. He pulled his hood back, revealing a nest of dark orange hair. “Go back home or I’ll dob on you. Next time you get kidnapped by goons, fight your way out. Don’t call me for help.”

“But it’s fun watching you fight.” The boy whined innocently. But he stopped when he noticed his hyung’s narrowed eyes. “Fine. Whatever.”

And with that he pulled himself up on his feet, discarding the metal cuffs on the ground with no help. His hands swiped another lollipop out of his pocket before he skipped away, throwing a simple smirk over his shoulders.

“I swear I’m going to skewer him one day.” The assassin mumbled before shaking his head. Who is he kidding? The bright, sunny angel inside him would never let the dark ninja kill his maknae.

Stupid brotherly bonds.

Tag List: @demonic-meatball​, @youtube-obsessed-duh​, @trinityautumn​, @original-internetmonster​, @seoul9711​, @jinniesjoon94​

[jimlingss]

pt.2 of yesterday

I don’t want to flood people’s dashes, so hopefully answering your messages here will suffice!

anonymous asked: Hi! I wanted to tell you how much I love your work and how you make me enjoy every Monday thanks to your regular updates ! I saw a previous anon telling you how your writings lacks of emotion and I totally disagree with them... obviously everybody won’t like it but your stories just DON’T lack of love or emotion this is madness I want to thank you for publishing your amazing stories freely here for everyone to read. (Sorry if my English is weird I’m french ejfjekfjd)

“this is madness” LOL

You’re hilarious, anon. And your english is perfectly fine!!!

anonymous asked: Hello! Im the culinary student anon who sent you an ask a while ago and i saw you received an ask about the lack of emotion from your stories. I read kitchen romance and i actually really really like it and don’t quite understand how it lacks in emotions as I interpreted the stories more like the beginning of the oc and jin’s love story and they are only starting to open up to each other so i guess thats why anon might feel like it lacks romantic vibe from both of the characters. (1)

Anonymous said: Just want to tell you that you’re one of the best writer and ive been following you for 2/3 years now, you never failed to amaze me with your writings!! All your stories are so well written that i sometimes wonder how do you come up with such an amazing plot every single time and your stories are always nice to re-read and the effort you pour into creating your stories is also admirable (2)

while i was reading kitchen romance and ive only started s&c (currently on chapter 4) i can say that its pretty similar with how it is irl (and the part where we find out jk is an iu fans reminded me of my ex-crush whose also a culinary student, i would like to tell you a story about it but ill just waste your time lol) , just want to send you a few encouragement and love for you and your writings *sending virtual hugs* (3) -👩🏻‍🍳anon

You’re too kind, thank you (and also, welcome back!). I’ll be frank, there was a hot second I was considering taking down Kitchen Romance but I didn’t cause I don’t want my efforts of editing it to go to waste asdfghjkl. I can’t believe you’ve been sticking around me for so long :’) it’s always nice to know some folks stay. Anyway, I’m glad that Sugar and Coffee is pretty similar to how it works irl since I tried my best to do research. I definitely love a good storytime as well so don’t worry about wasting my time :>

Anonymous said: a good majority of your fics display an unfathomable amount of DEPTH. regarding character development. plot. even the shortest lines of dialogue reveal so much more to the character and unveil their true emotions. i personally think the more REALISTIC side of love may be perceived as 'bland.' ‘emotionless.’ whatever you want to call it. nothing’s wrong with portraying a relationship that isn’t overboard with a whole lot of tooth aching fluff or lowkey annoying pda. +1

Anonymous said: there’s nothing wrong with taking out a bit of emotion to fit the PERSONALITIES of the characters. some people out there don’t necessarily feel a lot of emotions. so it’s honestly not really a mistake if a story lacks it (unless it was unintentional). subtlety is an art that is hard to master, but you’ve done it! and to respond to the anon, sometimes, if you skim through a fic without reading every word the author intended for you to read, +2

Anonymous said: then it’s quite common to not feel the full extent of the emotions you were supposed to feel. just a thought but no hate. we’re all entitled to our opinions. but besides that, kina, you write on a vast scale ranging from hardcore angst to diabetes-inducing fluff. and you do it beautifully. sure there are some stories that are better than others, but i believe a LOT of it comes down to personal preference and taste. +3

Anonymous said: even if you are feeling creatively limited, you work hard to continue writing for your readers, and your determination and diligence wILL NOT GO UNNOTICED. i just want you to know that you write amazingly. your syntax is practically immaculate, your characters feel real… the endings of your stories always wrap something up and the strings are tied—even if it isn’t necessarily a happy ending. you can convey hundreds of different characters through WORDS. +4

Anonymous said: i’ll have you know that it’s hard to write. it’s even harder to write about people who aren’t YOU. so as someone who looks up to you a lot, i want to commend you for your writing. some of your fics that i read on a monthly basis: tears of a villain, a piece of the moonlight, head over heels to hell, ghost in the machine, a mark of betrayal, a kiss of poison, until yesterday, the truth between us and arcadia. +5

Anonymous said: to be fair, there were way more fics but i didn’t want to make this message any longer than it already is LOL. i find these pieces wonderful. heart wrenching. and SO DAMN EMOTIONAL IT PLAGUES MY MIND FOR DAYS. also you’re literally one of the few fucking people who can use the em dash correctly. thank you so much for sharing your talent with us! +6

Oh my goodness. I don’t even know what to say, anon. This is a whole damn thesis and it’s about my fics :’> You know, it’s easy to brush off fanfiction as a ‘whatever’ thing and indeed, it isn’t that big of a deal compared to some things in the world. But I really do take all my stories seriously and put forth a lot of effort - so to see it recognized and appreciated it makes me beyond happy. It’s good to know that my efforts haven’t gone to waste at all and that there are people out there who will support me no matter the endeavours I take. Thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to me.

((Also, honestly I picked up the em dash usage after I wrote The Truth Between Us with gukyi who used it. I’m pretty sure I’m not using it right but to hear that I am, god damn that’s a breath of relief right there))

backtobleuside submitted: Are you kidding me!? Your stories don’t lack love at all. They’re the kind of fics that you read, soak it all in and then come back for more. I’ve cried so much when I read Beyond reach, Boo-lieve in me, A piece of the moonlight, His name, Tell me lies etc. etc, and also laughed and felt the emotions of not just the OC, but also the other characters. Kitchen Romance was also so fluffy and sweet and personally, I don’t think that anything needs to be added to it. Anyway, your fics do not lack emotion—you’re probably the first author I send a message to because your stories impacted me a lot and left a strong impression on me. I even imagine your characters as real people who have real lives that continue on even after the story is done.

asdfghjkl thank you :’) I see you every week and sometimes several times at that. I really appreciate your consistent feedback and following. You never fail to send me a message too which I appreciate a lot. I’m glad you’re enjoying everything I’m producing!!

youngfleurever said: Would just like to say that your fics do in fact make me violently sob to the boy where my eyes are so swollen I have trouble opening them the next day and I wake up feeling like there’s sawdust in my mouth because I’m dehydrated.

oh my god. please keep yourself hydrated hahahahhaha more importantly, how do you know what sawdust in your mouth is like. WHAT have you been doing LOL

Anonymous said: I’ve felt emotions that I’ve never felt before when I read your fics.... so as a person that has read your entire masterlist, I DO NOT think that your fics lack emotion.... I hope you don’t feel disheartened because you’re one of my favourite writers, not just on tumblr but like, evER 💓💓💓💓💓💓

Please, even if I was disheartened, the overwhelming amount of feedback and praise has completely overridden it :’)

joonie-mono said: when tumblr deletes the first part of your ask 🙄😌✌️

LOOOOOOOL

haylo4ever said: Sorry had to add my 10 cents. You're such a talented writer,,, I WISH I could write a smol smol 1/1000000000 that you write,,, like I remember when I followed you bc I was in awe of your writing.... I mean?? Sure maybe not every fic hits it with someone but it's just ridic to name drop (a friend nonetheless) when you're all extremely talented writers.

Trust me, writing comes with practice!! I should honestly just tattoo that on me. God knows my first fanfic was absolutely GARBAGE. I didn’t know pacing, didn’t know that I should separate chunks of paragraphs, how to write dialogue or describe scenes properly. I went in blind. Even my second, third and fourth fanfic was garbage. You could definitely get to “my level” or even far surpass it with enough dedication and practice. I mean I’ve been writing for four years, so thank GOD there’s been improvement. I wouldn’t be natural if there wasn’t. But clearly the more you practice, the better you improve! That applies to anything.

The me in ten years will certainly be better now.

Anonymous said: Hi kina! I’m here in support of kitchen romance! I actually didn’t feel like it was missing a ton of fluffy moments (and I say that as a huGE LOVER OF FLUFF) but the story was just as entertaining in the whole chase of them getting closer to each other! It’s honestly one of my favorite one shots I’ve read lately and I’m not saying that lightly! Also, that anon that said your work lacks emotion has probably not read like half of your masterlist bc oO MAN QUEEN OF MAKING ME CRY- black heart anon🖤

Thank you :’]

Anonymous said: Ok I’m very offended wow the audacity!Specially coming for my baby kitchen romance like that story made me feel so much and it’s only one of the many fics you have written kina like I’m literally baffled like dynasty has made me cry scream happy and hot all at the same time and I was literally just thinking about it that whole weekend and this anon has the nerve to say your stories lack emotions?When you are literally the queen of show casing all types of emotions in your stories!You did it all

Anonymous said: Also 😭😭😭😂😂😩hoooooooow and whereeee did they see any lack of love and emotions like have you read jungle park???? Inside my mind??? FREAKING SUGAR AND COFFEE (like this fic is made with love and I- ) Actually you know what , just read the whole masterlist😩😩💗💗💗

LOL tbh I didn’t expect Dynasty to receive the love it has. I was actually kind of wary when posting it cause it’s kind of Wild. 

bangtans-peaceful-piegon said: just gotta say u handled that whole anon thing so well which not only makes me admire u as a writer but even more as a person :] (i mean i knew u were gr8 before the whole deal but yeah love ya 💛)

tbh, I’m not sure how well I handled it cause I was flooded with over 30 messages afterwards (evidently) ;_; which I love and appreciate but I’m not really as hurt as some people think hahaha criticism should be received well but it’s still hard not to take personally tbh. It’s gonna have to be something I work on or perhaps it’ll be one of those things that I’ll take better with age.

[keflibunni]

Can you tell me about your different OCS? Like if they belong to a specific fandom or if they are just people you created because you would like yeah I can do that. I was telling my friend about my OCS and I know you have some so I'm just curious

anon i have waited e i g h t years for an ask like this, you have no idea how happy you have just made me 

99% of my ocs are all from original stories (i toyed with miraculous ladybug ocs back in the day, but nothing ever came of them, and honestly the idea of making fandom ocs nowadays makes me a little uncomfortable). ive had a pretty overactive imagination since i was a kid, which has culminated in a bajillion different stories starring a multitude of different characters over the years (i am w a y too easily inspired) 

truth be told i have a l o t of ocs (almost 100+ from around 15 different stories😬 ) so i’ll just talk about what i consider to be my main two pairs of ocs 

first up is Kitty and Brian, who you might have seen me affectionately refer to as the heliotropes: 

these two are from a story me and two friends have been working on on and off for the past seven years. they’re young super powered mutants from the year 2284, trying to solve a string of nearby mutant disappearances after the local police refuse to take the case seriously. the story is a combination of wacky teen hijinks and an exploration of what it truly means to be human (mostly just wacky teen hijinks tho lol) 

Kitty and Brian are childhood best friends who’ve endured quite the ordeal throughout their early teens. even though mutants have become somewhat commonplace amongst their society, the world still seems to be pitted against them, and they depend heavily on one another for support, especially as the story progresses. 

even tho they’re best friends, i did intend them to be complete opposites of one another in multiple ways;  

-Kitty is cold, brash, and somewhat aggressive; Brian is sweet, gentle, and a little bit meek.-Kitty has dark hair and light purple eyes; Brian has light hair and dark purple eyes-Kitty comes from a big and boisterous family, while Brian lives alone with his maman (who is rarely home due to work) 

One thing they do have in common is that they are both viciously protective of each other and their families (Kitty esp. is very protective of her younger sisters, even though they routinely get on her nerves) 

i originally wanted to publish this story as a webcomic, but frankly i don’t think it’s ever going to happen lmao. still, these two hold a special place in my heart and i still think about them a lot 🥰

second up is Sierra and Emma (i dont have a name for these two akin to ‘heliotropes’, but believe me, im trying): 

i created Sierra (originally named Sera) in mid 2017 as somewhat of a self insert character based on a series of strange dreams i had about my nana’s old house. i originally wanted to make the story into a side scrolling point and click puzzle game, until i got in RE at the beginning of last year, at which point the story did a complete 180, Sierra got a complete character revamp, and Emma was created. 

the current story around these two involves Sierra finding a contract for a job her late grandmother allegedly never had, working for a company (Miracle Enterprises) that she viciously hated. In an attempt to try and find some answers, Sierra tries to break into the former Miracle family estate, at which point she’s caught by Emma (the youngest member of the Miracle family).  

Emma is undoubtedly untrusting of Sierra at first, but after hearing her motives, she offers to help Sierra in her search, hoping that she’ll uncover more about her family’s own shady business practices along the way. 

their relationship is rocky at first - Emma grew up in a strict and sheltered environment, and she doesn’t always approve of Sierra’s bold personality and blatant disrespect for rules - but they eventually start to get along and even begin developing feelings for each other. 

the story actually gets a lot more intense (monsters, super shady businessmen, constant emotional turmoil etc.) but i don’t want to give too much away just yet 🤫

anyway, i hope that answers your query 😅 if you want to know more tho feel free to ask!! im always down to answer more questions about my ocs 🥰

[justoneday-namjoonii]

color me moonlight. V

☾ • I • II • III • IV • V • VI • VII ☽

› Summary: Some flowers are not to be plucked, for their thorns are far too sharp for any hand to graze, yet, they were chosen. She shined, light radiating from the depths of her soul. She was radiant, powerful – she didn’t know it, but a creature as beautiful she could never be bad. However, he was made to consume the light. For the light was meant to dwell with darkness just as powerful, but far more dangerous.

› pairing: Taehyung x reader/OC › genre: angst | m | fluff | sci-fi au | supernatural!au | mutant!au | hybrid!au |

- Flashback - 

November 21st, 1980

I believe my calling is to heal people, make them stronger, beautiful—better.

“Jane!” 

A wide-eyed 5-year-old came running down the hall, a sheet of paper in her hands. Lenny. She’s a carbon copy of her big sister, just a tiny version with two pigtails and a jet black bob.

“Look,” She took her paper and put it over her sister's biochemistry homework, “I drew this for you.” She had the cutest smile and her oversized shirt hung on her tiny figure adorably.

“Thank you, Lenny,” She smiles, “but mom said you were supposed to stay in bed, Doctors orders.” Jane was currently in school for her first medical degree and she takes her little sister's illness very seriously.

“But I just wanted to bring this to you.” She pouts, bottom lip poking out.

“Well, your picture is beautiful,” Jane tilts the photo to the side and furrows her brows, “who is this pretty girl?” She points to the photo illustrating a girl in a garden with a sun behind her in vibrant crayons. 

“That’s the girl I see in my dreams sometimes, the light follows her, it’s like- like the sun.” She jumped on Jane’s bed, playing with the charm bracelet on her wrist. 

She’s having the visions again. Lenny has a rare ‘disorder’ that Jane has been researching with other doctors for some time now. She sees what they believe to be the future in vivid dreams and visions, and she sees it backward. When the doctors were testing her and trying to figure out why she would get so fatigued, that’s when they found the reason.

“It does what she says and that’s how the plants grow.” She giggled, crawling off the bed and jumping into Jane’s lap.

“Wow, she must be really special if she can do that.” 

“Of course she’s special,”

She giggles, “she’s your daughter.”

“My- My daughter?...” She reiterates to make sure she heard the little girl right. When Lenny nods, a cute little grin on her face, Jane just shakes her head with a giggle. “Ok,” She gets up and scoops Lenny into her arms, 

“You officially need to go back to bed, you’re talking crazy.” 

*

*

Agent Jeon has one goal, find Y/n and take her to SRMA. 

His first attempt to capture you backfired, but with all of the research he’s doing, he should have no problem tracking you down. Nelson didn’t say much about what you could do, so he didn’t know how cautious he should be. But then again, you ran away from him, you didn’t try to fight. So that makes him wonder, do you even know how to use your powers?

“I made a list of contacts, I’m going to meet with Jung Hoseok, a friend of hers who works as an intern at the SRMA. I’m going in now to ask him a few questions,” He nods at whatever is said through the phone, “I’ll make sure he knows.” He walks up to the front desk. 

“Excuse me,” The woman looks up, “hi. I’m looking for Jung Hoseok, he’s an intern here I believe.” 

“Oh, yes. And your license please?” His brows furrow as he reaches in his back pocket to reveal his form of identification—his FBI badge. By her widened eyes, she deems is identification enough for her. She directs him to the elevators so he can go to the 4th floor. He gets on the elevator and in just a few moments, he’s walking down the hall, and coincidentally, he sees Hoseok walking by with a clipboard and a lab coat on his shoulders.

“Excuse me, Mr. Jung.” Hoseok looks back at the call of his name.

 “Hi,” He pauses in his tracks to look at Jungkook, “can I help you?” 

“Yes actually.” Jungkook shows his badge and Hoseok recoils at the sight. “My name is agent Jeon Jungkook and I’d like to ask you a few questions.” 

“Alright...but what’s this all about?” He swallows, trying to remain composed in front of the agent.

“Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”

“Sure,” Hoseok let his coworkers know he would be a minute before leading Jungkook to the break room. They both take a seat across from each other and, Hoseok twiddles his fingers as Jungkook gets comfortable, pulling out a pen and paper. 

“So,” He sits cross-legged, “how do you know Y/n?”

“We met in a class, I’ve known her for about 4 years now.”

“I see,” He writes that down, “and are you to close?”

“Close?”

“I mean, does she share a lot with you? Does she confide in you at all? or vice versa.”

“Well,” He contemplates his answer. While you two are great friends, there are some things you tend to avoid, questions about your past, questions about your family—you avoid it like the plague, “we’re close but I know there are some things she keeps form me, that’s just the kind of person she is. I don’t argue with her about it, she gets upset if I pry too much.”

“That makes sense.” He nods, “What do you know about her involvement with The 1989 Project?”

“I don’t think she has any...Every time I bring it up, she changes the subject or talks about how she doesn’t believe it. She knows I work here but mutants freak her out.” Jeon nearly laughs, Hoseok definitely isn’t aware of the truth.

“I see,” He scribbles a few things down, “and has she ever come to the SRMA for any reason at all?”

“I’m not sure, I told you we really don’t talk about the SRMA. If I’m completely honest, there’s not a whole lot I know about her. I do know a bit about her past, what she does for a living...She even confides in me at times, but-...I don’t know, I worry about her.” Hoseok is reminded of the message you sent him this morning about you staying at a friend's place—that’s very out of character for you.

“When was the last time you spoke with her?”

“This morning actually, I texted her to tell her I was returning a book but she wasn’t home. She said she was at a friends house, I’m not sure what friend though.” Jeon asks for your number and Hoseok reluctantly gives it to him.

Jeon sighs, closing up his notebook before standing to his feet. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Jung, I truly appreciate it. If you have any information on her whereabouts, please, don’t hesitate to give me a call.” He walks out of the room with swiftness. “Have a good day-”

“Wait, what’s going on? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” That was a half-truth, “this is just an extra precaution we take when we think we have a potential lead.” Hoseok’s brows furrow and his stomach churn at the term—lead. At the SRMA, when a lead is admitted, that means a potential subject of The 1989 Project. 

“A lead? You think she’s a part of that? That’s impossible, she can’t stand the mention of it...” Hoseok shakes his head at the FBI agent’s implication that you, of all people, are a product of Jane Sato. That’s absolutely ridiculous.

“You can never be too careful these days, it could be anyone.” 

This is not, by any means, your best blouse—but it’s as good as you’re gonna get until you can go buy a new one. 

You buttoned up your dress pants, slipped your day-heels on, and walked out of your room to see if Taehyung was out there. He was in the kitchen like always, pouring hot water into a portable teacup. When he looks up, you ease out of your room and it makes him smile. He had gotten up a lot earlier than you, around 2 o’clock in the morning to be precise. But instead of staying with you, he opted for going to his bedroom and sleeping there. Lately, he’s been getting these waves of pain in his head, like little tremors of headaches and it was difficult to sleep. Even when he went to his room, he had to take a few ibuprofen to get a little shut-eye. And there you are, looking like sunshine and moonlight tied up in one beautiful creature.

You walk into the kitchen. “Good morning...”

“Good morning, are you ready for your first day?”  

“Yeah.” Not really. “Are you sure I should start today? Or should I even be doing this in general...” 

“I don’t see why not.”

“The whole city is paranoid and there are people looking for me.”  

“The city has always been paranoid. But you don’t have to worry, they don’t have a bunch of pictures of you so no one's gonna easily  recognize you.” He seems to underestimate the paranoia that some people have. You sit on a barstool at the island and grab one little vine of grapes from the bowl he had out with various fruit. “Just hide in plain sight, you’ve done it all this time.” He retorts, raising his brows when you frowned. 

“I’m not really hidden anymore...”

“You’ll be okay, just keep a low profile.” He grabbed his bag off of the chair beside you, you scurried to get your purse and trailed behind him. He locks the door you two are on your way.

The commute was nice, quiet, but nice. You two didn’t talk too much, you asked him simple questions about what you’ll be doing, what time you get off, things like that. He had a lot on his mind, you could tell by the way he seemed to zone out at red lights. He pulled in to his designated parking spot and pulled the keys out of the ignition.

 “I’ll try not to interact with you.” You speak up all of a sudden. “People might start suspecting things,” You nibble your bottom lip anxiously, “about me and why I was transferred here...Why I was in the inner city now I’m working in the North Heights, and arriving with the CEO...” He admits that you do have a point. 

“Ugh,” You drop your face in your hands, “who do I need to introduce myself to? I have a supervisor, right?”

“Yes, you’ve met her, Margeret.” He got out of the car and you followed him, your steps steady and deliberate. Taehyung walks confidently as if the ground was lucky to be graced by his steps. “She’ll tell you what to do.” 

“Okay...” You two walk into the elevator and when the doors close, he looks down at you, a grin on his lips. You furrow your brows when he continues to stare. “What’s that look for?”

“I like your top, it suits you.” He diverts his gaze, that grin still present on his lips.

“Oh...” You glance down at the basic blue blouse and you almost smile at the compliment. “Thank you.”

When the elevator stops at the desired floor, he steps out first and you follow with timid steps. You realize you’re back on the same floor you were called to the last time. Margeret is already walking from the coffee station with a cup of coffee and a smile.

“Good morning Mr. Kim.” She greets him with a bow and a smile. “The progress report for the Milan group  

“Thank you, Margeret,” Taehyung shuffles you forward with a hand on your back, “you remember Y/n, don’t you?”

“Yes sir, I remember.” She kindly smiles at you.

“She will be under your supervision from this day forward. Anything you need to be done, she can do it for you.” You could have sworn he said you’d have a job inspecting cameras or something, but being an assistant ain’t half bad.

“Oh,” She looked a little surprised but that expression quickly returned to a smile, “alright.” She turns to you as Taehyung walks into his office and closes the door.

“Y/n, I’ll have your work in the file room, for now, follow me please.” She walks behind her desk area and opens the door to the room back there. When you maneuver your way in front to get a better view of what’s in there, you’re met with a little office with a computer and some file cabinets.

“I need you to document the costs of each manufacturer and compare it to the preferred budget. If you could bring me what you’ve documented in the next two hours, I’ll have your next assignment.” 

“Okay,” You shuffle into the room and she closes the door, “okay...”

After a few minutes of figuring out the system, it doesn't take long before you’re typing up the first price comparison. Albeit boring, it is kind of nice to have a set list of things to do. Your other job wasn’t bad but unpredictable phone calls can be very stress-inducing, extremely so. Let’s just say, you partook in quite a bit of wine after the Christmas sales. 

Your new little job was going well until the screen froze and the screen turned blue. “What the heck...” You type a string of random numbers to maybe get the screen back to normal, but it does nothing—it might just need an update or something. You wait for a little bit, thinking it might go back to normal soon but nothing changes.

Meanwhile, you had tiptoed to the door to hear Margaret. She asked to speak with Taehyung and both of them are in his office, for some reason you were uncomfortable with the idea—but you shouldn’t be, right?

“What did you want to talk about?” Taehyung swivels in his chair slightly and Margeret stands with an uncharacteristic anxiousness that he quickly picked up on. 

“Mr. Kim, I hope this is not out of line but...Who is that girl?” She finally confesses what he knew she'd been thinking. “I just don’t understand. She came from the downtown office per your request, now she’s working here.”

Taehyung has a thoughtful expression, she’s not wrong to have her suspicions. But if he’s honest, he rather not explain the whole situation right now. 

“She’s just a bright employee that I think is valuable for the company. I can’t imagine how that would bother you.”

“Sir,” She made that face she always made before saying something truthful, “I’m always honest with you, right?”

“Yes, you’ve never tried to sugarcoat the truth,” He furrowed his brows, “why?...” Don’t say what I think you’re gonna say, don’t say what I think you’re gonna say-

“She just seems-...I don’t know, out of place. She’s a sweet girl and all, but you’ve never treated someone the way you treat her. You don’t like extra unnecessary people, that’s why you got rid of my last assistant.” He can’t deny that she has a fair point.

“What are you trying to say?” 

Now he’s getting annoyed.

“I did my research on her when I first met her, like I do all of your visitors, for your safety. And she’s not the most well-off woman in the world, I mean she worked downtown as tech support and she has no family out here.”

“Say what you’re trying to say.”

“Your father never did anything like this, what do you expect me to think? I think she’s a desperate young woman who’s found what she thinks is a cash cow. I think she’s a sugar baby.” 

She says that last part so cautiously—but you hear it loud and clear.

He’s shocked—and you’re offended. 

“Excuse me?” 

Is she serious right now? You hiss to yourself in the stupid little closet she put you in. Her hurtful words trigger sadness in you and you’re on the verge of tearing up. You are fully aware that she’s close with Taehyung and his father, but that’s just too much opinion to give. She has no right to research and ridicule the people Taehyung chooses to have around him. How can she be so quick to judge? Either way, you refuse to be supervised by someone who thinks so little of you.

You walk out of that room and with all the courage you could muster up, you knock on the office door. You noticed that their conversation comes to a halt when they hear you knock. You can feel Taehyung’s frustration radiating off of him in heavy waves. He is quick to open the door and his heart sinks into his stomach at the sight of you—he knows you probably heard everything.

He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out.

“Sir,” He winces at the way you address him, “This isn’t gonna work out...” 

You shoot Margeret a knowing-look but she avoids looking at you – that heifer. Before Taehyung can say anything, you’re storming off, and you know for the sake of hiding your true relationship, he has to keep himself from following you.

Margeret messed up.

“Look what you did!” He raises his voice for the first time and she’s surprised by his reaction.

“She fucking heard you.” You could have heard her if you were across the street but that’s beside the point.

“Taehyung, I have to be honest, if she eavesdropped and got butthurt, that’s not my problem. I don’t know her but I do know this-”

“You’re right, you don't know her.” He spat, cutting her off. His eyes are suddenly physically feeling like they were on fire. “You don’t know shit about her Margeret, and you were way out of line.” 

Her eyes widen, she has never ever, in her life, been scolded by Taehyung. She stands unsure for a moment before opening her mouth to say something, but closing with her head hung low. 

“I apologize, sir...I didn’t mean to offend you, I just-...I’m a married woman and I’ve seen these young single girls trying to make a financial mess of people's lives and I don’t want it to happen to you...I said what I said out of concern for you, I’m sorry if my delivery was poor.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, he dismisses her with a hand. It takes him a moment to process how he’s going to get you back and make up for his secretary’s bluntness. 

But you’re running down a flight of stairs, anger, and insecurity bubbling in your chest. Not only that, but your hearing went through the roof and you feel like anything you touch might melt. You’re burning up.

You’re not sweating, but it’s that same energy that burns. The energy you feel when you’re on edge and about to blow a light bulb or something—I need some water.  

When you reach the last flight of stairs, you practically leap to the exit. The cool air outside hits your face but you don’t care, you need to catch the first bus to downtown- oh wait, that’s right, you’re wanted. Public transportation is not an option right now, walking it is. With your light-weight jacket and little shoulder bag, you walk with your head considerably low, to avoid eye contact. Everyone is looking at me, they all know it’s me, they know it’s me. You took a deep breath and continued to stroll down the busy sidewalk. Unfortunately, you get stopped at a pedestrian walkway, and that’s when you look up. 

Oh no.

The agent that tried to take you away is standing on the opposite side of the street and he’s looking directly at you. For a moment, you pray he didn’t recognize you, but when he presses a finger to his ear, still maintaining eye-contact, he says, ‘I just found her, stand by.’ You book it out of there. Instead of waiting for the light, you make a right to try and lose him but he’s mirroring your path on the opposite street. 

“No, this can’t be happening,” You bite your lip, eyes searching for an alley or something you can run into, “why, why...” 

You make a sharp right into what looks like a slum infested alley beside an abandoned building. You look back and the agent is crossing the street and you freak out. You run into the old building and you instantly regret it when you get inside. It smells like urine and old wood since your sense of smell has been heightened lately, it smells a lot worse than it probably is. It’s an old abandoned restaurant, it’ll suffice for a suitable hiding spot. You can hear Jungkook’s footsteps approaching and you run as quietly as you can to hide behind the 20-foot bar that took up most of the little place. 

The wood creeks under your weight and you know he knows you’re in here. 

“Miss Y/L/n,” You cringe, “if you know what’s best for you, you’ll come on out.” He pulls the stun gun out of its holster and walks armed and prepared to fire at any moment. 

You can hear his footsteps approaching and you crawl as quietly as you can further down the expanse of the bar. 

You scream when you feel his hand on your wrist. “No!-” 

He managed to sneak up behind you and when you try to run, he turns you around and tries to cuff you. “Stop resisting!”

“Let go!” You yank against his hold, causing your self more pain than anything. “Let go of me! Let go-”

“You are being taken into custody for violating statewide protocol.” He proclaims as if that means anything to you.

“Let me go, I didn’t do anything wrong! I- I just-” You are becoming more and more worked up, eyes squeezing shut in frustration.

Jungkook is steadily trying to cuff you when he catches the eye of your hands and your wrists that are covered and glowing with luminescent veins. 

“Whatever you’re doing,” Jungkook leans in to hiss a threat into your ear, “you need to stop, right now.”

You’re confused unto what he’s referring to until you open your eyes and you can feel the familiar energy coursing through you—this is your chance, you can use your powers to get out of this. You’ve never really tried to do this before but there are very few options on the table now. You focus on bringing all of that feeling to your fingers. He’s speechless. He’s witnessing what looks like a light traveling down to your fingertips. Nope. He is not about to fight someone who appears to conduct electricity through their body, that's not within his pay grade.

Before you could even do anything, you feel a sharp pain in your neck and you fall unconscious. 

“Now this,” He supports your suddenly limp body before you fall to the floor, “is what I was trying to avoid.” He keeps you up with one hand before whipping out his cellphone to make a call.

‘Tell me you have her this time.’ Nelson said over the phone.

“Send a car and I’ll have her at the SRMA within the hour.”

Jungkook hung up, Nelson dialed Jane’s number immediately after.

Today is jogging day and she just hit the 3-mile mark. She decided to stop at a park bench to catch her breath before starting up again, and that’s when she got the call.

“Jane, Jane,”

Nelson spoke hurriedly over the phone, 

“they have her.”

She felt her heart beat faster and a smile crept onto her lips, and tears to her eyes. “Really?...”

“Yes. She’ll be proofed through the SRMA then I’ll her transferred to the facility, and then you can see her.” He knows she’s excited by the fact that she’s barely saying anything. 

“Is- Is she okay? They didn’t hurt her did they?” Nelson only smiles at the protective attitude towards you, even though she hasn’t seen you since you were an infant.

“Our best agent was on her case, no harm came to her. I can guarantee that.”

“I’ll be in the facility tonight, don’t let anyone do anything to her, got it? I don’t know how evolved she is.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

It’s quiet now—you can’t hear anything, barely even your own breathing. You’re laying on a small bed, head throbbing as soon as you moved to sit up. You were wearing a loose white shirt and long pants.

They got you.

All you remember is kicking this guy, getting hit on the head, and here you are. Taehyung was nowhere to be seen before you went unconscious.

You’re afraid, deathly afraid. When the man clamped a metal brace around your wrist, you panicked. All the lights blew, you felt a sharp pain in your neck and that’s all you can remember.

Just when you considered getting out of the bed, the door opened. Your heart sank into your stomach and you bit your lip, waiting to see who it was.

It was a woman, she looked about 40 or 50. For a moment, she just stared at you, eyes drifting from your face to your wrist, her eyes immediately furrowed.

She took a step into the room, closing the door as she continued to approach you. From what you can tell from her exterior, she’s harmless. But who is she?

“Did they hurt you?” She sounded concerned, her eyes saddening at the sight of contraption they put on you. “I told them not to touch you unless absolutely necessary…and they go and put this thing on you.” She reaches out to touch your arm and that’s when you go on the defense again, jerking away from her. She looks as if she regrets

“Where-…Where am I?” You seethe, clenching the sheet in your fists.

“You’re safe now…” She wears a sweet smile. “You don’t have to worry.”

“Who are you?…”

She doesn’t answer you, instead, she extends a hand in wonder. Her eyes are scanning you, analyzing your entire face.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” She sighs, “but you grew up to be so beautiful, Yves.”

You just stare at her, in shock—in terror. Mr. Kim told you who gave you that name, the woman who started this mess. So this is her. She’s the person responsible for your parent's brainwashing and their inevitable demise. Because of her, you grew up disgusted with who you are, you were convinced that you were a mistake.

All those years, your entire life had gone by with you assuming you’d never understand why. Why this was done to you, why anyone would basically sacrifice pieces of someone’s humanity without consent.

“My name is Jane,” She smiles, “Jane Sato.”

June 10th, 1981

“Happy birthday Lenny!”

The giggly 6-year-old blew out her candles and smiled when her mother began to cut her a huge piece of cake—probably too big for her little self. The party was a nice change for the rigorous studying Jane has been doing for school. She had just proven her research case study and her senior biochemists and doctors have been wanting nothing more than to work with her in opening her own center.

Unfortunately, after getting her slice of cake and watching Lenny open her presents, she had to get on the computer to work on some things. Jane sits at the living room table while her family watches a movie with Lenny and at times like this, she wishes she was gifted with a mind that required so much work.

“Jane,” Lenny suddenly hops off the couch and runs up to Jane with her new flamingo stuffed animal, “what’re you doing?”

“I have to write this paper that explains a patients condition, I’m sorry I’m doing this on your birthday, my deadline is tonight and I procrastinated,” Jane sits back from her computer and Lenny takes a seat on one of the stools with her poofy purple tutu.

“It’s okay, you always say ‘a doctor has a big responsibility,’ so I get it,” She replies rather maturely with a sweet smile, “I’m not mad.”

“How are you enjoying your day? Did you like the canvas and paint set I bought you?”

“I love it!” She smiles brightly. “How did you know I wanted it?”

“I just knew.” Jane simpers.

“Oh! Oh! I made you something this morning, let me go get it!”

Jane furrows her brows and waits for Lenny to come out.

“Here,” She comes stumbling in with her sketchbook and sits back in her seat, “I saw him in my dreams.”

When Jane looks a the piece of paper, she is at a loss for words. It’s a drawing of a boy in a pond of wilted flowers, a murky looking forest surrounds him, and dead animals lay at his side. This is the darkest drawing Lenny has ever created and it makes Jane’s heart sink at what this dream might mean. “Wow, um…Are those dead animals?”

“Yes, he controls the air…and he takes the energy of living things, it kind of scares me a little bit…” That made Jane even more worried because Lenny’s dreams never scared her. “But just a little, he’s actually a good person. He likes flowers, trees, he especially likes the sunlight.” She smiles.

“So, um, who is he? Does he have a name?”

Lenny hesitates, eyes drifting from Jane to the photo before giggling. “You should know his name,”

“How would I know his name?”

“He’s your son.”

He hasn’t heard from you since you walked out and you won’t answer any calls, it’s almost been 24 hours. It’s well into the morning and there’s not a trace of you anywhere. Maybe you were more than just offended by Margaret, maybe you’re angry—angry at your situation, angry at him for putting you in this position. But he doubts that you would just leave without telling him something. But he doesn’t know you, know you. He may have a connection with you but he hasn’t had much time to really pick up on your patterns and such. He can’t feel you anymore and that’s what scares him.

Taehyung resorted to his safe haven, his father’s home.

“I don’t know what to do.” His hand tightly held up a cup of green tea as he had to consciously make himself blink.

“And you said the last time you saw her was at your job,” He made a plate of stir-fry for him and Taehyung, knowing that was his son’s favorite, “why did she walk out?”

“Margaret wasn’t too thrilled that I brought her up from the downtown office to headquarters. I was shocked, she was going on about how she could be a gold digger and she even looked her up on the internet to screen her herself! I can’t believe her, she said she was trying to keep me safe but she was out of line. And of course, Y/n heard all of it. She came and told me that she didn’t think things were gonna work and then she just left.”

“Taehyung,” He took a seat, fork in hand, “she was hurt. On top of that, she’s probably worried about everything that’s going on with SRMA trying to screen everyone. And I haven’t known her for very long but I have a feeling that it takes a long time to gain her trust, just be patient.”

He sighs, not convinced that he should take the patient approach to this. “But I’m afraid something bad might’ve happened to her.”

“Maybe she went home- His father is cut off by the buzzing of his cellphone. The caller ID was unknown, yet, something in him felt the need to answer it.

“I’m sorry Taehyung, give me a minute, I should take this,” He quickly gets up and exits to the room, leaving Taehyung to dwell on his worry for you by himself.

He answers the phone and awaits the voice of whoever’s on the other end.

“Hello, is this Kim Taewoo?”

The female voice sounds the slightest bit familiar and his brows narrow.

“Yes, who am I speaking with?”

“It’s Jane…”

He nearly drops the phone and his eyes widen. “Jane…I haven’t heard from you in years, what’s going on?”

“I thought you’d be happy to hear from me,” She lets out a nervous laugh, “especially after all that’s happened. I just wanted to let you know that I-.” She pauses, silence filling his ears until she speaks again. “I’m doing well.”

“That’s great to hear Jane, now I’m sorry to sound so blunt but why are you calling?”

“I wasn’t going to tell anybody about this but I felt like I could trust you,” She takes a deep breath and sighs, “I found one of the children.”

“One of the children? I don’t know what you mean.”

“From the Flower Garden,” She’s surprised as to why he even asked that, she knows he remembers her taking him there, “I think it’s Yves. You remember, she was Winnie and Joon’s little girl, she has the full M2 gene through Winnie.”

“What?…How is that possible? I thought all of the children were lost and sent off to other countries, how could one end up here?”

“I thought so too, but none of the subjects from the other projects were like this. This has to be her.”

“And you’re sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. We plan to run tests today, hopefully we’ll find out what we can do.” She pauses, “I’m sorry, I have to go, but please, don’t tell anyone.”

“Wait, Jane, you-”

Dial tone.

She tucks her phone into her pocket when she heard the second knock on her office door. “Come in.” The door opens and she looks up, “Senator,”

“I came back as soon as I heard,” He sits he briefcase on the chair near the door and smiles at the petite doctor. “agent Jeon told me he was able to get her. How is she?”

Jane breathes, taking a moment to compose her thoughts.

“She’s fine, a little on edge but she’s okay.” She sits down, head shaking in disbelief, “I can’t believe I actually found her, she’s my life’s work…”

“What was so special about her? You said all of the children in the Garden were closest to pure offspring of the M2 gene. Why is she so different from the other children?”

“She’s one of the few that I was able to begin mutation on her almost as soon as conception. She’s one of the closest things to M2 carriers of the past, my hope was that she would grow up getting help with her abilities, but she’s been alone all these years and I’m not even sure when she started showing signs.”

“But she does have the abilities?”

“There’s no way she could not have them. The way she was designed, her energy is in sync with living organisms, light, electricity, she can control it and sense it.”

“Wow,” Nelson steps back, “then she’s more powerful then the others you’ve told me about. And she’s the only one like that, that’s amazing…”

Jane brushes her hair back, shaking her head. “She’s not the only one, she has a coequal.”

“What? You never mentioned that,” He furrows his brows, “she had a twin?”

“No, no, she’s an only child. There was another woman, I found her at an adoption clinic. I told her about my work and she trusted me to take care of him after he was born. It was only a few weeks after conception when I started work on the baby, the alterations for him were just as intense as Yves. Both of there mothers had similar symptoms during their pregnancies but his mothers were more draining. I had to monitor her closely because he would deplete her energy, make her really sluggish, almost to the point where she’d pass out. While he is Yves coequal, his power is- It’s the opposite. He sucks up energy.”

“Did you make them like that on purpose?”

She bites her bottom lip in thought, “I did, I hoped that one day they’d parent the first pure M2 child.”

“So why aren’t we looking for him?”

“Because he-…He’s gone. I don’t know how they did it, but someone took all of them and sent them away. It’s out of pure luck that we found Yves, I highly doubt he’s even in this country.”

“Hypothetically,” Nelson makes a thoughtful expression, pacing with a hand under his chin, “what if we did find him, what if we had them both together?”

“Well, they’re a dyad. If they were to come together, use their powers, honestly…There’s no limit to what they’re be capable of, I really don’t know the extent of their abilities.”

“Well,” Nelson looks down at his watch, “I have a meeting in 20 minutes, whenever you think she’s ready to meet me, let me know.” He picks of his briefcase and closes the door with a click.

Jane cringes, thinking of the truths she withheld from him.

She loved Yuma like her own, but she never knew how to get past the dream that Lenny once shared with her. The little boy in her dream was Yuma—the child was capable of draining the life from animals, plants, anything living. What he could do with it, Jane had no idea, but she feared finding out.

- Flashback -

The hallways were your least favorite, it’s what you hated most about school.

Girls congregating near your locker, talking, they’re always talking. Some boys, they’re really loud and they like to run past you and everyone else minding their own business. It takes a while to sneak through the people walking to their classes, or whatever they’re doing. Only when you fight your locker to open it do you see your academic advisor looking at you, it looks like she’s trying to say something. Oh hell.

“Miss, Y/L/n, can I see you for a moment?”

You pop out your earbuds and stick them in your pocket, this should be fun. You pull your hair forward, dragging your feet to enter that wretched little office.

“Hi, Mrs. Williams,” You deadpan, taking a seat in the gray chair that you’re all too familiar with.

“Y/n, I heard you got into a fight.”

“Did you?” You sigh.

“Y/n, don’t give me that.” She’s heard your B.S for years now. “What happened? They said you were in the cafeteria, Lena Bale and you just fell out.”

“She doesn’t know when to shut up…”

“Y/n, you can’t keep getting into situations like this. That’s not gonna look good on your record if you ever plan to-”

“I don’t plan to do anything.”

“Don’t say that…” She takes her glasses off, auburn hair falling on her face when she presses her temples. “Tell me what happened.”

“I stepped on her foot by accident and she just went off, she ripped off my earphones screamed at me. I flipped my tray at her…She overreacted.” “Sweetheart, I know it’s not easy, but you have to try to be the bigger person. Your aunt has asked me to look after you, and I want you to keep your head on straight, keep you on the right path.”

“For what?!” You stand up. “Why does any of that matter to you? I’m tired of everyone thinking they know what’s best for me, like they think I have some bright future at a perfect college, with a perfect major, a perfect family, and perfect friends. That’s never gonna happen for me!”

“So, you saw the news last night then.” You deflate instantly, sinking back into your seat when you think of what you saw. It hurt you to hear them re-tell the story on the anniversary of the fire, of how so many people perished. including your parents.

“I knew Winnie, we went to the same college.” She’s told you that more times than you can count. “And you’re just like her, you have so much heart, but you have to learn to let people in, let people see who you really are.” You want to cry because you hate who you really are, who you really are has never been accepted by anyone. You want to curl into a corner and cry, but you can’t do that.

“Now, get to class.” She rubs your shoulder and you get to leave, earphones returning to your ears.

You’re taken from your sleep when you hear a knock on your door, by the breathing, the field of energy surrounding the individual, Jane Sato.

The door opens and you quickly shuffle out of bed, standing to your feet. When she enters, you see your clothes in her hands, they look washed and folded.

“We washed these for you,” Her black hair sits at her shoulders and her face looks as kind as it was last night, “I thought you might want to put them back on.” She sits them on the end of the bed and keeps her distance.

“I know you’re probably confused and that’s understandable. But I want you to know that we don’t mean any harm, you’re here for your own safety.”

“You kidnapped me for my own safety?” You finally speak.

“The news stations have speculated that there’s a, for lack of a better turn, Sato-cross experiment, on the run for the while now, I assume it was you.” She sits on the end of the bed as you walk towards the window that seems to give you the view of what you think is SRMA’s medical city.

“Why do you think that?” You play dumb.

“Yves,” She stands up and walks towards you, “you don’t have to hide around me.” She places a hand on your shoulder.

“That’s not my name. My name isn’t Yves,” You shy away from her hand, “it’s Y/n.”

“I’m sorry, Y/n. Listen, I know you’re upset, but you have to understand, I thought I’d never see you again. Your mother, Winnie, she said if anything ever happened to her, to take care of you. After the fire, all of the children like you were gone and sent off without my knowledge, I couldn’t forgive myself,” Her head hangs low, guilt clawing at her chest. “but here you are.”

You stare at her silently, eyes sweeping over her with the utmost apprehension. She doesn’t mean any harm, you know that much, but this is a lot to take in. Life for you was awful because of this woman. She made something, she took someone and changed their fate for her own desires.

“So, you knew my parents,” You sigh, placing your hand on the window, “they were like you,”

“They believed in my work, believed that people like you were possible. Gifted people who hold powers and ability’s unseen for centuries.”

“People like me,” You have to scoff, it’s amazing how she speaks about you with such high regard, “look…I can’t stay here.”

You quickly step past her to grab your clothes but she grabs your arm before thinking. “Wait-” Regretting her decision immediately, she holds her hand to herself, wincing.

“I- I’m sorry,” You panic, dropping the clothes and walking far from her, “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“No, no! it’s not your fault. It’s your body’s defense mechanism, like a deterrent, I was pretty sure you’d develop this. Has this happened a lot in your life?”

You nod.

“Y/n, have you ever been to a doctor?”

“No- Well, when I was little, but that’s about it, I don’t really get sick.”

“Please, just let me look at you,” She pleads, “your anatomy and your DNA isn’t like ours, it’s delicate and I want to make sure you’re okay. Please, I can tell you about your parents, we can talk about your powers, anything you want to know.”

Your parents? There had been very few people who could tell you about them. It was always the same run-around about them being scientists and doing their own thing. No one had ever really told you about who they were as individuals, why they were so passionate about their work with at the SRMA. This woman has all the answers, and all you have to do is withstand a little check-up.

“Fine.” You pick up your clothes and sit them on the nightstand. “But I need to make a phone call, I need to let my friends know I’m okay-”

“I’m sorry, but we have a strict policy of no phone usage on this side of the center, after the check-up I can take you to the garden and you can call there. You’re welcome to freshen up before you come to the lab,” She stands in the door frame, “I’ll have my assistant bring you.”

She leaves with a kind smile and when the door closes, you rip through your clothes in search of your phone. They took your phone. There’s no way for you to contact Taehyung, but he’ll find a way. Something in you tells you he’s looking for you.

He’s worried about you.

“I haven’t heard from her in a while,” Hoseok closes his laptop and gathers his books, “I had an FBI agent come to question me about her.”

“Seriously?” Wendy stops typing and takes her glasses off in thought. “Geez, I hope she’s not in any trouble,”

“I can’t imagine her being in any trouble,” Hoseok defends, knowing Wendy had always had an aversion to your ambiguous past, you didn’t seem to have any family anywhere when you all met. Wendy has always been curious.

He even called your job yesterday, they said you had been transferred to another branch of the company. When they directed him to the new number, the woman on the phone said you weren’t in. “I’ll see you Wednesday, I’m taking off tomorrow to dog sit at my sister’s place,”

“Well, have fun, I’ll let you know if I hear from her,” She waves him goodbye, eager to get back to her internet surfing.

On his drive to his sister’s house, all he can think about is you. He doesn’t have a clue on where you might be, you haven’t answered texts, emails, calls, nothing. In his effort to settle on a conclusion of your whereabouts, he remembers you telling him that you were with a friend. Oh no, no, no. What if that “friend” is the reason for your disappearance? He knows some of the things you’ve been through, the very few unfortunate relationships you’ve experienced. That what scares him the most. He recalls vividly when you were fresh to the city, you came over his apartment with Wendy and his roommate Jin, because your car battery died. It was too late for you to be out by yourself so he convinced you to stay. In the dead of night, when he got up to use the bathroom, he found you on the back patio, wide awake.

He asked if you were okay, genuinely searching for an answer when you nodded. In the smallest of voice, you said, “I can’t sleep in a place where there are people I don’t know,” you had just met his roommate that night, “I’m sorry, I know I probably look silly, it’s nothing against your roommate, I just-…It’s hard for me to relax, y’ know?” You laughed, your eyes glimmered with a hint of sadness for a moment.

That night he saw you. The sides of you that you hid in front of everyone, the sides that made you vulnerable—your fear. He saw a glimpse of your true self and it made him feel closer to you. He stayed up with you that whole night, and you talked until sunrise.

After that, he made a promise to himself to always check on you. He assumes that you have since gotten over that fear, or maybe you haven’t, who knows.

He parks his car, glad to have made a speedy arrival to his sister’s place so he can get some rest. When he takes his weekender out of the car, he used his key to get inside to greet her hyperactive puppy. He coos over her like always, picking her up and taking her to the couch where he switches on the TV. He doesn’t pay much attention to it, he just uses it as background noise to his scrolling through his phone.

That’s when he gets a call from an unknown number. Hoping it might be you, reluctantly, he answers.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Jung Hoseok?”

“It is, who is this?”

The voice is deep, distinct, definitely not someone he knows.

“I’m a friend of Y/n’s, I just wanted to know if you’ve seen her this morning or last night even-”

“Wait, wait-” He stops the mystery man on the other end, “are you the friend she said she was staying with?”

“Yeah,” He answers plainly, “but she left yesterday and I haven’t heard from her. I was worried so I called the only number she’s contacted within the week, have you heard from her?”

“No…I’ve been under the impression that she’s been with you. Who are you? She’s never mentioned you before and it’s not normal for her to just stay with anyone, are you related to her or-”

He hangs up.

“He hung up,” Hoseok looks down at the phone in shock, “who is that guy…”

Hoseok is beyond worried now, he needs to know the true identity of this supposed friend of yours. He looks down at the number and decides to throw it in a search engine to see if he can find anything. The first few digits aren’t super familiar, he doesn’t know many people with that area code. The results that pop up don’t help him too much, but it shows that the number is calling from The North Heights. Since when have you had friends over there?

Taehyung went to work to pick up a few things from his office, but rather than taking his usual means of transportation, he decides to take the subway. Knowing that’s what you used to get around, he hoped that just maybe he might pass you. For a moment he thought he might get recognized, but with a casual hoodie and jeans, he doubts anyone will even spare him a glance.

The crowded subway comes to a sudden stop. People are getting on and some are getting off, he eyes the crowd especially hard, in hopes that he might see you. To his disdain, it’s just a bunch of strangers, no one interesting.

He looks around, watching the woman across from him typing on her phone. Her aura is so gold, it’s glowing transparently around her. That color could mean many different things; happiness, eagerness, jealousy, and even apprehension. It all deepened on the hue, the shade of the aura. Whenever he sees that color, his mind gets a little foggy, and as soon as that happens, the color begins to fade and that person becomes blurred from his vision.

When he confided in his father about it, he told him to try not to look if it made him feel unwell. That’s when they discovered that his body was reacting to the aura, in what way? They never had the resources to further research it, Jane invented most of the practices that went into making him. Unfortunately, there were some things Taehyung went through physically that his father wouldn’t know where to start in trying to help.

When the subway halts at his stop, he gets off, maneuvering through the crowd so he could start his walk back to his dad’s place.

It’s so quiet. That’s what he first notices when he walks along the sidewalk. His eyes follow the people walking in all different directions, hoping you might be there. But he’s only fooling himself, if you were around, surely he’d feel your aura.

When he enters his dad’s home, he sees that he already left to start his work shift. Not enjoying the silence, he trudges over to the couch and turns the TV on. Of course, the news is on and they’re covering the same forecast for the third time today, probably. He turns a deaf ear to it and leans back, not feeling good enough to start working. The thought that you might have just decided to leave him, it crosses his mind. But you wouldn’t do that, would you? It seems he’s discovered more about his powers in the short time that he’s known you than he has in his entire life.

It might seem too early to say, but he feels like he needs you around. Every fiber in his body seems to crave your presence in your absence. He’s never had this type of draw to someone, not even of his loved ones, not even his father. It’s not a platonic need, not an emotional or physical need, he’s not sure what it is. But ever since you two somehow merged consciousness, he’s felt the need to go back to that part of his dreams. But he doesn’t know if he can do it without you.

Selfishly, that’s one of the reasons he wants to see you. He thinks that maybe if you two can connect like that again, you’ll both gain some clarity about who you really are and what you’re capable of.

His eyes try to stay open, but he soon falls victim to sleep.

Gasping for air, his lungs expel water, and his body jerks forward. When he takes in his surroundings, he’s in what looks like a lake it’s as dark as night. Swimming to the edge, he hoists himself out of it and stands to his feet looking around for some type of familiarity. When he fully takes in the new environment, he’s in the forest. Trees and plants arch up, branches and vines hanging on them, ropy and sharp edges on it. Nothing bright and bushy with life like one would expect. The leaves are dark, not wilted but dull and heavy.

Cold. He’s ice-cold. A sensation he’s seldom felt in these dreams before.

“What is this place…” He mumbles arms hugged to his sides to supply some warmth to himself. His bare feet drag on the forest floor—it feels so real, it’s hard to grasp that this is only a dream. Curious to find out what this place is, he turns back to the body of water he came from. Coughing due to the cold temperature, he runs back to the body of water and stops when he reaches the edge.

It’s frozen over.

“What is this?…” He gets on his knees, staring down at the now icy body of water. Rubbing some of the ice from the top of it, he looks closer and for a moment he sees a light. Something familiar, warm. When he leans down to get a better look, the ice breaks under his weight, a sound that nearly shreds his eardrums before the cold abyss swallows him whole.

When he opens his eyes, he’s in the same darkness he had been in with you, and he’s completely dry, not a drop of water on him.

Warmth.

He looks around, gathering that this place looks similar to where he just was, but the plants are thriving bright green, the fruit is growing abundantly. Everything looks dewy, supple, ripe—nothing he’s ever seen before.

Light. The farther he walks towards it, the more it calls him—draws him in. Before he realizes it, he’s running, he’s running towards it. The closer he gets, the better he can see a silhouette, it looks like your silhouette.

“Y/n?…” He whispers, eyes narrowing when he notices you grow further away from him as he tries to get closer. “Y/n!” Desperately, he calls your name.

Why aren’t you looking back at him, can’t you hear him?

When he manages to get close enough to the aura surrounding you, he can only see the form of your body, almost appearing bare. It’s obvious that he’s not making any progress trying to follow you, so he stops, and that’s when you stop moving.

He’s entranced in the intense glow emitting from you, just trying to make out your frame. Suddenly, you start to look around, head-turning left to right, as if you weren’t sure where you were. All while you obliviously look around, he’s thrumming in desperation to get closer. Physically, his energy responds so strongly to you.

He can’t take the distance anymore, he takes a step towards you and he cringes when you release a bloodcurdling screech. Your body collapses and all he can see is darkness.

The warmth ceases, and he’s cold once again.

Jane sits idly by your side, gazing down at the IV in your hand and the sticky monitors all over your forehead. You began to toss a bit, a deep furrow in your brows.

Her assistant, Peony, is accompanying in your check-up. In the young doctor’s eyes, this is the highest honor Jane could give anyone working by her side. Not only is this a top-secret project, but no medical professional has ever gotten this close to a child of the Flower Garden. They were assumed to have been lost, but here you are, a full-grown woman with mysteries soon to be discovered.

“Dr. Sato,” She speaks softly, eyes not leaving the brain activity monitor for a moment, “the activity just spiked like crazy, I don’t know what’s going.”

“Let me see,” Reluctantly, she leaves your side to observe the monitor and she’s taken aback, “her brain activity is going to be much different than ours, but that is a bit unusual-”

The lights flicker.

“What was that?” Her assistant glances at you, watching your fingers twitch erratically.

“The power in this facility state-of-the-art, we don’t get shortages or anything like that because we’re not running off of the city’s power,” Jane furrows her brows, looking up at the lights that have since gone back to normal, “it must be her,”

It burns, it feels like your blood is on fire. The machines in the room, the lights on the ceiling, everything charged by electricity is connecting to you. Screaming at the top of your lungs, you try to wake yourself up.

You want to wake up, it’s too much.

Peony seeks reassurance from Jane with wide eyes, pushing her glasses up her nose out of nervous habit. They’re eyes drift over to your arms, and the glowing veins are something they’ve seen in other experiments. You have it too.

Both women duck down when they hear the building’s power surge. “Dr. Sato, what’s going on- Ah!”

“Dr. Sato, I think we should turn it off!” Peony holds her hands to her ears as Jane tries to turn off the monitor that’s now flashing bright colors that it definitely wasn’t meant to do.

She flips the switch off, brows furrowed when it does nothing at all. “It’s not shutting off- She’s- She’s powering it.”

The alarm starts blaring a painful screeching to their ears, the lights glow brighter, so much so that they look like they’ll pop. Peony’s mind immediately goes to the other patients in the building and she fears you might be affecting them.

Instinctively, she runs to the com so she can call an emergency code. Jane blocks her way to the phone, “No! Don’t call, she’s doing this, we just need to wake her,” Peony is struck with fear, she’s never seen anything like this.

“Y/n,” Gently, Jane shakes you a little, not fearing your ability to unintentionally hurt her.  “Y/n, wake up,” Biting her lip, she hesitates to but calls you by the name she knows you by, “Yves, wake up,”

Slowly, your eyes flutter open and your brows narrow at the now poorly lit room.

“Sweetheart,” Jane touches your arm lightly, “how do you feel?”

“I have a headache,” You hold your forehead, “what happened to the lights?”

“As soon as your brain activity started spiking, the lights, the fire alarm, my equipment—everything started overcharging, it was you. What were you dreaming about?” Jane inquires, “Peony, take notes on my laptop.”

Still, a bit shaken, Peony walks over to the desk and opens up the laptop.

You glance over at the assistant, Jane notices your hesitance. “Peony will be by my side as we do further testing, you can trust her.”

“I was in a garden, I think that’s what it was…I felt overwhelmed like I was connecting to something, I was trying to wake up.”

Jane stands, a notepad and a pen in her hands so she can have personal notes.

You pull the monitors off as you get out of the bed and walk towards the door, you open it before they can stop you. Jane doesn’t mind though, she glances at you as you peek out there and see the hallway lights off.

Have security check the circuit breaker, none of the 4% are powerful enough to cause something like this.

You clearly hear a male voice coming from one of the lower floors and it really hits you—you’re powerful enough to knock the power out of this huge building. Closing the door softly, you take a step back. For your entire life, you’ve wondered why you were given these powers, why it had to be you. If you really possess the gifts she says, how come you’re so unfamiliar with it? Taehyung didn’t as distanced from his powers as you but he still understood them better, he had his father there as support. But you had no family, no friends, you had no one.

“What’s the 4%?” You look at both of them, patiently awaiting an answer.

“How did you know about that?” Peony furrows her brows.

“I heard someone say it just now, somewhere downstairs, what is it?”

“Wow, I knew your sense was heightened, but your hearing is incredible,” She smiles, still taken buy all you can do. Your expression doesn’t change though and she clears her throat to answer your question.

“The 4% are individuals all possess the M2 gene. The M2-gene is a genetic trait passed down to a handful of humans, it’s supernatural gifting. I devoted the final project for my doctorate to prove it’s existence.”

She goes on to explain the M2-gene, the Flower Garden, the experiments, all the things Taehyung’s father had told you. The treatments, the experimenting process, she rambles on about it but one thing she hasn’t mentioned, Taehyung. If his father was right, she should be eager to tell you about him, even mention that you had someone out there who had powers similar to yours. You wished you had the powers Taehyung had, then you’d be able to read her. His ability probably came in handy when it came to interacting with you, you weren’t always truthful. You bet he’s wondering where you are and you wish you could tell him, but you fear to expose him to Jane. So you’ll suffer alone until you can find a way to leave. You don’t have to kindest of feelings towards her but she seems to care, that puts your mind at rest for right now.

You interrupt her, “Did you really know my parents? Personally,”

She falls silent, sitting down her notepad. “I did, and I know they’d do anything to be with you now.”

“Tell me about them,” You sit down, “my aunt and uncle didn’t talk about them much…”

“That’s where you were?” She never knew where they sent you. “Do you still live with them-”

“No, my uncle kicked me out when I was eighteen, I haven’t seen or heard from them since. I want to know everything you know about my birth parents, if you’re going to hold me here against my will,” Suddenly, the lights flicker back on and the building hums, the power coming back on, “I think you owe me at least that,”

“Alright,” She swallows, walking to the door and opening it up, “I have a section dedicated to all of the doctors and scientist who helped me, everything I know about them is there.”

“Can you take me there?” You walk up to her, eager to finally learn something about them that wasn’t just a picture that you stole from Taehyung.

You want to know who you are, where you came from—who you would have been had you met them.

*

She’s showing you everything you’ve asked to see without hesitation. It is so surreal. The person you had always imagined behind the name Dr. Sato acted much differently in your mind. Now that you’re standing face-to-face with the woman you cursed throughout your teen years in a moment of frustration – but you’re not angry. She looks at you with infatuation, complete and utter infatuation. She tries to make it subtle but with her little henchmen following her every move and writing down your answer to every question, it’s obvious she has a tiny obsession. That’s reasonable.

“This was your mother’s journal and your father’s bracelet with your name on it,” Jane opens a drawer and hands you a purple journal and a thin gold bracelet with a little plaque on it, “she tried to write down every little thing about the pregnancy, and things she wanted to tell you when you got older. And your dad had the bracelet made just a few days after you were born, he was gonna give it to you when you got a little bigger. I hope I could give it to you one day,”

With hesitant hands, you take the dainty bracelet, admiring it and the spelling of  Yves in delicate calligraphy. Closing the bracelet in your fist, you open the journal. A smile comes to your face when you see the inconsistency in some of the manuscripts, a problem you used to struggle with. As hard as you try, you can’t bring yourself to read any of it. Because once you’ve read it, the words she dreamed to tell you, they’d be out in the open. No more wondering. What if you were disappointing? What if the hopes and dreams she had for you were things you couldn’t amount to, would she be proud of who you are? You always hoped she would.

“I don’t have anything from my parents,” You close the journal holding it to yourself protectively, “thank you.”

“Of course,” She glances down at your clenched fist. “Do you want to wear it? I can put it on for you,” She offers, anxious to see if you’ll brush her off or let her help, “it clips on and off-”

“I’m fine, thanks…” You clear your throat, walking off to the other side of the little museum-like space. Suddenly, as if you were back in the dream realm, you sense something hot. It’s just for a split second but it was so weird, you almost dropped the journal. You must have looked spooked because Jane is looking at you with concerned eyes.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just a little tired, I think I need to get some sleep, it’s been a long day,” You see if she’ll take the bait and let you go to your room.

“Oh! I’m sorry, of course, yes, I can imagine you’re exhausted. You’re welcome to stay in here a little longer and you know where your room, I’ll see you later,” She leaves the room with Peony on her tail and you wait until you hear their footsteps grow further before you let yourself react.

“Huh…” You look down at the journal, still not ready to read it, but even having it in your hands is enough right now. Placing your hand on the window, you pray that Taehyung can wait for you a little longer – just until you’ve found what you’re looking for.

The senator is on his way to a conference on the other side of the city, he’s been asked to talk about the new policy. It’s been deemed necessary for all citizens born between 1992 and 1998, it’s newly been suggested that all citizens consider visiting SRMA.

Just when he thought things were getting interesting, it gets more interesting. He gets a call from agent Jeon. As he holds the phone to his ear, his relaxed expression twists into one of confusion when Jungkook rambles on. “Wait, wait, the memorial?”

Jungkook is a safe distance away from the lake, gazing at it with more confusion than curiosity, “Yeah, the gates and the Mantra in the garden is just- It’s- it’s all on fire.”

In the large garden where the memory of Lenny and the Flower Garden lay, the 8-foot gate and the once-grand plaque in the middle of the garden burns. The letters spelling Jane’s younger sister’s full name, Lenoir, melt before their eyes.

Humans can be morphed into something greater, stronger, and far more beautiful through science and mutation. Through technological advancements, the idea of physical imperfections, chronic illness, genetic disorder, and even the common cold will be made history through rigorous genetic and biological alterations. There is no denying that a human’s DNA is beautifully made, but the M-2 gene will usher in a new being, radically transforming humans with abilities beyond our comprehension. 

All of that was once in the middle of the garden in front of the fountain, and it’s up in flames, along with the water in the fountain.

“I’ve never seen anything like this, it’s definitely the work of someone but I’m not sure why anyone would do this here.” Jungkook looks around, see no other part of the garden is touched, 

“This part of the facility is blocked off from the public and some of the staff if someone was trying to make a statement, it looks like they were making it to Dr. Sato personally.”

The firemen frantically raced to put the fire out, but they’re too late. The gates are destroyed, the plaque and the fountain still have flames that devour the former beauty.

Greene groans, pressing his temples firmly. “Does she know about this? She’s working on something really important right now, we don’t need her upset about this right now.”

“Okay, sir,” He sighs, “but she comes out here almost every morning, she’s gonna find out.”

*

In the forest outside of the facility, a pale-skinned dark figure sits in the highest tree, watching the little haven go up in flames with a devious smile. His hands have a lingering burn but that will always fade in time, this was worth it. The thought of Jane’s face when she sees this, one might have pity but the pain she’s put him through, the pain she’s caused – she can’t ignore this.

[geewithluv]

ESOTERIC [two]

ESOTERIC: intended for or likely to be understood by only a small number of people with a specialized knowledge or interest.

The ins and outs of the prominent gang, Bangtan, can seem esoteric to the general population that is most affected by their actions.

Ｓｙｎｏｐｓｉｓ： ❝ Jimin is going to take over Bangtan after Hitman falls ill. Not feeling confident that Jimin is ready, Hitman pulls in the pacifistic daughter of a (now deceased) close associate. Kit hasn’t been around Bangtan for years, but now she’s forced to in order to help the remaining members of her family. ❞

Ｐａｉｒｉｎｇ：Jimin x Female OC (ft. the rest of BTS, Bang PD, members of Seventeen & BlackPink)

Ｇｅｎｒｅ：mafia!au, some fluff & some angst

Ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ： cursing, death from illness, mentions of death by gun violence, anxiety attack

Ｗｏｒｄ Ｃｏｕｎｔ：4k

ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ  [part one]

Kit woke up later than she would have preferred. As much as she tried to keep her sleep schedule consistent no matter when she was working, her body always seemed to betray her wishes for a stable sleep cycle. With a yawn, she stumbled into her kitchen, turning the TV on as she passed it. “I could’ve sworn I bought more tea.” Kit grumbled to herself as she glared at the empty glass jar that should contain packets of teabags. But not a single packet sat in that jar, not even the tea she had disliked but kept around for when she had seemingly forgotten her addiction-esque need for the beverage.

 “Late last night popular restaurant, Ossu Seiromushi, went up in flames and the local fire department is still trying to contain the situation. The cause is currently unknown. Please be sure to avoid 4th street during your morning commute as it will be blocked off while firefighters attempt to control the blaze.” 

 Kit hated the morning news anchors voice but this time she let herself drown in the soundwaves coming from her television. She rubbed any remaining sleep from her eyes to look at the video playing and the headline written in the bold black text at the bottom of the screen. “Holy shit.” She whispered as she realized she wasn’t dreaming. The restaurant is burning to the ground. Bangtan’s restaurant. Who knew what else was in there besides food and very expensive cutlery?

  “There’s at least a 5 grand in cash currently taking its final form as a pile of ashes on the damn floor! That’s not even mentioning all the other shit that’s gone because of this! I don’t know if I should hope everything in there is completely burned beyond recognition because the last thing we need is a federal investigation.” Jimin paced around the spacious office in the Bangtan estate. It’s not even 7:30 A.M. and they’re already being reminded that they’re sustained by crime. Taehyung holds the firm belief that it’s much more of a 10 A.M. reminder. 

“Who the hell set Ossu Seiromushi on fire?” Yoongi was hardly awake, trying not to completely slump over in the cushioned armchair.

 Namjoon speaks up. “No one knows if it was even set on fire or if it just--”

 “Don’t even finish that sentence.” Jimin is quick to cut him off. “We all know a fully up-to-code and functional restaurant doesn’t just start randomly burning to the ground at 2 A.M..” The shrill sound of his cell phone ringing makes Jimin groan as he presses the green button. “What is it?”

 “I know it’s 7 in the morning, but would it kill you to sound a little more pleasant?” Kit’s voice came through the other line as Jimin sits down in the leather chair behind the large custom wooden desk. “What the hell is going on at the restaurant?” Kit continued realizing Jimin wasn’t going to answer her remark.

 “You tell me. Seokjin, Jungkook, and Hoseok are there now waiting for an answer.” Jimin glides his hand across the sleek surface as Yoongi, Taehyung, and Namjoon watch him intently. “You’re only a few blocks over aren’t you? You didn’t hear or see anything?”

 “A few blocks is pretty far, Jimin.” Kit scoffed. “And I didn’t because I was sound asleep at 2 A.M.. Some of us have actual jobs that require us to have a schedule and--”

 “Save your 8 to 10 hours and circadian rhythm rant. I’m coming over.” Jimin stood up, making the three other men jump up as Jimin yanked open a desk drawer, grabbing a few things and shoving them in various pockets. 

 “You absolutely are not! What makes you think that you can just come over whenever you feel like it?” Kit huffed, Jimin smirked imagining her practically stomping around her apartment trying to put things away and ‘clean up’ for him despite her apartment being cleaner than any private residence he had ever been to.

 “The fact that you’re a few blocks away from where I need to be right now, the fact that I won’t take no for an answer and the overwhelming fact that you only pretend to be annoyed when I invite myself over.” Jimin grabbed his car keys as he left the office. “You guys stay here, wait for the others to give word. If anything happens, call me. ASAP.” Jimin pointed at the three men who were silently hoping he stayed a little longer so they could hear more of his conversation with Kit. How often did he go over to see her anyway? Nevertheless, the slam of the front door shutting, meant they weren’t going to get any more information.

 “Think they’re fucking?” Yoongi crossed his arms before slumping back in the armchair, he runs his fingers through bleach blonde strands of hair falling into his heavy eyes.

 “Kit? Having casual sex? Didn’t think you were a comedian.” Taehyung laughed.

 “Maybe it’s not so casual.” Namjoon suggested with a shrug, sitting across from Yoongi.

 “You think Jimin’s going to commit to one pussy?” Yoongi moved one of his rings around his finger, a pathetic attempt to stay distracted from sleep calling his name.

 “Maybe, he’s gotta mature if he’s going to run this thing.” Namjoon was correct but no one would admit that it would eventually become time for Jimin to really commit to leading, and that meant he needed to think more about everything he did. Every decision could be life or death for over a dozen people. 

 No one wanted to think about that.

 “You’re obviously sleep deprived.” Taehyung snickered.

  Kit and Jimin stand in her bedroom looking out the window. They were able to see smoke rising just off in the distance. 

 “How much do you think you guys lost?” She asked after a few minutes of standing in silence.

 “We. You’re in this thing too, even if you refuse to say it aloud.” He glanced over at her quickly before he cleared his throat. “In dollars, we’ve lost 10 grand at the very least. Probably much more. A new shipment just came in.” 

 “Is Jin okay? I know he really loved it. Front for deals or not. It was still a working restaurant.” Jimin nearly winced, she was too nice. He worried about it being a downfall. He also winced as he realized that he had not even thought to ask Jin how he felt.

 “He’ll get over it. He can’t afford to dwell. None of us can. We found out who did it, we make them pay, we move on.” He stated simply. Kit turned on her heel to face him. “Don’t look at me like that.” Jimin sighed.

 “Like what? Like I don’t want anyone to get hurt?” Her dark eyebrows furrowed.

 “Don’t look at me like you think you can stop me from doing what I have to do. Don’t look at me like you think I’m better than this.”

 “You are better than this, though. You don’t have to hurt anyone.”

 “How can you think the world is so simple, kitten?” Jimin turned to face her. “You’re so…” he trailed off, thinking for a moment as a hundred words to describe her flood his brain and threaten to pour out his mouth, “optimistic.”

 “Maybe you’re just a pessimist.” 

 A flicker of a smile as he looks into her eyes. “Maybe.” He let out a deep breath. “I don’t know how the hell you’re going to handle this shit. This is light work.”

 “I can handle a whole lot more than you’d think.” Kit looked at the ground, her hair falling into her face. There’s an implication that doesn’t get to be addressed as the ding of Jimin’s phone fills the otherwise silent room.

 “I need to get back, you coming?”

 “You know I don’t like--” Kit cuts herself off, something in my mind tells her to go against the usual. “Yeah. I’ll come.” She said. Jimin raised an eyebrow in surprise as she grabbed a pair of shoes.

  Kit finds the meetings to be more than boring. They’re worse than the ones at the hospital when the protocol changes. So, instead, she finds something else to do. Usually opting to clean up around the large home since the guys won’t do it themselves and had apparently had a recent bad experience with a cleaning crew. So they’ve settled for hardly cleaning. 

 She hummed softly to herself as she passed the master bedroom, well, almost passed it. She had become used to passing it and hearing the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the IV drips. 

 Nothing.

 Complete and utter silence as she walked by except for her own mindless humming. She felt a sinking feeling, the same one that made her stop working the ICU and Trauma floors at the hospital. The feeling of knowing that it’s over. She knows, she knows before she actually knows, before she opened the door and stood in the room and looked at the heart monitor that had been unplugged by the man who wanted to spend his final moments in silence. She couldn’t blame him, who would want to die having to hear their heart slow to a stop. 

 She knew he was dead before she saw all these things. She had known it was coming. Everyone knew it was coming. She didn’t even like the man all that much. She had blamed him for years for the way her life had played out. But she still found herself on the floor and a scream leaving her body because it’s the only sound she could make before her face became drenched in wet sadness. 

 “Kit! Kit!” Her name is being called throughout the house as 7 men fear for the girl’s safety only to realize that she might be the safest she’s ever been. On the ground gasping for air as she sobs. Namjoon is the first one in the room before he calls out to the others. He knows there’s nothing to be done so he moves to Kit, grabbing her by her waist and pulling her up and out of the room as 6 other people run in. 

 “He’s dead!” She shrieked, thrashing around in the tall man’s arms as he takes her into the front of the house, nearly tossing her onto the sofa. 

 Jungkook and Hoseok don’t even enter the room, opting to stay in the doorway. They stared at the bed where the man who had controlled their entire lives, now lay lifeless. 

 Jungkook had never known a life that didn’t consist of being reprimanded and ordered around by Hitman Bang. Even in his final days, Jungkook still felt like the kid who nearly fell over the first time he shot a gun, not prepared for the recoil. Hitman had laughed before telling him he’d get used to it, stabilizing him, and making him shoot again.

 Hoseok was well aware this time was coming, but it didn’t sink in until now that there wasn’t another option. And now it’s here, he’s too late to prepare for a reaction, so his body stills.

 Yoongi chewed on his inner cheek, standing near the foot of the bed. “Fuck.” He mutters to himself, he’s pretty sure this is the first time he’s ever seen someone dead that wasn’t murdered or otherwise injured. And somehow, it hurt so much more knowing his own body did this to him. His body decided to kill him. The ultimate betrayal.

 Taehyung leaves the room, pushing past Hoseok and Jungkook and walking until he gets to the living room. He pretended he wanted to help calm Kit down. But he really just couldn’t bear being in the room without vomiting.

 Jimin and Jin stand on the side of the bed. Jimin starts casually dumping pill bottles and wrappings from needles filled with morphine into a nearby trash can. Jin tries to talk to him but Jimin quickly cuts him off. “It’s over. He’s dead. Now you can either help me clean this shit up or you can go call the morgue. One or the other. I’m in charge now.”

 Jin decides to call the morgue, coming to the conclusion that Jimin needed that bit of time to himself. And honestly, Jin needed some distraction and a second to breathe fresh air.

  Jimin takes Kit back to her house before anyone even shows up to remove the body. He claims it’s just so Kit doesn’t have to be there and watch. But it’s for his sake too, because he spends the rest of the day lying in her bed, holding her. Only moving to answer a few texts. “You can go home, Jimin.” She had told him more than a couple of times, only getting a hum of ‘I’m fine’ or some excuse in response. She doesn’t want him to leave, she finds resting her head on his chest with his arm around her to be more than comfortable, but she wants to keep enforcing the fact that he’s there because he wants to be in her bed cuddling her, not because he feels that he needs to be. So they held each other in her bed for hours, the television nearly muted. Only interrupted by two phone calls telling Kit that her mother was approved for transfer to the better hospital in the city and that her brother had a bed reserved for him in a rehab facility in Arizona. 

 Bang Sihyuk was a lot of things, but he was a man of his word.

 “Go to sleep, kitten.” Jimin whispered just before 10 p.m., slowly rubbing her back. They had nearly finished a full season of Grey’s Anatomy.

 “You need to sleep too.” She told him.

 “I can handle myself.” Kit shifted her body, somehow moving even closer to him, resting a leg over his.

 “It’s okay to be sad, you know? It’s normal to be upset. It’s not good for your mind to pretend you’re okay when you’re not.” She said softly, tracing the ink of his tattoo with her finger. He doesn’t respond, not sure what to say. She wasn’t really expecting a response anyway. “Goodnight, Jimin.” She presses a kiss to his shoulder.

  “You don’t have to take me to work.” Kit said with a huff as she climbed into the passenger seat of Jimin’s car.

 “You keep mentioning how long the walk from the hospital to the garage is. No telling who might be out there waiting for a pretty little thing like you to come walking all alone.” He started the car and drives out of the complex’s parking lot.

 “How many times do I have to tell you not to leave so fast! The super already came to scold me, saying you’re gonna ruin the pavement.” Kit scolded. The pavement has been in dire need of repair but no one wanted to pay for it so the superintendent decided that suing would be the best way to collect money.

 “I didn’t get a nice car and sit with Yoongi for a month to customize it so I could drive the speed limit.”

 “You’re so annoying sometimes.” Kit rolled her eyes as Jimin laughed, resting a hand on her thigh. “I work a 12 today, are you gonna be able to get me?”

 “Course I am, kitten. What do ya take me for?”

 “A very busy man? Especially at 9 o’clock on a Friday night.”

 “If you’re implying what I think you are, you’re wrong.” He slides his hand further up her leg before wrapping it back around the steering wheel. She doesn’t push further but has a soft smile on her face for the rest of the ride.

  “Took you long enough, my god, thought some psycho patient got ahold of you.” Jimin turned the key as Kit starts buckling up.

 “Sorry,” she whined, “you would not believe the shift I had. All to end with some 15-year-old telling me they went into cardiac arrest and I’m too stupid to figure it out.”

 “Let me guess, she consulted doctor google?” He raised an eyebrow as he started driving.

 “Isn’t it always?” Kit sighed as she leaned back in the seat. “What have you been doing?”

 “Cleaning up the restaurant.” He stated, a curious hum leaves Kit’s body. “Well, hiring other people to do it and watching over them.”

 “Did the police finally say it was arson?”

 “Nope, they didn’t say anything. Made sure they didn’t.”

 “Well, don’t you think the police should investigate?” Kit turned her body as much as she could to face him.

 “Are you-- my god, you’re still so innocent.” Jimin kept his focus on the road, fearing what he’d do if he saw that innocent look in her brown eyes.

 “I just don’t get it. If you can pay them to say it wasn’t arson, just pay them not to arrest you all.”

 “It’s not that simple, babygirl.” Jimin sighed, thanking God that his phone happened to ding and end the conversation. “Shit, shit, shit.” He muttered reading the text.

 “What is it? Jimin!” Kit nearly screamed as Jimin made a very illegal U-turn.

 “These dumb fucks! I can’t leave them alone for an hour!” He slams his hand down on the edge of the wheel. He pulls into a dark street, stopping short of what seemed to be a warehouse.

 “Where are we?” She looked around, unable to even figure out what street they were on.

 “Just…” He huffed as he opened the door. “Just stay in the car.” He got out without another word, slamming the door shut, leaving Kit in a state somewhere between confusion and frustration and on the border of a panic attack as she sees him run around the corner of the building. She started hearing some yelling but she couldn’t make out what anyone was saying. She wanted to get out, be a little nosy, help in some way. But Jimin’s words rang in her head and the look on his face as he got the text, it was better to do as he said. This was confirmed when a loud pop hurt her ears. Then another, a couple of seconds later another pop. Her body stiffened and her eyes widened. She feared the worst. She wasn’t sure if Jimin was the cause of the gunshots or the recipient. She didn’t even know who else was there.

 “Get in the fucking car!” A voice yells, managing to be so loud the soundwaves penetrate the car and she hears it clearly. She sees Jimin, Jin, and Jungkook run towards the car, she lets out a breath when she realizes they’re all fine, but she soon is filled with worry again as the guys scramble into the car. Jimin doesn’t say anything as he speeds out.

 “What happened to you all?” Kit looks toward a panting Jin and Jungkook, realizing Jimin wasn’t going to say answer even if he could unlock his jaw for long enough to talk.

 “Those dumbasses from Seventeen.” Jin groans. “They had a couple girls with them, didn’t even know they had girls in their gang!”

“I cannot believe you two almost got killed trying to get laid!” Jimin yelled and Kit thought she might not ever be able to hear properly again.

 “Well not all of us can bang the only girl in our circle.” Jungkook attempted to defend himself. Kit stumbles over words for a moment before Jimin shoots him a glare in the rear-view mirror.

 “I’m going to assume you said that out of agony and aren’t in a state to know better.” He growled. “Say that shit again and see if I don’t feed you back to Seungcheol.” For once, Kit is thankful for Jimin’s temper.

  Kit is sat in the living room of the estate as the guys talk, knees up to her chest. Jimin is pacing, she wished he would pick another habit because it only made her more anxious.

 “Maybe they’ll change their name to Sixteen.” Hoseok tried to lighten the situation with a joke.

 “Fifteen.” Jin laughed.

 “Nah, I heard Mingyu made it out. Probably wishes he didn’t.” Hoseok nudged Namjoon next to him as he laughed. But Namjoon isn’t listening. His attention was focused solely on Kit, he watched her expression change as the guys talked.

 “Breathe, Kit.” Namjoon stood up, making his way toward the girl.

 “What’s wrong?” Jimin stopped in his tracks, looking between Namjoon and Kit. Kit doesn’t speak, her chest raises and lowers rapidly.

 “She’s having a panic attack.” Namjoon spoke calmly, knowing that if he worried it would only make her worse. He lowered to his knees in front of her. “Kit, Kit, look at me.” She grabbed hold on Namjoon’s hands as she looked into his eyes, anxiety clear on her face as her body shook with her breaths.

 “Why is she having a panic attack?” Jimin rubbed his hands over his face. And why didn’t I notice before? He thought to himself.

 “Is it because we talked about murdering the guys from Seventeen?” Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows.

 “Of course it’s because we mentioned how we killed someone, you idiot.” Taehyung snapped, making Kit sob loudly. Namjoon starts speaking softly to her.

 “Everyone needs to leave right now.” Namjoon’s smooth voice replaces the murmurs.

 “You don’t get to make the orders around here.” Jimin responded before glancing back over at Kit, her brown skin turning red as cries leave her mouth. Her hands moved to clench the fabric of her shirt. “Everyone out.” He nearly whispered. For a moment he’s not sure if anyone even heard him. But they soon start leaving. Namjoon gives a small smile to the leader as he follows behind them.

 “You’re gonna be okay, everyone panicked a little at first.” Namjoon sat down beside Kit when the door closed. She didn’t respond, so he continued. “My girlfriend freaked out the first time I ever mentioned it.” He chuckled a little remembering that day. “I forget sometimes that my life isn’t normal.”

 “You have a girlfriend?” Kit mumbled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Namjoon nodded, a big smile on his face that helped calm her.

 “Yeah, I do. That’s usually why I’m not here. I’d much rather spend my time reading in her living room than taking orders from Jimin.” He said, getting a soft giggle from Kit.

 “He’s a little bossy sometimes.” She said, looking up at him. Her body was still shaking a little, her breathing not quite steady but she seemed to be calming.

 “He is, he means well though. You don’t have to keep doing this, staying here and helping out. Jimin’s got it covered. Hitman just wasn’t sure he could.” Namjoon explained. He was sure it wasn’t her first panic attack steeming from the gang and it probably wouldn’t be her last.

 “I’m not sure he really does have it covered.” Kit sniffled, Namjoon raised his eyebrows, motioning her to explain. “The amount of times I’ve talked to him about his concerns over a situation means he’s not sure. I’ve calmed him down way too many times. He won’t even admit that he’s worried, he doesn’t want anyone to know. But I know.”

 “Well… then... I’m glad you’re helping.” Namjoon was a little shocked. He, for once, wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Maybe I could link you up with my girl. You guys could talk about how dumb we all are.” He placed a hand on her shoulder as Kit nodded giving him a smile before she wrapped her arms around him.

 “Thanks, Joonie.” He pulled her closer into him, the nickname warmed his heart in a way he couldn’t explain. He hadn’t heard it in a while, not since Kit left Bangtan years ago. It was a stark contrast from the harsh yell of ‘Namjoon’ he had become used to.

 “Anytime.” He whispered.

End of Part Two. I’m going to try and get this up once a week by the way! Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think?

[oh-mother-of-darkness]

answers (16)

Anonymous said: A lot of these secrets are really serious and sad so heres a lighter one: me and my sister are knitting christmas socks for the whole family as a surprise. Ive never knit a pattern before but im really good!!

Amazing!! 

Anonymous said: idk if your still doing this but my secret is I fear im a terrible person who only acts nice to rick people into liking her and ik that actually does make me an okay but i still feel im doing it for the wrong reasons and someones going to get too close and find out the truth and hate me

That’s very self aware of you, I think-- probably too self aware. You’re absolutely right to say it’s the trying that matters, but I’m not gonna blame you for worrying about it. I have similar concerns about myself sometimes. I’m aware that for me personally they’re partially justified. Some of my kindness is self motivated. 

I think though (and it seems like you already know this) it’s the effect of the kindness that matters. Maybe it’s better for me if I have “pure” intentions, but if I don’t, I should still do the kind things anyway, right? Because at the end there’s still going to be good. And there’s nothing bad about actively trying to be good, which is all we’re doing. 

Anonymous said: my secret is that ive been chasing after a dream my whole life but im not sure ill ever achieve it. times running out and i dont know what to do if i cant. i feel like my whole life has been put on standby and i dont know the way out. i know ill be okay in the end but i dont know what the end will be and that scares me.

Shit that’s relatable. You really will be okay, but it’s terrifying in the meantime, isn’t it? To have those turning points bearing down on you?

Things will happen. You can’t stop that. Time is gonna continue, but you’ll still be there at the end. Your head’s already in the right place. 

Anonymous said: My secret is that I really, really like one of my friends, but he has a girlfriend and slept with one of my best friends when they were both super drunk. I want the feelings to stop and go back to being just friends, because I honestly think I don't have a chance, but there is a small part of me that doesn't want to let go. I don't know what to do.

Well that’s a bitch of a situation, isn’t it? Romantic feelings aren’t really my area, but I understand holding on to things you consciously want to let go. Emotions always feel like part of me, you know? I don’t want to tear them away. Sometimes it’s better to do it, though. I don’t know from a few sentences if that’s the case here, but I hope you find the way that’s the best for you 

Anonymous said: My secret is I used to be suicidal, in my pre/early teens. I had realised I was lesbian in a small, largely Catholic town and hated myself for it. I was awful at social situations and couldn’t make friends. I hated myself for having baby fat because I danced part time. Then as I got older I slowly got more confident until one day a friend died I realised that holy shit I used to be suicidal and I could have killed myself. I’m terrified that I might get like that again and actually do it

Honestly, and I know this is gonna sound cliche, but I’m always in awe of folks like you. I don’t handle my own mental health issues super well most of the time, and to hear about someone growing? Changing? Getting better? Amazing

Anonymous said: If you're still taking these... my secret is that I don't want to give birth to children ever, and would consider adopting instead (when I'm older), but if I were to voice that to any family member or even an acquitance, they would shun me for it and make sure they try to talk me out of it. I really hate how conservative people put so many expectations on my shoulders

Heyyyyyy same. I’m not planning on birthing any kids, but my parents have come down pretty heavily on the single-women-should-not-adopt-children thing, which is.... bullshit. I’m gonna adopt some kids one day, whether they like it or not. 

You know your own mind and your own plans. Other people don’t have to be happy about them, even (maybe especially) family members. 

Anonymous said: My secret is that I’m a bad friend. I don’t make time for the few friends I have and spend most my time working or being in my room. They deserve better than me.

I don’t think you’re a bad friend. Not being around isn’t bad-friend behavior. You’re not hurting anyone. You’re not doing anything wrong. And I certainly don’t think that it justifies the idea that they should leave you. Relationships are always kinda a difficult balancing act, but you don’t have to be perfect at balancing it, you know?

Anonymous said: My secret is that I'm extremely self-sufficient, I've always had to be. But because there's no one else taking care of me it's so hard to invest my time in others because I'll neglect my own mental state. It make sit hard to develop stable relationships. Every once in a while I re-realize that I'm no one's priority so I have to be my own. And it just sucks.

Shit anon that’s really really rough. It makes me sad with you. I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong, because I don’t know, do I? But I hope you are. 

Anonymous said: My secret is I imagine myself as OCs I create for certain fandoms like Young Justice or Castlevania, and I spend all my time daydreaming of how I would act in episodes and how I would interact with the characters. I think it’s because I’m not satisfied with my life, and I’m also afraid that this makes me either weird or crazy.

Oh biggest mood

I do that too. I’m not in a position to say whether that’s a good or bad thing, but I like to think it just makes us creative. For me, it eventually found an outlet in writing, and that’s been a big source of joy in my life. I had some unpleasant experiences sharing that stuff with people in the past, but for me? I don’t worry about it anymore. I know a lot of people that do similar stuff.

Write some fanfiction, maybe :) You might be real good at it

Anonymous said: My secret is I’m secretly attracted to people who are better than me at stuff

That’s not really my area, but seems to me that’s a pretty good thing to be attracted to. One of the sweetest things I hear around school is people talking about how their partners are going to be such good lawyers. It’s cute. 

Anonymous said: My secret is that my anxiety is crushing me. I don't want to feel this way anymore.

Oh, anon. I just.... feel you. I’ve been really struggling lately with the idea that other people move through life without that handicap, and it amazes and angers me. Why don’t I get that? Why am I like this? It isn’t fair. 

And it isn’t. It just isn’t. You didn’t ask to death match your brain every second of the day. You’re not any worse than everyone else, so why do you have to suffer? I don’t know. I really don’t.

The only happy thing I can say to you is people do heal. It’s bullshit that it takes so much time and effort, but it is possible. I’m better off now than I was five years ago, even if it did take five years and a whole lot of therapy, medication, and energy. You shouldn’t have to fight like this, but you can, and you can win. 

Anonymous said: My secret is Im so bitter most of the time that I cant be happy for others. Me and my best friend are both singers but I can never be happy for her when she gets compliments or any success bc im jealous and im scared I'll never learn to be selfless and happy for other people

You’re only human. You have human emotions. You have every right to feel them. The only thing that matters is your choices, because that’s the only thing you can control. 

I’m so sorry you’re scared. That’s another emotion you have every right to feel 

Anonymous said: My secret is that sometimes I hated myself for not express what I felt because I thought they'll hate me or make distance of me but I'm learning to express my feelings to others and try to be more confidence :) I hope you'll be brave too and do whatever you want to do 💜

I wanna be anon when I grow up 

Anonymous said: My secret is that my hands hurt all the time but in different ways, and I’m scared to get help because I’m scared they’ll tell me I’m making it up or being dramatic.

Man do I hate the shit people put you through to get medical help. Everybody’s entitled to ask, aren’t they? So why are we all making that difficult? Why are we making people feel bad about their own pain?

I understand your fear, but I hope you start asking questions anyway. Other people’s opinions about it aren’t your fault

Anonymous said: My secret is that my dermatillomania has gotten way worse since I got to college, so I’m having to wear headscarves again to keep myself from picking my scalp. I smuggled my scarf collection out of my room without telling my parents.

I’m sorry, anon. That’s difficult. That sucks. That’s bullshit. 

Anonymous said: my secret is that when one of my family members says something homophobic I'll laugh and agree because I'm afraid that they'll disown me if there's any shred of proof that I'm LGBT and it makes me feel like such filth

That’s not your fault. It’s theirs for making you feel unsafe, because your safety really should be your first priority! That’s okay! You’re not being a bad person by doing it. You’re just protecting someone. You’re allowed to make that someone you