#just saw a good smut on ao3 but it was character x oc instead of x reader like in the tags and i wanted to eat this peson alive

[madame-fear]

please guys i beg of you. do NOT put x reader in the tags if it’s actually a self-insert/canon x oc. PLEASE.

What’s the point of tagging something as x reader if it ends up being canon x oc? We want to read something that is able to include ALL OF US inside the media, otherwise we would straight go to the canon x oc tags.

Please everyone, learn how to tag your work. As silly as it sounds, it can be very frustrating for people that want to read something specific but instead gets something entirely different.

[sundrop-writes]

One Moment Per Episode With Dick Grayson

Season One, Episode One: "Titans"

Summary:

You and Dick haven't spoken since the Titans parted ways in San Francisco five years ago.

Even though you used to be as close as two people can be, both of you are doing just fine leading your own separate lives - until your psychic powers cause you to have a vision of the end of the world, and you have to turn to him for help. As much as Dick doesn't want to get involved, you know that him leading The Raven on the path she needs to travel is the only way to stop the terrible fate you saw.

He wants to deny it, and stay as far away from you as possible - but he can't avoid you or the truth that you have told him when he runs into that very Raven you speak of in an interrogation room later that night. He has to face a simple truth he has always known: you're always right.

Dick Grayson x Fem!Powered!Reader. Childhood Friends/Exes to Lovers. Emotional Angst and Bantering/Humor. Set during Season 1, Episode 1.

Word Count: 2,300

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns (some people might accuse the reader character in this story of being more of an OC and I am okay with that - I try to make all the reader characters in my other stories as blank and open as possible and every now and then I let myself have a little bit of a treat) - but as usual with my stories, the majority of pronouns used in the fic are you/yours; other than clothing style and a scar that informs her backstory, the reader's looks are not described and are left vague (as far as race, body type, hair colour, etc. - those things are not described); the reader character does have powers - I might make a separate post detailing the reader's entire backstory and power set (or I might just let it be spelled out slowly through the chapters) - but for now, I will tell you that the reader character is psychic and can see glimpses of the future in dream-like visions; the reader and Dick are 'exes' - their relationship was never official (they never explicitly called each other boyfriend/girlfriend), but they used to have sex often (and they both have feelings for each other that they never openly spoke about), and they are childhood friends, so there is a lot of emotional history there; mentions of canon-typical violence; this fic does use Y/N; mentions of the reader being shot during a past undescribed incident; there is references to sex and discussions of sex, but no explicit smut (but there might be some later in the story? idk yet); emotionally constipated Dick Grayson; idk what else ? - pining, emotional angst, using humor to deflect emotional tension, banter. I just really like the vibes of this. there is not a lot of big content warnings for this fic (yet).

A/N: Honestly, I am really excited about this one. I have a lot of ideas for future episodes (especially the episode where Dick loses it emotionally and just gets followed around by a hallucination of Bruce for the entire episode - but that's not until Season 2, oop). Titans is one of my favourite series ever - if you couldn't tell - so getting to examine each episode closer and appreciate each individual episode as a unique piece of art while writing this instead of binging a whole season gives me a whole new appreciation for the show. I hope you guys enjoy these as they come out - especially because I do have an idea of where this fic is going, but I don't know where I want these characters to go in Season 4. (I kind of want to do a secret surprise reveal of two of the characters being related and being siblings, but... idk. Sometimes people don't like that.) But this is definitely a good opportunity to send me ideas of where you want this story to go/how you want it to end up. Anyway - please enjoy!!!

....

Dick needed some fucking air. 

He could barely fucking handle today. He had to compose himself before he lost it and started breaking things. It was all such a shitshow - the department pushing a new partner on him, footage of Robin all over the news, every other half-cocked beat cop making comments about how Robin was just another masked psychopath who wasn’t that different from The Joker. 

Fuck them. 

If they only knew what Gotham was like - if only they had to deal with a department full of asshole’s on the Joker’s payroll. If only they had to watch criminals walk away because they made bail on the decision of a corrupt judge. If only they had to sit behind a desk and listen to a mother’s sobs as she begged for him to find her missing child - knowing how many people elbow to elbow with him would laugh at her tears rather than start looking. 

If they only spent one night tending to civilians while the smell of burning flesh permeated the air, with the Joker’s screaming laugh stuck in their ears because he thought that bombing a low-income housing complex was just that funny. 

Fuck all of them. 

Dick clenched his fist tight - his knuckles aching as he resisted the urge to drive his arm right through the glass at the front of the precinct. He just - he really needed some air. 

Dick walked out the front doors (rather than smashing the glass), and took a deep breath of the cool night air, trying his best to calm down. It was getting late, and things were relatively slow, even for it being a Tuesday. No influx of late-night chaos yet. He had some time to collect himself before- 

“So - Robin’s in Detroit now, huh?” 

That voice. 

Dick felt the sting of familiarity pluck at his spine, and he whipped his head around at lightning speed, looking in the direction of the voice. Surely enough - you were the one standing there. It hadn’t been some kind of auditory hallucination on his part. 

So much for time to calm himself down. 

He was immediately met with a confliction - lust and annoyance bubbling up inside of him. He didn’t want to see you again, he didn’t want you to be here, especially not without warning. But you looked so damn good - it was a distraction from that fact. 

That was always the thing about exes, wasn’t it? 

(If Dick could even call you his ‘ex’ - the two of you had slept together more times than he could count, both metaphorically and literally, but the two of you had never put an official label on the relationship like he had with Dawn or Barbara. He cared for you like a friend, and like a lover in a way that he was never willing to admit - but did that make you his ex? Especially if he never stopped caring about you?) 

That thing about exes being: they always look so fucking good when you see them after a long time of being apart. The universe dangling something in front of you that you’re not allowed to have and technically, should no longer want. 

But oh - Dick found himself wanting so very badly. (And he tried his hardest to hide that fact as he continued to carefully stare you down.) 

Because you looked so good. 

You were wearing something of your usual style - an outfit of many confusing layers that somehow showed off the natural curves of your body and hid you all at the same time. 

A long skirt with a ruffled hemline and bold, colorful pattern. A pair of boots that you had probably gotten from some vintage store that were likely older than both you and Dick, leathery and well worn in. Your jacket was much the same - a supple brown leather with a soft fur lining that made you look very warm and cozy. 

Topped off with a pair of the largest, gaudiest dangling earrings that Dick had ever seen - the kind that would have gotten snagged on one of his nice shirts and gotten the two of you tangled up during one of your hook-ups. A pair of earrings that he would have scolded you for wearing - but he would have delighted in finding them on his bedroom floor after you left because it meant having a piece of you still with him. And it would mean having an excuse to visit you later because he had something of yours to return. 

Those earrings glistened in the light of the street lamps, just as your eyes did while you stared him down with those inquisitive, knowing eyes. Looking at him with that same expression you always wore - the one that seemed to say you knew everything that he never would. It equally fascinated him and infuriated him. 

He hated the fact that you had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, causing his heart to race - had you snuck up on him on purpose? Did you find it funny? 

“Y/N,” Dick said your name curtly, still feeling a slight twinge of shock that you were standing in front of him at all. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

You let out a dry chuckle, and stepped closer to him, making his whole body stiff. His first instinct was to step backward - to gain more distance from you. But he didn’t want to seem like he was afraid of you - afraid of that closeness. So he forcefully locked his legs and stayed in place as you drifted closer, and you idly conversed back. 

“Oh, Dickie.” You sighed in return, using his childhood nickname. “A warm welcome as always.” 

Dick rolled his eyes at this. Did he really need to bother with manners and formalities? The two of you had known each other for so long, he guessed that you were both well over stuff like that. 

“Do I need a reason to be here? Can’t I just visit an old friend?” You posed, a humorous tone still running through your voice. 

He shoved his hands into his pockets as he took a more defensive stance. He quickly went from shock then to annoyance. 

The two of you were old friends - you had known each other since you were in diapers together. The two of you had grown up together, raised by a unique circus family. And that meant that Dick knew you well enough to know that if you were here, you had a good reason to be. 

(If you had wanted to chase him when he first left Gotham, you likely would have camped out in the trunk of his car, or you would have shown up at his new apartment the day after he moved in. You wouldn’t have waited this long to contact him.) 

“Do us both a favor and cut the bullshit, please.” Dick replied sternly. “Why are you here?” 

“Grumpy.” You sighed, sounding defeated. 

He waited for a moment, and surely enough - you folded, now willing to directly explain your reason for showing up in Detroit so suddenly. 

“I had a vision.” You explained. “A girl. The Raven. A lot of others consider her to be the eater of worlds, but she is the one who is going to save us all, Dick.” 

He let out a harsh puff of air, reaching up and running fingers roughly over his temple. Yup, there it was - the headache had fully set in now. He really didn’t need this. Not tonight. 

He had known about your visions for a long time. When he was younger, he had been shocked to find out that you had inherited your mother’s ‘gift’. He previously had no clue that her set-up as a sideshow fortune teller with Tarot cards and a large crystal ball wasn’t all psychology tricks and half-guesses she put on for tourists - but in fact, it was actually something informed by larger supernatural forces at play. And it was something you could do as well. 

So he was inclined to believe you when you told him about this vague vision, but he also didn’t want to be involved. He had a lot on his plate right now - he didn’t need this. 

“Look, I’m sure that whatever you saw was important, but-” He began. 

You sighed and shook your head harshly at this ‘but’. 

“Why don’t you just take it to New York instead? This kind of thing is way more Donna’s speed, anyway. I’m sure she can help you find this girl, and-” 

“That won’t help.” You told him. “The girl is already on her way here.” 

You spoke the words with such utter certainty, and it sent shivers up Dick’s spine. The calm, tranquil look on your face - the ominous wiseness you held: it reminded Dick so much of your mother. The other-worldly authority she held that had ultimately gotten her killed. It was strangely creepy. 

“Just so you know, I hate it when you say ominous shit like that.” Dick told you, gesturing to your person with stiff offense in his body. “Just because your mother played the creepy voodoo witch for tourists doesn’t mean you have to.” 

“I’m not playing.” You replied, exasperated. 

You knew that Dick could be frightened of your powers at times. He was someone very logic-based - he built his beliefs around facts. So having you follow your visions and your ‘gut feelings’ when they were never concrete, changing on a dime - he hated the uncertainty and chaos that came with it all. But you had learned to trust yourself and your feelings over time, even if he didn’t. 

“And you know, you’re involved in this whether you want to be or not.” You told him, trying to get the conversation back on track. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Robin made his first appearance in months last night.” 

Dick became stiff at this, and quickly glanced around - as though waiting for someone to appear out of nowhere and point an accusing finger at him, screaming out that he was Robin and he had been caught. 

“You can’t help it, Dick Grasyon.” You declared with intense certainty. “You need to save people, you need to feel like you’re making a difference, you-” 

“So what, now you expect me to save the whole fucking world?” Dick snapped back. 

“She does.” You corrected. 

“Who?” He replied - confused and once again annoyed at your mysticism and bold confidence in your visions. 

“The Raven.” You told him. “She needs you. And whether you like it or not, you need her.” 

You shifted your stance then, waiting for him to tell you that you were right - which was how most of your arguments ended. 

But then, as a sick reminder, the lapel of your jacket opened enough for Dick to get a glance at your chest. The neckline of your blouse was wide open, but his eyes weren’t drawn to your cleavage - instead, he became focused on a large scar that you had sitting over your heart. A place where a bullet had ripped through you, leaving you barely alive. 

He still remembered the feeling of your blood warm under his hands while you looked up at him with tears in your eyes, begging him to save you. He remembered sitting at your bedside, believing that you would never wake up again. 

He couldn’t help but to reach up and gently skim his thumb across the roughness of the scarred skin as he glared at it with a stiff jaw. The touch sent shivers through you - it was the first time he had touched you since that last night in Gotham, when you had woken up to an empty bed and absolutely no explanation as to where he had gone. 

Dick felt rage boil inside of him. 

How could you ask him to save the world when he had been responsible for this? 

This - this was why he was no fucking savior. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” He said, choking on the words slightly as he took his hand down, shoving it back into his pocket once again. He had to avoid the temptation of touching you any further. 

If you weren’t safe around him, why would some little girl from your visions be? 

“This isn’t about me.” You scoffed. “Or-” 

‘Or us.’ 

You held back, knowing how dangerous it was to mention the royal Us around flighty Dick Grayson. For a bird without wings, he was absolutely capable of taking off in a quick moment when he wanted to. 

“This is about something so much bigger.” You pressed. “She’ll be here soon.” 

Dick let out another strained sigh at you using such ominous words again. 

“Well, next time you’re gonna come here and be all ominous and creepy, you should at least bring some coffee.” He told you, sarcasm tight on his lips. 

You made a mocking face in return. 

“Well, you could be more polite.” You scoffed. 

Before Dick could recommend that the two of you go and get a coffee in order to truly catch up, someone called out his name, drawing his attention away from you for a moment. 

“Hey, Grayson!” Someone called, sticking their head out the front door. “Prentiss is looking for you!” 

When he turned back, you were gone. He tried not to linger on it too much - how creepy it was. You were silent and quick like a ghost - he thought that your ominous jewelry might jingle like a house cat’s bell. 

But - he would call you later. Hopefully you still had the same number. 

…

Dick walked into the interrogation room, trying to clear his mind of the interaction with you. When he saw a small, scared girl, he thought it best to lighten the mood with a joke. 

“Hi, I’m Detective Grayson.” He said, introducing himself. “I hear you like to play baseball with bricks and cop cars. You wanna tell me what happened?” 

“You’re him.” She said, whimpering and tearful. “You’re the boy from the Circus.” 

At first, Dick thought that everyone was simply being ominous and creepy today. But then he realized:

‘Oh fuck. You were right.’

...

A/N: Please do not ask me when this fic will be updated - this fic does not have a schedule.

While this is technically the first chapter in a 'series', each chapter is meant to be enjoyed on its own. The overarching plot of the series is still that of the original Titans show, and I won't be making any major changes to the canon of the show - I just intend to showcase smaller emotional moments between the reader character and the canon characters. This is something I want to work on casually in the background between working on other things. This fic is not my main focus, and I will not be rushing to update it or complete it.

Comments and reblogs are encouraged, and I am thankful for them - but please keep those comments focused on the actual content of the series (it's plot, the characters, their dynamics, etc.). Please do not spam me asking me to update this or asking me when I will update this - because I am not in a rush to do so. I have a lot of ideas for this series that I am excited about, but I want to work on it slowly and casually because I don't want to lose my enthusiasm for it and I know that rushing will take that enthusiasm away.

If you enjoyed this - great, thanks. But if you expect this to be updated weekly like a factory pumping out stuff on a clearly outlined schedule - then you are in the wrong place. If you are expecting constant updates of this fic and you will be disappointed if it doesn't get updated regularly - you should just block me now and pretend you didn't read it. But if you are a patient person - feel free to read and enjoy my other Titans works while I am working on updates for this (and working on other exciting things), and feel free to send me a message telling me what you thought of this fic or other fics in general.

Also - if you can't get Dick Grayson off your mind - my requests are open.

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

Heavy in Your Arms

Prologue

Summary/Author’s Note:  Back from the service and hell bent on drinking his way through Southern California, Tig Trager is a rambler. He's alone, he's lost, and he likes it that way. He stumbles into Charming, a quiet town with a large presence in the form of the motorcycle club. Here he finds more than he bargained for, and something else he never thought he would deserve.

I got a message about this story awhile back and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. This is the story Tig fans begged S*tter for and he never delivered. I have really been missing Tig lately so I edited this from its original form that I posted seven years ago. I originally posted this as an OC under the pen name thatlassiegotglassed - Which was my original AO3 back when I was foolishly ashamed of my fic. Now I don’t give a fuck. 

Pairing: Tig Trager x Reader Word Count: 1624 Rating/Warnings: Language, death, violence, blood, typical SOA stuff, eventual smut

[Masterlist] [One Shots/Drabbles]

--

"Yeah, I dumped an FXR on the I-5 and the poor bitch slid right in front of oncoming traffic...Found out she was pregnant. Really loved that one..."

June 21st, 1993

The roar of the big trucks and the swishing of the smaller cars blazing down the freeway filled his ears and would have been calming, but they were out of place. He had been asleep, safe in his own bed, the cars from the road had never been this loud. He shifted slightly and instead of cool sheets under his hand, he felt the grit of the blacktop and the wet clumps of side-road sand, rough against his skin. He did what he did every morning and slid his hand down, looking for you. You would hum contently as he wrapped his big hand around your hip and pulled you back against him so he could smell your hair, nose you awake--but he wasn’t in bed. 

He had had a dream, a wonderful dream, that he had been riding. His hands had gripped the handles as the sun played hide and seek with the oncoming rain clouds. The crisp smell of the spring air had tickled his nose and filled his lungs as trees and the tall grasses of the fields outside the city whipped passed him. You were a comforting weight at his back, and every time you squeezed your arms around his middle it brought a smile to his face. 

The weight on his head let him know he was still wearing his helmet. With slow movements, he reached up and unclipped it, shoving it off and letting it bounce against the road.

Everything hurt. Fuck. He coughed, the movement pressing his cheek back to the cool blacktop, the air from his mouth blew dust particles up and made him shut his eyes. 

Except this was no dream. And you weren’t next to him.

Shit.

He had been riding and it started to rain, and the semi cut him off and--

“Doll?” he said, his voice feeling like razor blades down his throat. He repeated but with your real name, hoping it would get your attention more than any of his terms of endearment. 

When you didn't answer, he knew something was wrong. A silence had fallen around him, all he could hear was the ringing in his ears, as he saw your body laying twenty feet from him. Your helmet had fallen off, hair spilled to the side, blood flecked your temples and down your cheeks.

He started crawling, using his forearms to drag himself closer to you as other cars came to a halt and people started yelling. If he got to you, if he reached you--everything would be okay. You would be okay.

You had to be. 

--

January 1st, 1991. Somewhere in Southern California

He had met you on a Friday. A pretty calm day, where the world was relaxed in a way that he was not. How could he be? Alexander 'Tig' Trager was, how did they say, 'fresh off the boat', back from his service, he had made it. But, he wasn't concerned with doing it ever again.

The whiskey burned his throat. It was cheap but it was plentiful and he had no plans on stopping. He would take that pathetic government check and he would put it in the pocket of the first shitty dive bar he found.

“Hey, doll!” he said, raising his empty glass at a leggy blonde standing by the bar and shaking it slightly.

She gave him a scowl, turned her nose up and quickly walked back over to a different table to sit down with her small group of friends. Apparently, she didn't work here. Shit. He almost felt like an ass. Almost. The feeling quickly went away and he contemplated getting up for a refill.

“Hey, if you're not using it, then get off.” A gruff voice said from behind him.

Tig looked over his sun glasses at a large man. The man was obviously referring to the fact that he was sitting on the pool table. With a neck that seemed to thick for his face, and large, ape-like arms that dangled worthlessly at his sides, Tig knew if it came to blows, this asshole was toast. He hadn't had a good fight in awhile and just one look told him that this could be the itch he needed to scratch.

He put a cigarette between his lips and took his time lighting it. With a lazy hand, he pushed his glasses into his short, black hair. “But I am using it, man.”

“Move.”

“Nah--”

“Listen, pretty boy--”

“Pretty boy?” Tig said. His blue eyes flashed and he smiled. The second was one of his true talents, he could twist his lips and flash his teeth, in a way that made men run for the hills and made women fall out of their skirts...or so he had been told. “I've been called lots of things, brother. But that?”

“Just move your ass, okay?” the ape-man said as he jerked a thumb back towards the bar.

Tig didn't like being told what to do. It was one of his weaknesses according to his higher-ups in uniform. They had tried to break him, get him to bend and take one in the ass for Uncle Sam, but he refused. He wasn't about to do it for some low life in some shitty, middle-of-no-where bar.

He took a long drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke over his shoulder. His pulse evened out, his breathing stayed calm, his subconscious entered that special place right before he spilled someone's blood on the pavement.

“Alright, one,” the guy started to count. 

“Oh, you’re counting, now?”

“Two.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Two and a half.”

“Three,” Tig finished for him and pressed the lit end of his smoke into the man's forehead. He may have looked like an ape, but the bastard squealed like a pig. He brought his elbow down in the middle of the man's back as he doubled over and clutched his face. Tig shoved him to the side as one of his friends came at him at a run.

“Fucker!” the second man yelled and managed to land a solid right hook to Tig's cheek.

The prick was wearing rings and Tig knew there would be blood without even looking. As he fell back against the pool table, it screeched across the hardwood floor and a few patrons jumped out of the way. His hand landed in a puddle of beer as he knocked a glass over on the felt and his brief moment of mourning was cut short by another blow to his face. That did it.

With a growl, he headbutted the other man. Skull connected with skull and he gripped his shirt, jerking him towards him before he could fall and sunk his teeth into the man's ear. Tig dug his hands into his hair and shoulder, kept his neck at a ninety degree angle and didn't stop till he felt the skin split between his teeth.

“Fucking psycho!” the man stumbled back and the ape man was back on his feet, yelling, arms stretched out and headed for Tig's neck.

Tig met him head on, bringing a firm right hook into his gut and bringing his knee up to collide with his face as the man doubled over in pain. He reached back and grabbed one of the pool balls, twisting around until it connected with the ape-man's temple. The sound was sickening and he dropped like a brick.

Tig raised up and could feel the first drop of blood slide down his cheek. He reached for his beer and pulled up an empty bottle. Dammit. What a waste. He flung it lazily over his shoulder and grit his teeth when it smashed against the wall.

“You owe me a beer,” he said, giving the man on the ground a kick. He didn't move. The fucker was out cold. He looked at the other man, still holding his bleeding ear and looking at Tig like he was about to start foaming at the mouth. “You gonna pay for it?”

The man just stood there, mouth open like a fish. Tig stooped and dug around in ape-man's pocket until he found his wallet and snatched a twenty-dollar bill from the main compartment. It'd have to do.

He heard the distinct sound of a shotgun being cocked and he looked up just as the bartender and apparent owner of the place was pointing the barrel at his chest.

“Get out, Mister,” he said, firmly. “I'll call the cops.”

“They started it,” Tig said, stuffing the money in his back pocket.

“Well, I'll finish it,” the owner answered, jerking the end of the gun towards the door. “Get out.”

“Gladly,” Tig said, grabbing his leather jacket off the end of the pool table. “This place is a fuckin' dump, anyway, man.”

The man with the ear, or well, lack thereof now, gave him a wide birth as he pushed through the double doors and onto the dark street. He pulled his packet of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket, only to flip the top open and find it empty.

“God dammit,” he cursed, tossing the box across the lot. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. It looked like he'd have to make a stop on the way home.

He threw his leg over his motorcycle and turned on the headlight. A deep glow lit up a small section of the dark parking lot as he kicked it to life and left the pathetic excuse for a pub in the dust.

--

Tell me if you wanna be tagged. I didn’t tag my Perm Tag List because I know you guys are all here for my Pedro Pascal character Fics so---I was not sure if anyone would wanna be tagged in Sons stuff.

[abri-chan]

I saw you talking about X Reader fics and trying to write for Giorno, what would you say are your biggest pet peeves when it comes to Giorno x Reader fics or just general Giorno based fics? I'm trying to write for Giorno for a fic. that pairs him with a female OC and I check other fics for inspiration apart from the manga and purple haze feedback, and it seems like there are specifically three different versions of Giorno that show up in fics

I’ll be honest the xReader fics I read are smut (yeah I know I don’t write smut myself but hey I need my porn). The fic I’m writing for Giorno is actually a somber one kinda and is about him and Dio, so no reader or OC in that one.

Also, I kinda approach readers as OCs a lot, so we’re similar there. (I do have actual OCs tho!) I would like to know more about what you think the three versions are.

I’m rambling here, and not all may be useful. These include xCharacter, xReader, or just Gen.

Submissive Giorno. I’m separating top/bottom and sub/dom here. I feel like Giorno is always ultimately in control. I kinda HC Giorno as being a thot like Dio, in that he will not hesitate to use charm or sex to get what he wants. But even though Giorno could be fine with humiliation I think even that is calculated. There were some nice examples in abbagio fics where physically it seems Abbacchio was in charge: he was getting payback for Giorno’s behavior, but emotionally it was Giorno that drove him into getting rough with him. I joke that the D in Don Giovanna stands for Dom, but I believe Giorno is always in control of how the situation unfolds, bedroom or not.

Innocent, childlike, or melancholic Giorno. This is a big one. I’ll admit I ship Giorno into what could be considered incestuous because I think his dynamics with other Joestars are interesting (he’s partly Dio after all). I used to consume giotaro/giojota/giodio for a while. Great art by some artists, but the fics I’ve read... not the best. I feel giobru falls under this category too. Not that the stories the fics tell are bad per se; it’s the characterization of Giorno that is off. It seems when Giorno is paired with an older character or manlier character he comes off either as overly naive or overly depressed. (I believe Giorno would fuck over any other Joestar except maybe Jolyne) While as far as we’re shown (through behavior, never thoughts) Giorno manipulated his capo (Bruno) and became Boss in 14 days. You can argue that maybe if Giorno falls in love he’d wear his heart on his sleeve and I don’t quite buy it because it would be too much of a drastic change. IMO Giorno kicked melancholy in the face when the nameless gangster gave him hope-- he seems “a look towards the future kind” of guy.

I’m not saying he doesn’t have any feelings or thoughts on the sacrifice of his comrades, and I do believe Giorno grew a lot in what a leader should be (specifically the opposite of Diavolo): value loyalty (Narancia, Abbacchio), be open to what your subordinates think (Mista in Ghiaccio’s fight), pay people by their worth (the entire La Squadra fiasco could have been avoided). But I think Giorno sees them as a testament or sacrifice to a bigger vision: his bigger vision. So he looks at the bad aspects with respect and awe instead of depression or melancholy. Which brings me to the fourth point.

Give power when power is due. After Giorno becomes Don describe a Don lifestyle. Don’t have Trish just walk into his room anytime or Giorno lazying around. Don’t have him friendly with Mista or Fugo, because they’re not on the same level-- there’s a huge power imbalance and idc how much Giorno values them, he needs to maintain order and hierarchy. Yes he may be 15 in some fics but he never even acted 15 in the actual story. I feel being Don forced him to mature faster-- think of how helicopter parents force their children to perform adult feats in academics (taking college classes) or arts (child prodigies in music). You’d have to deal with the ramification of a character never having a childhood and not being allowed to have one. 

Especially if you want to explore romantic relationships, you’d have to deal with how a huge power imbalance comes into play. I honestly wouldn’t even be surprised if Giorno didn’t intend to fall in love but instead planned for it. He’d task a trusted subordinate one day to find him a suitable wife (using wife since your OC is female). How would love unfold for someone that has it planned on how it should be and things don’t go according to plan?

(fourth point) There’s something wrong with Giorno. And I don’t know what it is, but I feel a good characterization would be able to capture it (if not in words in events or overall feeling it conveys). A lot of fics are not even wrong, in the sense that: yes Giorno would be overly romantic and prince charming. He’d also be unforgiving and cruel. But he’s somewhat never quite here or there. Maybe there’s something to be explore with Golden Experience Requiem: you chase a personality trait Giorno may have and realize you have return to the starting point without quite pinpointing it (just like Diavolo can never quite die).

I haven’t read PHF, only skimmed a bit, but there were some points where it gave off this vibe. For example, if I remember correctly Sheila was Giorno’s bodyguard. But then he just sends her away to find Fugo and the question is why? I mean the Don does need a bodyguard and especially trusted people-- you’d have to find another person to replace Sheila if something went wrong. You can read it as Fugo was important because Purple Haze is a dangerous stand, so Giorno must send his best wo(men). But the disturbing way I read it was that Sheila resembled Narancia’s devotion to Bruno in her devotion to Giorno. I think Fugo comments on how he thought Sheila was just as naive as Narancia at first. Did Giorno actually do this on purpose, because he knew what Sheila would remind Fugo of? That’s twisted, and I don’t know if PHF touches on that, or if it was just a coincidence: the author went for a character that resembles Narancia but not with the extension of how it would make Giorno look (this was emergent). There were also fans that screamed ‘fugio canon’ but idk did Giorno say those words (there’s this nice scene towards the end) to manipulate Fugo?

---

By the way isabelbuccellati has done very nice characterizations of Don Giovanna. Unfortunately she only has one public fic up on AO3 (it is nsfw so check at your own risk). I think the way she writes him has some depth you don’t usually see in his characterizations (these writings aren’t public tho).

But you can hop over to her tumblr and ask about Giorno, she’s a very nice person. She’s also one of the few people I’d trust to write smut of my fics.

---

Another advice would be to not be afraid to write a strong OC, because that way you can explore the characters around them through reactivity. You may end up putting Giorno in a situation that throws light into some hidden aspect of his personality.

I don’t mean strong in the sense of “great powers” or “great personality” or “role model”. I mean strong in the sense that she has presence in the story: for good or bad, with all the virtues and flaws, someone could definitely say “This is a person. This is a believable person.”

[five-hxrgreeves]

Feeling My Way Through the Darkness

A/n: This is my first fic on Tumblr! I also have it posted on AO3, but I thought I’d post it here as well- I will try to keep them on the same schedule by updating once a week. This is a Five x OC series fic; I’m late to the TUA party on here, so I’m not sure how many people will read this, but if you feel like it, let me know what you think! 

Here’s what you need to know: 

The timeline: everything is basically the same (except Ben is alive), but this takes place after season 2, where I'm assuming the Umbrella Academy stops the apocalypse successfully. The year is an alternate 2019 from the one the show has. Everything else will be explained later.

Ages: all the main characters (except Jared, one of my OCs), are 15 in body. Five spends less time in the apocalypse than he does on the show, and the OC isn't exactly a normal 15-year old. Everyone else's minds are how old they are in the show (so 30.) 

THERE WILL BE NO SMUT, we don’t stan pedophilia here!!!! 

Summary: Due to unknown circumstances of the time anomaly caused by certain members of the Umbrella Academy in stopping the apocalypse, there was a ripple in the continuum that caused an unaccounted-for effect to happen. At midnight on January 1st, 2004, seven women gave birth unexpectedly; and the strangest thing of all was that none of them had been pregnant in the first place.

This time, though, there was no Umbrella Academy to mark these children's birth to the world. Many of them lived quiet-albeit unusual- lives in the homes of their biological families, who, by 2019 and the long-forgotten news of the Umbrella Academy, were mostly used to strange occurrences happening.

Or, the wheel of time continues to turn and, according to The Commission, the Apocalypse is inevitable; it doesn't matter to them what brings it. (Prologue below cut)

Prologue: In the Beginning...

Feeling my way through the darkness

Guided by a beating heart

I can't tell where the journey will end

But I know where to start

On this particular New Year’s Eve, Lola and Richard were celebrating at home with their four-year-old-son, Jared. While they considered themselves to be loving parents, they were often busy at work and travelled around a lot, which left little time for family bonding, so they took advantage of the holidays when they could.

Lola had blonde hair and blue eyes, which was mirrored in her son; she was a petite woman, but that didn’t detract from the power she could hold in a room. Richard had short, dirty-blonde hair and hazel eyes, and he was quieter and more easy-going than his wife.

They were currently celebrating New Year’s with Chinese takeout and watching old movies on the TV. The Christmas tree still stood in the corner of the living room, and colorful homemade streamers decorated the ceiling. The family of three sat on the couch in pajamas, with Jared being the slight exception; he was also still wearing his mother’s heels and had the sleeves of her bathrobe tied around his neck to make a cape from their earlier game of fashion-superheroes (while he thought superheroes were cool, he wouldn’t want to be one; he’d want to design their uniforms.)

As the clock counted down to the new year, nothing seemed out of place. By 11:45, they switched over the channel to watch the ball drop in New York, and surprisingly, Jared was still awake- a fact he was very proud of. And, fifteen minuets later, the countdown drew to a close:

“5!”

“4!”

“3!”

“2!”

“1!"

When the clock struck midnight, the people on the screen cheered as the ball dropped. Richard picked Jared up and swung him around the room in celebration, and Lola watched them amusedly. Suddenly, her expression dropped into one of horror and fear. Something wasn’t right. There wasn’t anything obviously wrong- until there was.

Afterwards, no one could say exactly what happened, but one moment, Lola was her usual slimness, and the next, she had ballooned out to nine weeks pregnant. Her father and son were startled by her scream and sudden change in appearance, but Richard was quick to react. He hastily shuffled Jared into the next room, ordering him to stay there. He grabbed the necessary items and rushed back to his wife’s side; having helped deliver his son, he knew the basic procedure for birth.

Her face was screwed up in pain and she was breathing heavily, “deep breaths, my love,” Richard said gently, stroking her hair. Despite the suddenness of the situation, he was able to remain calm, which had always been one of his gifts.

Lola tried to comply, but the pain was even greater than Jared’s birth, and she remembered that well. Surprisingly, however, the labor lasted only minutes, and soon there was a fourth member to the Quinn family.

Richard stared down at the baby girl who’d burst into life in the span of not even half an hour. Unlike Jared- and most babies-, she didn’t cry as she was born. Instead, she waved her tiny limbs around as she squirmed in his hands, opening vibrant blue eyes to take in the world around her.

“We have a baby girl, Lola,” Richard said, amazed. He knew he could immediately love their surprise child, no matter the unusual circumstances of her birth. He handed the baby to her mother who, despite her now-exhausted state, managed a small smile as she took her daughter in her arms. While she had every right to hate or fear the child by the surprise situation, having Jared first had helped ease the shock, and besides, they had the means to raise her.

Lola looked up at her husband, “we’re keeping her,” she said determinedly.

“Of course,” Richard said, surprised that his wife might think there was a different possibility.

"Will you get Jared? He should know everything's okay," Lola requested, and her husband went to find their son.

The blonde woman looked down at the baby girl, her expression soft, "everything's okay, baby. You should know that too. I don't know what happened, but we'll work through it. Supernatural things happen all the time in movies, after all. And you're special; I can feel it."

The baby's bright blue eyes blinked up at her as if to say yes, I know. Richard returned with Jared then, who was hiding behind his father's legs. After seeing that his mother was okay, he hesitantly moved to stand in front of her.

"You have a baby sister, Jer," Lola told him, "we haven't named her yet, but she'll be a wonderful part of our family."

He stared at the baby with wide eyes, "was she supposed to happen like that? Was that how I was born?" he asked, looking up at his mother, who looked faintly amused.

"No, you were very different," she answered, "none of us know quite what happened, but she's our little miracle. You're her big brother, Jared."

The four-year-old looked at the little child in his mother's arms and frowned. He was supposed to be the baby, not this strange creature. And besides, why did she stare so much? Those wide blue eyes were super creepy.

"I don't like her," he declared.

Richard laughed, much to Jared's irritation, "I'm afraid you'll have to get over that, son. I know this can't be easy, but she's our responsibility now. Go on, it's time for bed anyway. Your mother has to rest. Tomorrow, we'll get some new baby things."

Life settled into a new routine for the Quinns. The one good thing about the baby, Jared decided, was that it made his parents stay home more often; but even then, they were busy taking care of her. Jared tried to stay out of her room as much as possible to get away from those eyes. He really didn't like them. His mom had said that if her eyes were going to change color, they'd do so in a few days, since all babies were born with blue eyes. He didn't think that would help, to be honest. He wasn't able to put it in to words with his limited vocabulary, but the girl's eyes seemed to stare with a strange alertness that even his parents didn't have. And, if he looked too long, he could swear he saw something mysterious swirling in their depths.

When he tried to ask his mom and dad to "take her back" after explaining these very valid points, they merely laughed and said he had a great imagination. Eventually, they'd decided on a name: Elena Melany Quinn. He'd thought calling her "baby" was good enough, but apparently, that wouldn't do.

As Elena got older, she became very inquisitive, and was often found in some sort of mischief. In her quiet times, though, she loved it when people read books to her. One night, Elena and Jared were being watched by a sitter, who wasn't really paying attention to them. It was getting close to Elena's bedtime (Jared always made sure to make this distinction; he was older, after all, so he got to stay up later), and their caretaker was following the instructions their parents left. After getting his sister ready for bed, the babysitter placed her in the crib, turned off all lights but the lamp on the dresser, and left the door open a crack. There was only one thing missing; her bedtime story. Elena then did something she didn't often do- she began to cry. The sitter rolled her eyes and went to close the door, but Jared stopped her, "did you read a story?" he asked.

"No," the girl said with a slight question in her voice.

"Ellie always gets a story before bed," Jared explained importantly. While he wasn't fond of his sister, he never wanted her to cry.

She huffed, "well I'm not reading a story. She'll have to go without one tonight."

Jared knew that his sister wouldn't stop crying, so he said, "can I read her a story?"

The sitter looked at him with amusement, "I didn't know you could read."

"Of course I can!" he declared (in truth, he was just starting to, but she didn't need to know that.) He slipped past her into his sister's room, "don't worry, baby. I'm going to read you a story."

Almost like magic, Elena's cries stopped. Jared looked at her with wide eyes, "can you understand me?"

The baby's mouth opened and closed, as if she was trying to form words. Pulling herself up by the handlebar of the crib, she supported herself in a standing position to get a better look at him, but still didn't say anything; she just watched him with deep blue eyes. Jared sighed, he should've guessed she wasn't smart enough yet. He made his way to her bookshelf and picked out one of the thinnest books he could find before returning to the crib. As he struggled through the first page, Elena's baby mind was turning. She knew she knew this person, although she didn't think he liked her. She thought him name was easy though, she'd heard the taller people say it, and if she said it, would it make him like her more? Was it.... Germ? No. Jar? No. "Jer!" finally came out of her mouth.

The little boy looked up at the baby in surprise, stopping in the middle of the second page, "what?"

"Jer! Jer! Jer!" the baby turned it into a chant.

He couldn't believe it; his sister's first words were his name! Jared wished his parents were there to hear it. He couldn't help smiling, "yes, that's me," he said. Maybe his sister wasn't so bad after all.

"Jer!" came his name the final time, before, "bo?"

He nodded, "yes, book."

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

When Lola and Richard found out about the new understanding Jared had for his sister, they were surprised until they learned what her first word was. They exchanged amused smiles.

[thebiasrekkers]

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff | Smut

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence (bloody violence), Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Additional Warnings: Graphic depiction of torture, graphic physical violence, captured/kidnapping, major character death

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 5,133

Tag List: @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali​, @shrimpmsg​​,

AN: And it all goes downhill from here, Ladies...

Chapter 51: Begin

“I can’t stand you crying. I want to cry instead, although I can’t.”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Seoul – Samseong; Gangnam District South Korea

9:45 AM

Jungkook was three steps from heading to the insane asylum.

One step represented each day that he hadn’t been able to track Eden down.

He barely heard the words of comfort that Jimin was giving him. He knew that it had something to do with it not being his fault, but how could it not have been? He hadn’t heard from his wife in three days, assuming she got wrapped up with family affairs and was too busy to check in on the first day. The second day had him concerned that she’d gotten hurt. By the third day, Jungkook was at his wit’s end.

Only to find out that she’d been snatched up before she ever got the chance to leave for Daegu. He shouldn’t have put her second to his job. He shouldn’t have let her leave their house to go to the train station alone.

He shouldn’t have let this happen.

The image of Eden’s beaten form in the video clip was branded across the forefront of his mind. Hoseok was angry, determined to track down the Jade Fang members who’d done this. Jungkook was angry that they were still part of the equation. They should have been eliminated years ago.

It wasn’t like they weren’t aware of what Im Changkyun was capable of. They’d seen the vicious things he’d done while they were Jade Fang members themselves. He didn’t think it was necessary to attend district meetings, feeling the rest of the bosses were beneath his standards of proper mafia leadership. Hoseok was his only equal and it appeared that he continued to see him as such.

Divine Intervention prevented Jungkook from leaving the house that night and storming the stronghold of the Jade Fangs alone. He would have burned every single one of their businesses down; he was determined to do so. Jimin escorted him home that night and there was a parcel waiting at home for Jungkook. His brother made him a drink and when Jungkook opened the package, he collapsed on the floor and cried until he could barely breathe.

It was a gift Eden prepared for him for his birthday – a handmade model of his dream car. Seated in the car were miniature figures of Eden and himself. He didn’t remember passing out. He didn’t remember Jimin tucking a blanket over him. He could only remember Eden’s face, smiling as they shared breakfast together the morning she was taken.

“Jungkook-ah,” called Jimin, pulling Jungkook out of his inner musings. There was concern painted over his brother’s face and he took a breath, waiting for him to continue. “I think we’ve covered everywhere here.”

Jungkook said nothing. Instead, he pulled out the small notebook he carried with him and scratched out Gangnam from the list. For two and a half days, they combed every single section of Gangnam they could. There was a part of him that knew that the Jade Fangs wouldn’t be so arrogant to hold her hostage in their former territory. But there was also a part of him that could reason Im Changkyun doing something so ridiculous as a form of “poetic justice” against them.

To him, the Golden Jackals never disbanded.

“What about the others?”

Jimin sighed, leaning against the driver’s side door of the car. “They’re hitting the other areas. Hoseok called in some favors from the other district bosses to let us through.”

All Jungkook did was nod. There was something off about this whole situation. Very off. There shouldn’t have been a single obstacle in the way of the other district heads when it came to taking over their territories. Yongsan and Gangnam were completely up for grabs; Hoseok said as much. Jungkook could only guess that Changkyun’s influence prevented them from stepping a single foot into their turf. He more than likely was determined to get Hoseok and the others back so they could do a mass district takeover.

“I don’t like that Tae Hyung went off by himself,” he suddenly said, meeting Jimin’s gaze.

“Yeah,” he replied softly, “I don’t either.”

Jungkook frowned. “He still hasn’t checked in yet?”

“No.”

He didn’t want to prod any further. Jimin was probably more worried about Taehyung than any of them. While it was unsurprising that he went off on his own, it was unlike him to not have checked in by now. Taehyung wasn’t a morning person, which was why they all knew that he hadn’t slept while he was on the hunt.

Then again, none of them were really sleeping.

A soft ache throbbed at Jungkook’s temple. He pressed a hand to his chest, taking a small amount of comfort in feeling his wedding band dangling from the necklace chain. He didn’t know how much longer he could handle not knowing what was happening with Eden.

“Hyung, I—”

“She’s fine, Jungkook-ah.” Jimin’s words sliced through his own, as if he’d already predicted what he was going to say. When he met his brother’s gaze, he saw the reassuring smile tinged with just a hint of worry. “If I know her, she’ll make them regret the day they decided to take her.”

“Not before I do.”

Suddenly, Jimin and Jungkook’s phones chimed simultaneously – indicating they received a message. Both looked at their phones immediately and Jungkook felt his heart rate escalate. It wasn’t a matter of him losing hope as seeing the message renewed his vigor.

It was from Taehyung.

Taehyung: I found her. She’s near Namyangju in Gyeonggi-do. Somewhere in the Industrial District. I’m heading back now.

Jungkook looked at Jimin the same time he did. Without uttering a word, they flung the doors open to the car and hopped in. Jimin fired up the engine and punched it, speeding out of Gangnam. Jungkook stared at his phone as more messages came through from the others. It didn’t take him long to figure out that they were closer to that location than everyone else. It was a half an hour drive, traffic willing.

They’d get there first.

10:17 AM

Namyangju – Gyeonggi Province South Korea

Jungkook felt like it took them a hundred years to get to their destination. With every mile marker they passed, it brought him one step closer to finding Eden. One step closer to bringing her home. He clung to the smallest shreds of his willpower not to scream at Jimin to drive faster. They didn’t need to get into any kind of accident before they reached her.

Jimin swung the car into an empty street, the desolate district eerie even in the morning light. Jungkook tumbled from the passenger side, all but tearing his seatbelt from his body in the process. Jimin called after him, but he paid him no mind. His legs ate up the ground as he ran headlong into the central area of the decrepit buildings.

No one lived in the abandoned sections of the province anymore, but the government hadn’t bothered with tearing it down. His hope began to dwindle, realizing just how expansive the district was. It would take them hours to find her at this rate.

Resisting the urge to scream, he slowed to a jogging pace before stopping altogether. Running around blindly without a single clue as to where to look would get him nowhere. They were just wasting time. There was even the chance that the group would up and relocate themselves before they could even have a chance at finding them.

Eden would be lost forever.

He heard Jimin run up behind him, clapping a hand to his shoulder. Jungkook did his best to tether his scattered thoughts, chasing away the worst possibilities from his mind. He needed to calm down and think.

“There were a few cars parked near the back,” he said after catching his breath, “we might need to go up top to get a better idea of where they might be.”

Jungkook nodded, pointing straight ahead. “I’ll head to that building down there. Text me if you find anything.”

Just as he was about to take off, Jimin grabbed him – halting his movements.

“No, we stick together.” Jungkook opened his mouth to protest, but Jimin’s glare quickly silenced him. “If something happens, we won’t be able to do anything alone. We’re stronger together.”

While he wanted to argue, he knew that his brother was right. Even if splitting up would help them cover more ground, there was a good chance that they wouldn’t have a way to defend themselves if they got caught in a sticky situation. Jungkook did his best to push down his mounting impulsivities. Charging in blindly was foolish and would most likely get them killed.

“Alright, Hyung,” Jungkook said, relenting, “let’s go together.”

Not wasting another moment, they tore off down the center of the district – eyes rapidly searching in every direction their necks would allow them to turn.

10:32 AM

Minutes crept by at a snail’s pace.

Jungkook did everything he could to keep his head together. There were too many horrifying images playing rapidly in his head, like a flipbook that ended in blood splatters. Jimin stayed at his side, matching his pace as well as his fervor. Every so often, they would stop to peek into various buildings. They climbed up to higher vantage points to get a better lay of the area, dipping off to resume their search.

Everything looked so dead from the inside out.

A scream tore through the vast emptiness, causing Jungkook to trip over his own feet and he came crashing to the ground. Jimin was immediately beside him, grabbing him by the arm and hoisting him back up. Jungkook’s heart pounded double-time in his chest; it hurt. A cold sweat broke out over his skin and he couldn’t stop his body from trembling, even though Jimin rubbed small circles on his back.

“E-Eden,” he barely managed to croak, his legs shaking to the point where it was difficult to stand. Jimin continued to hold him up. “That was her!”

The sound was close.

Jimin said nothing. He continued to guide them along the path, turning around corners until he heard his wife scream again. It was even closer. They were almost to her!

He felt his brother release the hold he had on him and Jungkook involuntarily sagged against the side of a building. He didn’t know where they were or how deep into the district they’d gone. Jimin’s expression was focused and if he was feeling any sort of turmoil, it never showed. Not once.

The building they were pressed against was yellowed from age and neglect. Numerous cracks ran along the sides and bits of paint were peeling back; some pieces flying away from even the slightest gust of wind. The window had a long crack running from an upward angle to the corner of the pane; dirty and smudged. Jimin wiped a hand across the bottom to get rid of the dirt so he could see inside. Jungkook sidled up beside him to peek in as well.

He could feel Jimin’s vice-like grip on his shoulder, pinning him in place. Jungkook’s vision blurred momentarily before regaining focus, zeroing in on the image of his wife strung up like some animal. There were a few lackeys around and appeared to be bored – as if they were waiting for something interesting to happen. Jungkook felt the muscle at his jaw throbbing viciously as he clenched his teeth, grinding them in anger.

He wanted a gun. He would have emptied a clip into every single one of them.

Jungkook tried to move, but Jimin wouldn’t let him go.

“Hyung!” came his harsh whisper, but Jimin shook his head roughly.

“Wait, Jungkook,” he hissed back, finally letting him go, “just wait.”

“I can’t, dammit!”

“You can and you will.” Jimin’s words were final. “We don’t even know what kind of weapons they have in there. If Changkyun’s willing to play dirty like this, there’s no guarantee that his men won’t fill us full of holes with guns they obtained illegally.”

Jungkook wanted to protest, but he knew that Jimin was right. They needed to assess the situation fully before making a move. If they ran in there blindly without understanding what they were up against, there was a chance that Eden would die in the crossfire.

“So what now?”

Jimin continued to look through the window and he could see the wheels in his head turning. Strategy was his strongest suit so Jungkook did his best to be as patient as possible. A handful of seconds passed before he turned to meet his gaze.

“I’m going to go in from the front.”

“What?!” Jungkook gave him an incredulous look. “That’s crazy. Are you crazy?!”

“Shut-up and listen to me.” Jimin turned to look back through the window. “I’m going to draw their attention to me. This window is loose so as soon as I get them to chase me, I want you to go in and grab Eden and then get the hell out of here.”

He didn’t like this plan.

“There’s ten of them, Hyung. Maybe more. You can’t outrun them all.”

Jimin grinned, still peering into the building. “I can try.”

Jungkook grabbed his shoulder. “Hyung!”

He felt his arm being yanked off abruptly, causing him to take a step back. Jimin cast an icy glare in his direction.

“Do what I say.”

He wanted to protest again. He wanted to tell him that this was suicide. They should wait for the others. Wouldn’t that have been the smart thing?

But if they waited too long, then they may miss their chance. The Jade Fangs could probably swarm them, call for more men, and then overtake them completely. Jungkook knew that the plan was the best option they had right now.

It didn’t mean he had to like it.

Without waiting for him to agree or even disagree, Jimin turned and ran down one side of the building. He rounded the corner and disappeared on the other side, leaving Jungkook alone to wait. There was a distinct feeling of dread sweeping over him, telling him that there was danger to watch out for. But wasn’t that obvious? Didn’t they understand that, knowingly showing up to this place?

This was unavoidable.

A loud bang rang out inside the large interior. Jungkook peered over the bottom of the window, craning his neck as best he could. Light flooded into the dark space as he watched Jimin’s shadow stretching along the floor. All the men inside turned around, grabbing what weapons they had near them to launch an assault. Jimin immediately dispatched one of the lackeys close to the door before turning to run away from the building. All but two gave chase.

Now!

Jungkook thrust the window open, causing it to break further from the force. He leaped in through the opening and charged forward. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction caused by his entrance, Jungkook barreled into the man closest to him – taking him down with a swift grappling throw. The man landed on his head; a distinct crack heard from his skull smacking into the concrete.

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, a flash of silver, and he dodged at the last second. Whirling his body around, he jumped back with his arms extended out as another man tried to hit him with a metal bat. Jungkook bobbed and weaved out of the way, moving just out of reach at the last possible moment. Pivoting on his back leg, he waited for the man to try to swing at him again before catching the bat in his hand and pulling it toward him. The man slid on his heels, the distance closing rapidly. Jungkook aimed a kick straight for his stomach and sent him flying.

He brought the bat down over the man’s head for good measure.

With the two men unconscious, Jungkook swerved around and ran toward Eden. He did his best to avoid looking at her injuries, not wanting to distract himself from the most important task he had: freeing her. As he looked at her restraints, he did his best to concentrate on her face. She was semi-conscious, the noise bringing her out of whatever fugue state she was in.

“J-Jungkook-ah?” She coughed. “Y-You shouldn’t be here…”

“Shh,” he admonished, his eyes flicking over her bindings, “save your strength.”

His hands moved with lightning speed, fidgeting over the ropes and chains binding her as she hung from a large hook attached to the ceiling. When he finally managed to loosen the ropes, he lifted her up by her waist so he could untether her from the hook. Her arms dangled limply around his neck; the chains clamped around her wrists jingling together with the sudden movement.

Her body lacked the strength to keep herself upright and she nearly collapsed to the ground. Jungkook held fast to her, moving her arms over his head so he could undo the chains around her wrists. He could tell she’d lost weight and she seemed almost a shell of who he knew her to be. He focused on getting her to safety – choosing to smother his fury into the pit of his stomach.

“Go,” she whispered as he held onto her, “get out of here.” She coughed again. “Leave me.”

“Not a chance in hell,” he snapped, draping her arm over his shoulder as he held onto her waist, “now come on.”

Jungkook wouldn’t hear anymore of this nonsense, even if it was coming from the woman he loved. She was barefoot, but there wasn’t any glass on the ground. If she didn’t think she’d be able to walk, he’d carry her on his back and dare her to say otherwise.

Shuffling toward the entrance, he could hear men yelling in the distance. But it sounded like it was getting closer. Jimin was circling back, probably to make sure that they’d gotten out. If they could hold out a little longer, the others would come and then they could cause a big enough scene to get the hell out.

Just as he reached the entryway, he turned to make sure the two men he’d dealt with were still on the ground. Satisfied that they weren’t going to be getting up anytime soon, he turned back toward the exit.

A shadow moved from the corner. Eden saw it before he did. Jungkook shuffled to the left. He was half a step short.

The pain didn’t register at first. All he could focus on was Yoo Kihyun who was now directly in his path to freedom. It wasn’t until he saw the older man take a step forward that Jungkook took a step back. But not of his own freewill. He was forced to step back.

The knife in his gut pushed him to move.

Eden screamed but he barely heard it. Jungkook nearly dropped her, but his stubbornness wouldn’t allow her to fall. Not in front of him; her captor. A chilling smile painted over Kihyun’s face as he tilted his head, peering into Jungkook’s eyes. It was like he was asking him what his next move would be without having to say it out loud. For a split second, Jungkook’s vision blurred.

Releasing the hold he had on Eden’s arm, he grabbed a hold of the knife and pushed back – pulling the blade slowly from his gut. Kihyun blinked in surprise at him, watching as he drew the older man’s arm away from his body while still holding his wife fast to him. Again, Eden screamed, but this time she moved with whatever strength was left in her body – arms reaching out in a feral manner.

She scratched her nails across Kihyun’s face, forcing him to reach up and cover his cheek. Jungkook stepped forward, pulling the knife completely from his stomach, before spinning it in his blood-soaked fingers to grasp the blade’s handle. Kihyun stumbled backward a step and Jungkook quickly closed the distance, plunging the knife directly into his shoulder and aiming a kick to his knee. He waited for him to hit the dirt before pulling Eden quickly behind him.

He didn’t have to express the need for urgency.

They both disappeared into a nearby cluster of reeds.

10:45 AM

Blood wept from the side of Jimin’s head as he rounded the corner of a building. He held onto a rusty metal pipe, clutching it at his side. He knew one of his ribs were broken, if not two, and there was a good chance he very nearly sprained his ankle hopping over a broken-down car to avoid being clobbered with a length of chain. He quickly did a tally in his head, making a note that he was able to knock down four of the eight that were chasing him. Two of them he tripped up along their pursuit and the rest were now trying to comb the nearby streets in search of him.

Hearing Eden’s scream forced him to double back toward the building where he’d left Jungkook. It wasn’t the sound of agony. It was of outrage. Something must have happened. He needed to get back to them and quickly.

Jimin wiped some of the sweat and blood from his head, spitting at the ground. Once his heart calmed down, he tried to ascertain his whereabouts. Just two buildings over and he’d be right back where he’d started.

Come on, Park Jimin. Calm down and focus.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out, eyeing the screen. It was from Yoongi.

Yoongi: We’re almost there! Where are you guys? Give us a landmark!

Taking a moment to breathe, he turned his head in every direction to try and gauge a decent landmark for the others to follow. There was a cluster of blue barrels far away from the abandoned buildings, just toward the edge where a large field of reeds were. He quickly texted him back, letting him know the location.

He slid the phone back into his pocket, gripping the metal pipe in both hands. Now he just needed to get back to Jungkook who, he hoped, had Eden in tow.

His phone buzzed again; this time in succession. Someone was calling him.

Dipping into a nearby building, he hunkered down in a shadowed corner to look at the phone. It was Jungkook. He answered.

“Jungkook-ah?”

“H-Hyung…”

Jimin could tell something was wrong.

“Where are you?”

“T-The…the reeds…”

He had to refrain from cursing. There were reeds in every direction. He took a breath to calm his nerves.

“What else do you see around you?”

There was a pregnant pause and he wondered if something was happening with the call.

Jimin-ah?”

It was Eden. His heart practically jumped into his throat.

“Oh, thank God he got you out. Are you alright?”

“Never mind that. Jungkook’s hurt.”

He could hear the frantic tone in her voice. Jimin tried to smooth his voice out in a way that would help take the edge off for her.

“Okay, just breathe. Can you tell me where you guys are right now?”

“I can’t really see anything. The reeds are so thick.”

“Can you see any barrels around you?”

“Hold on.”

It was only a few seconds, but Jimin felt like he was losing years off his life as he waited for her to answer.

“I can see some blue ones. But they’re far away.”

He resisted the urge to smile. They weren’t that far from his current location.

“How far?”

“Several yards. They’re across that dirt path.”

“Okay, good.” His side screamed at him from the position he was in, but he ignored it. “I want you to meet me there, okay?”

It sounded like she was about to sob which unnerved him.

“Can’t you just come here? Jungkook’s hurt badly and I don’t have the strength to carry him.”

Jimin hissed quietly to himself. I told him to be careful… He took a breath. “Alright, I’ll come to you. I’ll be there soon.”

“Hurry!”

Ending the call, Jimin slipped out the back of the building and made his way around the next bend. Part of him wanted to throw the pipe off in a different direction, hoping the noise would distract others away from his path. But if they got flanked, he’d need a way to defend Eden, Jungkook, and himself. Especially if Jungkook was as hurt as Eden claimed he was.

This isn’t good, he thought, tearing through the back alleyway and heading up the side of the street to disappear into the thicket of reeds.

10:57 AM

Even though he knew he’d only traveled a few blocks, it felt like he’d been moving for miles. Each turn he made, Jimin thought he was getting more and more lost. Every so often, he’d turn his head to look over his shoulder and spy out the buildings – making sure that he was still on a straight path to the others. He heard some of the other men shouting at each other, trying to figure out where they’d gone, and each of these times, Jimin would pause so that he didn’t give away his position.

Just as he was about to resume his search, he heard a distinct shuffling sound off to his right. It was close.

“J-Jimin-ah? Is that you?”

It was Eden. She sounded exhausted and halfway to the underworld, but it was her. Jimin quickly darted in the direction of her voice, parting the reeds in front of him as he went.

A lump of ice dropped in his stomach at what he saw.

There, cradled in her arms, was Jungkook. A large blood stain blossomed from his shirt and he saw Eden pressing his jacket to his stomach and putting pressure on the injury. She was crying, doing her best to keep her sobs nonexistent so they didn’t alert the others of where they were. She looked up, relief and despair battling for dominance over her features. Jimin dropped the pipe in his hands, his legs slowly carrying him toward Jungkook just as he spit up blood from his mouth.

“J-Jungkook-ah,” he stammered, collapsing to his knees.

Despite the obvious pain he was in, Jungkook flashed him a smile full of blood-stained teeth. “H-Hyung,” he managed to get out, albeit garbled from a mouthful of blood, “what took you so long?”

Jimin didn’t have the energy to snap back. He felt like part of his soul just left him completely. His eyes roved over Jungkook’s body, trying to figure out the cause of his brother’s current state. He lifted his gaze to meet Eden’s.

“What happened?”

“It was Kihyun,” she said weakly while brushing some of the fringe off of Jungkook’s forehead, “he came out of nowhere and—”

“That doesn’t matter,” Jungkook interjected, causing them both to focus on him, “Hyung, get her out of here.”

Another piece of his soul was pulled away.

“W-What?”

Eden shifted him in her arms, clinging to him in desperation. “I’m not leaving you!”

“Yes, you are.” Jungkook reached up to his neck, grabbing the necklace and popping it off in one quick motion. He smeared blood over his skin and clothes, holding it up for Eden. “Take it and go.”

She emphatically shook her head and Jimin could tell that even doing this was zapping her of what strength she had left.

“You bastard,” she muttered, curling her fingers into the fabric of his jacket, “how can you expect me to leave you? Huh?” Eden lowered herself, pulling him against her body to hug him close. “Till death do us part, remember?”

Jungkook did his best to wrap an arm around her, coughing more blood out and staining her shirt. “…and this…is where…we part.”

Eden shot back, looking down at Jungkook as tears streamed down her face, dripping onto his cheeks.

“J-Jungkook,” she stammered, her bottom lip trembling as her voice shook.

Again, he smiled up at her. “I love you, Eden.” He grabbed her hand and placed the necklace inside her palm, closing her fingers over it. “If…if I’m reborn, let me love you in the next life too, okay?”

Jimin could hear his own heart shattering in his chest.

“Hyung…take her and go.”

“But Jungkook-ah—”

“Please.”

Tears leaked out of Jimin’s eyes. It took everything he had, but he stood up and crossed over to where Eden was. She continued to hold onto her husband, refusing to let go even as Jimin tried to pull her up and onto her feet. She fought him but even she knew that she didn’t have the strength to keep it up. Jimin held her against him and they both gazed at the satisfied and peaceful expression on Jungkook’s face. He nodded to them, mouthing for them to go.

Jimin turned, hauling Eden with him as she wailed silently into the crook of his shoulder.

I’ll come back for you, Jungkook. I won’t leave you alone out here...

11:05 AM

He knew that it was only a few minutes since he watched Eden and his brother leave. In those few minutes, Jungkook believed it was several lifetimes. In those few minutes, he thought back to everything that led to this very moment. All the choices he’d made, the road he’d traveled, and the people he’d traveled on that road with along the way.

He regretted nothing up until that moment.

The only thing he knew he would have to repent for would be leaving his beautiful wife behind alone. They’d had a few chapters written in their life together, but they were pages filled with hopes and dreams for an uncertain future. Life never gave guarantees. The only certainty for life was death. It was the same for everyone.

The sun was reaching its peak over the skies. There were very little clouds littering the pale blue blanket above him and he wasn’t sure if it was the bright light that was making it difficult to see or something else. Jungkook lost feeling to the lower half of his body nearly two minutes earlier.

Again, he coughed and more blood sprayed from his mouth. Tears brimmed his eyes, slipping from the corners to seep into his ears.

My brothers…

Jungkook could feel his eyelids growing a little heavier with each passing second, but he forced them to stay open.

Eden…

But the darkness began to creep around the corners of his vision, blurring out the light until it was a faint glow in his line of sight.

He wanted to keep feeling the warmth of the sun on his face until the very end.

…until we meet again.