#so now she just looks like a body pillow venge or something ;; oh well

[rodenka]

the teeth have long departed

but the desire burns strong

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Closed Casket.

Commissioned by the very lovely @99shadowcat99.

Pairing: Yandere!Demon Brothers/Reader (Obey Me).

Word Count: 2.4k.

TW: Toxic Relationships, Dehumanization, Codependence, Threats of Violence, Mentions of Death, Implied Imprisonment.

It was a closed-casket funeral.

For such a small detail, it bothered you more than it had any right to. You hadn’t been the one to arrange it, the one to speak to the undertaker and evaluate the damage – that was a responsibility that fell to her fiancé rather than you, a distant cousin, only brought up in conversations about postponed friendships and quickly thinning family trees. You’d done what you could to help, what a last living relative should do to help - paying for flower arrangements, speaking to financial advisors, sorting through her belongs and trying to guess at what might’ve held some sentimental value to someone more present in her life, but you never saw the body. No one ever offered, and you hadn’t known how to ask. She was gone, now, dead and buried, and you'd never gotten to see her, even if everyone who had said that it was probably for the best.

And it probably was. They were probably right. You wouldn’t feel any better, if you had.

And yet, you found it difficult to believe you could feel any worse than you did now, either.

Belphegor was curled around your arm. He had been since you came back from the Human World, slotted against your side, draped over your shoulders, and currently, splayed out on top of you, his face buried in the flesh just above your shoulder blade, his body forcibly tangled with yours in a way that was too awkward to be comfortable for both of you, a sacrifice he seemed more than willing to make on your behalf. You’d tried to shrug him off earlier, when he first decided there was enough space on the smallest loveseat in the common room for his strange, daily ritual, and when that failed, you’d tried to talk him into letting go, into loosening his grip enough for you to slip away when he fell asleep, into relocating to somewhere else, somewhere softer, somewhere with a pillow that could easily replace you when he was too busy tossing and turning to care, but Belphegor had always been so frustratingly picky when it came to where, how, and when he chose to sleep.

He’d chosen you, and he’d chosen like this, and he’d chosen now. There was little you could do to change his mind, after he’d already made it up.

Still, you tried. He wasn’t asleep yet, caught somewhere between permanently half-conscious state and a sleep deep enough to warrant medical concern for most living creatures, supernaturally inclined or otherwise. “Belphie,” You called, gently, pushing the temptation to try more forceful methods into the back of your mind. “Think you pick another spot? Just for today?”

“Can’t.” It was a simple response, his voice heavy with sourceless exhaustion, just as short and just as blunt as it had been the last time you asked. You weren’t sure what you’d expected, honestly. “You were gone. I can’t.”

Your frown deepened. You’d left for a week – nine days, at most. And Belphegor couldn’t have been awake for more than half of that. “That’s not--”

“He was lonely, sweetheart.” It was Asmodeus, this time, as he perched himself on the loveseat’s arm. He wasn’t any better than Belphie, nimble fingertips soon tracing aimless patterns over the side of your neck, the dip of your shoulder, taking up the space he could occupy since the space he’d like to was already in-use. “He’ll get better, in a few days. Once it sinks in that you won't be leaving again.”

You were out of practice. A month ago, you would’ve known better than to respond, than to ask questions to someone who took as much delight in festering doubts as Asmodeus did. A month ago, you would’ve brushed him off and found your way to Purgatory Hall for the rest of the night. But, it wasn’t a month ago, and you were tired. You were still thinking about that casket, and you couldn’t seem to think of much else. “What do you mean?”

“Oh?” There was a pause, a laugh, light and melodic and fluttering. You’d always liked his laugh. You could bring yourself to enjoy it, though, not right now. “No one’s told you, yet?”

“Don’t tease ‘em.” You hadn’t noticed how full the common room had gotten, not until Mammon spoke and you reflexively turned to face the sofa opposite to yours. He was standing, leaning against the back, his hands clasped in a way that’d put his anxiety on display far more transparently than his voice ever could. Beelzebub, too, his arms crossed over his chest as his attention shifted idly between you, the console in Leviathan’s hands, and the book splayed out in Satan's lap, his scowl serving as evidence of his annoyance. It always bothered you, how easily he grew frustrated by situations he chose to put himself in. It bothered you a little more, today. “Might as well spit it out, if you’re going to bring it up,” Mammon went on, shifting his weight, letting his eyes fall to the floor, then rise to the ceiling, then drift back to you. “There’s no point putting it off.”

“Weren’t you supposed to tell them, Mammon?” Beelzebub chimed in, absent-mindedly. If it'd been Satan, if it'd been Lucifer, it would’ve been pointed, malicious, purposeful. Beelzebub just sounded like he was trying to remind his older brother of something he’d forgotten. “You said you should be the one to do it, since you met them first. Then, when Lucifer said you wouldn’t be able to do it, you said that if the human threw a tantrum, you could just--”

“I didn’t say shit.” Mammon cut him off, his tone hostile, but it was a half-hearted anger, more petty than vengeful. “I said I could, not that I would, and Lucifer shot me down. If he hadn’t, there’d already be a deadbolt on every fucking door in the house. We wouldn’t be sitting around, talkin’ about it.”

“Every door?” Beelzebub looked confused. Then, he looked concerned. “I thought we agreed to just seal the exits.”

“I still think we should just use their bedroom,” Leviathan chimed in, never looking up from his hand-held. Something tightened in the back of your throat. Experimentally, you tried to pull yourself out of Belphegor’s arms, but he only held you tighter, and Asmodeus’ nails dug into your shoulder, rooting you back into place without a single word. “It’d be cool, kinda like a permanent save-point. We wouldn’t have to worry about baby-proofing the entire house, either.”

“We could use a leash,” Asmodeus suggested, never breaking his stare. He didn’t look away. You wished he would. You wished they’d, if nothing else, have the courtesy to wait until you’d left the room to start talking about things you didn’t know and didn’t want to know. “So we can make sure they’re always close by! Or, we could have Lucifer enchant a collar – having to hold a tether might get in way when I have to--”

“He’d never do it.” It was the first time Satan had cut in, but it was clear he’d been listening. His book was still open, his expression still concentrated, but he was tapping his foot, the disruption soundless against the thick carpeting, and you couldn’t remember the last time he thought to pretend to turn a page. He was listening, but he didn’t want to be. He was a part of this, but you doubted he’d every say as much out loud. You doubted he’d ever let himself admit he’d stooped to that level. “And if he did, we’d never hear the end of it. In a week, there’d probably be a new kennel in the catacombs, right next to Ceberus’.” He stopped, for a moment, shaking his head. For your own sake, your chose to believe the envy lingering behind his voice was his attempt at a bad joke. “You would prefer a bedroom, wouldn’t you, (Y/n)?”

He asked you a question. He was talking to you, now, directly, which was more than you could say for any of his brothers. It should’ve been an improvement. An opportunity, if nothing else, a chance to ask why Asmodeus was looking at you like that, why you could feel Belphegor’s careless smile pressing into your skin, but you hesitated, something catching in your chest. It felt too solid, too heavy, too rough and too jagged. It felt like it’d hurt to swallow down, later on, once the unease passed and you got over whatever scheme they’d planned out, while you were gone.

“I… What?” You weren’t sure what you wanted to say, but it came out as a question regardless, your reluctance blending messily with your confusion. “This isn’t funny. If you’re going to act like this every time I visit the Human World, I might have to stop coming back.”

Finally, Satan glanced up from his book. If you didn’t know better, you might’ve said he was smiling. “Right. Because you still think you're allowed to leave.”

The rest of the room fell silent. Or, maybe it didn’t, maybe it was louder than it'd ever been. You didn’t know. You couldn't hear anything, not over the sudden ringing in your ears. “I’ll have to, eventually. It’s not up to me.”

Beelzebub shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “It’d be safer if you stayed in the Devildom. We can’t protect you in the Human World.”

Leviathan’s grip tightened around his console. In the background, you could hear the plastic shell start to crack. “We wouldn’t be able to see you. Not all the time. Not for more than a few weeks at a time.” He was quiet, for a moment. Then, he added, “It wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t… It wouldn’t feel like it does when you’re here.”

Mammon looked away, letting his head lull to the side. “You belong here, with us. You’re supposed to be here. We’re just doin’ you a favor. No one wants to watch you figure out how fucked you’d be on your own.”

And, finally, Belphegor groaned, exhaustion heavy in the gravely sound. He untangled himself from you, but the freedom was temporary, fleeting, his arms snaking around your waist, instead, his face soon gracelessly buried in your chest. His eyes flickered open, but barely, just enough to let him stare up at you through his eyelashes, a thoughtless grin pulling at the corners of his lips. He wasn’t divided, not like his brothers were. He didn’t try to pretend he was above holding you against your will. “You're not leaving again.” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even a threat. It was just a fact, to him. It was something that wouldn’t happen, that couldn’t happen, if only because his older brothers were willing to work so hard to make sure it didn’t. “We’re not gonna share you, anymore. We’re not gonna have to.”

You didn’t want to hear anything else. You didn’t want to be here, anymore, not if this was what it meant, not if it was going to feel like standing in front of that closed casket all over again, the urge to run and sob and scream silencing every reasonable thought you’d ever had. You didn’t bother trying to talk to Asmodeus and Belphegor, you didn’t bother trying to coo and edge and skirt around their anger, their unspoken threats, not anymore, not when your body was already standing on its own, shoving at Belphegor’s body and swatting at Asmodeus’ hand as he reached out, aiming to cup your cheek and tell you so gently to sit down and shut up. Beelzebub leaned forward, Mammon flinched, and you could’ve sworn you caught a row of long, pointed fangs flash across Satan’s sneer, but you didn’t care. You wanted to hit something. You wanted to yell. You’d wanted to ever since you came back to this damned house and its overly affectionate occupants.

“You don’t get to share me.” You couldn’t be shared. You weren’t theirs to share, even if they already seemed geared against the idea. You weren’t theirs to trap, either. You never would be. “I don’t need your protection, and you don’t need to see me, and the only place I’m supposed to be is the Human World. I don’t know what got into your fucked-up heads while I was gone, but you can’t just--”

“Sit down, (Y/n).”

You stopped mid-sentence.

Right. You’d almost forgotten Lucifer hadn't gotten a chance say his piece, yet.

He didn’t give you time to cooperate. There was already a fist curled around the back of your collar, dragging you back into your seat, the action so much more aggressive than Belphegor’s oppressive dead-weight or Amsodeus’ sweet, sickly temptation. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel Lucifer looming over you, standing tall, towering above his younger brothers as he took control of the room. You wondered if he’d been here the entire time, if he’d heard everything, rather than just your sudden outburst. You wondered if you should hope that he had.

“We missed you, while you were gone.” He didn’t sound mad. He didn’t sound mad, but none of them did, none of them sounded like they were plotting to keep you away from your home, your friends, the life you had outside of demons and angels and magic. None of them sounded dangerous, either, save for Lucifer. He’d always been easier to trust when he wasn’t pretending to be kind. “We’ve all been alive for centuries, and yet, you went and made a week feel like a small eternity. Do you know how difficult it is for a human to inflict that kind of suffering onto a demon?”

You didn’t answer. Across the room, Mammon laughed and Satan bristled. Belphegor melted back into your side, more than happy just to have his resting place scared into immobility.

“You’ll stay.” It was an order, this time. Not a suggestion, not a passing concern, but a command, something you would be expected to obey. He had the nerve to use that low, calm cadence, measured and pre-meditated. He didn’t want to let you convince yourself he was as prone to bluffing as his brothers were. “You’ll stay because we want you to. We’re willing to use force, but there’s no need for that. Is there, love?”

You nodded, your body tense and your eyes glassy, and Lucifer rewarded you with a breathy chuckle, a row of knuckles delicately pressed to your cheek. A miserable reward for such an unwilling sacrifice, but Lucifer didn’t seem to mind. It certainly didn’t stop him from leaning in, his lips brushing against the top of your head, his voice falling just low enough to make something sharp and cold shot down your spine, as he went on.

“It’s not like you have anything to go back to, anymore.”

[hlizr50]

Gwynriel Week - Day 1

Favorite Moment Together (let's be honest, there are too many)

"I can't sleep without my favorite dagger."

"A comfort to every growing child."

In honor of meeting in the training ring, here's a little ficlet:

Reunion

Read on AO3

Azriel was surprised to find her in the training ring.

The Blood Rite had only ended two days ago. Training was postponed, both for recuperation and preparation for Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony. And yet there the priestess was, heavy breaths sending clouds of steam into the frigid night air. His shadows wriggled in response to the sight, and he was able to breathe for what felt like the first time since that day they realized the three female trainees had been dropped into the brutal war game.

She was here. She was whole. She was unharmed.

He had glimpsed her that afternoon. He knew that she had survived – had won the damn thing. But with the madness of his High Lord and High Lady’s near death, the birth of their child, everything… he hadn’t gotten the chance to settle. But seeing her in the training ring, like so many evenings before she was stolen away, filled him with such a sense of pride and bone-rattling relief.

He stepped out of the shadowed stairwell, the darkness trailing him like a cape. He would have expected a scathing remark by now about him observing without greeting, but Gwyn simply continued beating the padded post senseless.

“Even Cassian said you could take time off, priestess,” he mused. “I would take advantage. It’s not a privilege often given.” The Spymaster took her in as she turned to face him, chest rising and falling from exertion. Her cheeks were pink, freckles darkened over the flush, and sweat sparkled on her brow. She gave a smile – he could always depend on her to do that – but bruised circles under her eyes betrayed her.

“Can’t sleep?”

Gwyn rolled her neck between her shoulders and flexed her fingers. “Surprising as it may sound, Shadowsinger, being kidnapped and dropped into the most brutal warrior initiation in Prythian can be quite nightmare-inducing.”

Azriel regarded her, tilting his head. Of course. He was a fool not to realize it, mind too preoccupied with knowing that she was safe, and knowing that she had conquered.

He hadn’t shared with anyone how terrifying that week had been for him. Cassian probably suspected, but Azriel made a living and a lifestyle of keeping his expressions schooled and his emotions carefully locked behind several different doors. Knowing there was nothing he could do hadn’t made the fear easier to bear, but it had made the imperative focus on finding Briallyn in that time easier to deal with. His mind had often drifted, though. Far more than he was comfortable admitting. The Blood Rite was appropriately named. It was less an initiation and more like a war. It was brutal and bloody, and knowing the caliber of warriors that Gwyn would have to face made his insides twist.

But knowing the Illyrian opinion of females, and knowing what could happen to her if even one entitled brute got ahold of her and had a taste for flesh…

The blood had frozen in his veins as soon as it was confirmed that she was gone.

The world had not been kind to Gwyn. Their first meeting had not been under pleasant circumstances. In his mind he could see her on that table, trembling and sobbing, as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. He had sworn to himself that if anyone touched her during the Rite he would hunt them down afterwards and show them exactly what the Spymaster and his dark blade were capable of. But in front of that vengeful bloodthirstiness was the stark realization that she may not even survive.

There would have been no more meetings like this, time together that he had begun to crave.

“And what of you, Shadowsinger?” She flashed that teasing grin. “If you say you’re in search of another dagger I might start thinking you’re just making excuses to see me.”

Something inside Azriel snapped. There were no thoughts, no words. He strode the few steps between them and pulled the copper-haired priestess against him, snaking an arm around her back while his other hand pressed her head gently against his shoulder.

“Surprising as it may sound, Berdara,” he breathed, his lips brushing against those soft chestnut-red strands, “sitting and waiting for a week, not knowing if someone you care about will survive the most brutal warrior initiation in all of Prythian – and being powerless to do anything about it – can be quite nightmare-inducing.” He breathed her in, the scent of her and the feeling of her body against him the final confirmation that she was alive and breathing and here. Gwyn breathed in against him, as well, winding her lithe arms around his lower back.

“Az…” she whispered.

“I nearly went mad, Gwyn. When I thought about never finding you out here again…” That was exactly what had gone through his mind. Without his realizing, she had become quite an important fixture in his day-to-day life, and when he had thought about not experiencing her competitiveness, or seeing her triumphant grin when she perfected a new skill, or hearing her call him ‘Shadowsinger’ as scathingly as she could manage – it had shredded him. When her arms tightened around him he felt his heart might burst with warmth.

“It sounds as if you didn’t have confidence in my skills, Shadowsinger,” she snickered against his chest. His shoulders shook with a laugh.

“Never. I know you were trained by the best.”

The priestess snorted and pushed away from him, fixing him with a skeptical look and raised eyebrow. His scarred hands came to rest on her hips. “It must be tiring lugging that enormous ego everywhere.”

“I’m a strong and powerful male. It’s nothing.” He flashed a crooked grin. “I appreciate your concern, though, priestess. Or shall I call you Carynthian?”

“It has a ring to it.” Gwyn gave a nose-crinkling smile. When Azriel looked into her eyes they were soft, a thin sheen of wetness reflecting the glittering stars. He tentatively raised a hand and tucked a stray copper strand behind her ear before tracing those callused fingers over the freckles splattered haphazardly over her cheek.

“I am enormously proud of you, Gwyn. And impressed. And relieved beyond words that you’re home safe,” the Illyrian admitted, not at all ashamed of the honesty.

“There was a moment,” she began, reaching up with her fingers to caress the hand at her face, “when I was hit with that arrow. We were so close to the end, and I hadn’t allowed myself to think until that moment that I might not survive. So many things flashed through my mind in a rush. I… I saw your eyes, and your smile, and heard you laugh. I remember wishing I’d had more time. You’ve become… quite important to me, Shadowsinger.”

Her words were a salve to a heart he once thought broken beyond repair, a tonic to an aching soul. He smiled wider than he could ever remember, grateful that they had been given this chance. The shadows seemed to agree, twirling around their arms and into her hair. Gwyn giggled, a melody made of hope and starlight.

“Sorry about them,” Azriel grimaced, lowering his hand to find his way to her hand and catching a few of her graceful fingers between the mottled skin of his own. “They’re drawn to you.”

“Who can blame them, really?” the priestess – the Carynthian – tittered with a sly grin.

The shadowsinger chuckled. “I certainly can’t.” Pink bloomed over Gwyn’s cheeks – spring roses under freckle constellations – and his grin grew smug. Oh, yes. He liked how it felt to be the cause of that.

Keeping their fingers entwined he pulled at her again, wrapping his other arm around the middle of her back before pressing his lips into her hair. And she didn’t flinch or freeze, which was a consideration he should have had perhaps before he chose to do so. Her fingers fidgeted with his and her shoulders lifted before a contented sigh brought them impossibly tighter together.

“I look forward to our evening training sessions continuing far into the future, Carynthian.” Voice deep and hushed, Azriel leaned his cheek on the soft pillow of silken copper. He wasn’t used to being so forward, and he still found it intimidating to outright speak his heart. He was a man of action, and he could only hope that those helped his cause.

“Maybe a nice dinner or two, as well, Shadowsinger.” He smiled, wide and bright and so unlike the spymaster most knew.

It seemed they heard each other loud and clear.

@gwynrielweek

[urimaginespimp]

Epiphany (pt. 4 of This Love)

Bucky x Reader (elemental witch)  

Read the previous chapters here: Prologue, Gorgeous, Tolerate It.

Set in Wakanda during Infinity War.  

Thank you for your support. I couldn’t hold back updating this early. :)

--------

In your years of living, you’ve only felt grief once. It was when your mother left you with the Norns to face her impending death. But you were a mere child, and memories of her started to fade away as you grew older. You thought was that simple.  

Until Bruce told you Thor might be dead.

“What do you mean he might be dead?!” you were shaking in front of your old friend.  

“Thanos was just too strong, Y/N. He got rid of me like I was a throw pillow. I’m sorry.” he told you quietly.

Your heart never felt this heavy, and you didn’t think breathing was going to be this hard. Bucky picked up that you were most likely going to have a panic attack and immediately went to your side.  

“Doll listen to me; you have to breathe. Listen to my voice.” He started comforting you the way you’d do when he’d have night terrors. But despite his efforts, you couldn't concentrate. Your vision was starting to blur from the tears threatening to fall. The only father you’ve known might be dead somewhere out in space. Would’ve it have been easier to fight Thanos if you were there to help him? You couldn’t avoid blaming yourself.  

“None of this is your fault, Y/N.” Bruce assured you. Digging into his pocket, he took out a small teared cloth out to you. You gently broke from Bucky’s arms to take it. “That’s from the cape he was last wearing. I accidently tore it off before I fell out of the ship.”  

It was such a tiny piece on your shaking palm, yet you could tell the fabric truly belonged to someone as mighty as him. And it was blazing red. Just like what you were starting to see.  

“He wants the mind stone?” you asked Bruce, and the shift in your tone matched with the anger in your eyes made him step back and nod. He’s never seen you angry before.  

“Then he’ll die trying.” you spat venomously before walking off, leaving Bucky and Bruce to look at you with worry.  

--------

You were standing next to Bucky while King T’Challa, Steve, and Nat went over to talk with The Black Order behind the gates. You haven’t uttered a word since your conversation with Bruce, and it everybody was starting to worry. Even Wanda was taken back at how strong your emotions were at the moment.  

“She’s heartbroken. But most of all, she’s vengeful.” She’s told Steve in private. “Don’t let her get carried away. Her mind’s crashing out.” She warned.

As the three were making their way back to you, you could see that a fight was about to ensue.

“You gonna be okay?” you heard Bucky asked you.

“I’m the last one you should be worried about, Buck. I might have lost the man I’ve had the privilege to call my father. But before him, I was born and then raised by different breeds of witches. The creatures with Proxima are outriders. They are mindless but they have brains in those little heads of theirs and have  blood that’s blue. But you know how much I like that color”

“Have the Norns told you we’re going to win?” he asked in curiosity.  

“I haven’t really been in touch with them. But there is something they’ve told me a long time ago that I’ve been trying to burry in the back of my mind all these years.” you smiled to yourself.  

“And that is?” he was almost afraid to ask.  

“The brain and the blood have water.” you answered flatly.  

--------

To say that the black order was terrified of you was an understatement. There was no better place to unleash your powers than Wakanda. And so, you did. You’ve blocked and thrown stones and soil, drowned some with water, caused fire left and right, played with the wind, and was starting to get the hang of controlling blood and whatever fluids were in their pathetic bodies.  

The leaders were doing their best to send their army your way to avoid personally facing your wrath. And as much as you didn’t like to admit it, it was starting to tire you out. Manipulating creatures was draining you.

Everybody else was also getting too preoccupied, that even Wanda had to go down and help. Hearing a familiar groan a few feet away from you, your attention snapped to its direction and saw the Bucky was thrown off by one of the Outriders. One in particular was trying to bite his head off so you took it in your hands to snap the creature’s neck the other way, without having to touch it. 

“Just a flesh wound.” He assured your worried figure with a small smile. “I still have my rifle.”  

You had a momentary distraction after that, when Proxima lunged your way, trying to hit you with her spear. The two of you were starting to combat each other, and she knew you were getting tired. With an unexpected attack from behind by one of the outriders, you were down to your knees Infront of her and you knew you wouldn’t be fast enough to block the spear coming straight down to you when she was suddenly thrown away with a force.  

Gaining your composure from missing death by mere inches, you looked around and saw that everybody else was suddenly freed from the overwhelming attacks of the outriders. Suddenly a blinding blue light appeared, and a man with his back on you stood in place. An armed racoon? jumped off his shoulder, and there was a tree? on his other side.  

If it were a different setting you would’ve laughed. But you were too frozen in place when you saw that bolts of lightning were coursing through him. You had a glimpse of relief but you couldn’t will yourself to assume it’s him. But the second he started charging and his voice demanded Thanos, it was all you needed make some sense of what you've seen. Your father’s alive.  

--------

“How are you, kid?” He asked you in between killing off outriders.  

“I was on my third stage of grieving. Thanks for interrupting that by the way.” you chuckled, also hitting most of the creatures with large sharpened rocks.  

“Oh, by the way, these are my friends, rabbit and tree.” he introduced you to his companions.

“So, I have a snake, a racoon, and a tree as uncles now.” you shook your head at how ridiculous it sounded.  

“Loki would’ve loved you, kid.” the tone in his voice made you know something bad happened to his brother.  

--------

When Thanos arrived, you refrained from using all the energy you have left into playing with his own blood. Your father insisted to leave the finishing to them and you respected that. You were still fighting his army who at this point, seemed to be endless in numbers, but you were holding your own well enough.  

In the midst of fighting, a sudden realization that you haven’t seen Bucky in a while dawned on you, and you found yourself running looking for him, destroying everything on your way. You needed to know he was okay. Call it a sixth sense, but something didn’t feel right.  

And then you saw it. Thor was standing alone, Stormbreaker on the ground in front of him. The air around you suddenly felt eerie, and you paused on your tracks. No.  

“Steve?” you heard his voice first. You turned to where he was and saw that he was turning into dust.  

“Buck?” you called out to him, but as soon as your eyes met, he was gone.

--------

@eternalharry  @iheartsebandchris  @lizzarooni​  @the-ayo-lit 

--------

Have a  great day!

[darlingpetao3]

House of W (Multiple!Wells x Reader, Chapter 4)

Rating: T

Summary: After having to deal with the deaths of an infinite number of Harrison Wells in the Multiverse, you, a magic-wielding meta, have a breakdown and unwittingly create a happy, fictitious sitcom life with some of your favourite men. In a world of comedy and cameos, can Team Flash and an out-of-town magician break through your powers to save you? And what if you don’t want to be saved...?

A/N: Alright! Here’s where we continue from where Team Flash left off. We’ll see Chapter 3 from their perspective, and somethings might make a bit more sense as well as raise more questions!

Tag List: @fandomdancer @bluesclues-1234 @pinkdiamond1016 @crissymadlock @firstofficer-tilly @disneyoncerlover815 @marvel-lady10 @thecaptainsgingersnap @noctvrnalmoth @alexxlynn @dontbedumb3 @heyl0lwhatsup @ryou-cosmos @arianalilyblack @sonnensplitter @imagine-yourself-happy​

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3

Barry is the first to sprint out of the Cortex, leaving everyone else in the dust and papers flying.

The rest of Team Flash and Zatanna rush after the Speedster down the halls of S.T.A.R. Labs as fast as they can to the elevator. Only when they reach it are they met by Barry to inform them of your discovered whereabouts.

“She’s in the basement,” he tells them. “You have to see this.”

Indeed, they all take a ride down to the building’s lowermost level—an enormous concrete space and incredibly high ceilings. But there is one thing very much out of the ordinary here.

“Holy Forcefield, Batman…” Cisco says at the sight before them all.

A glowing, translucent purple sphere surrounds what looks to be an empty set—the set of your magical sitcom everyone had been watching for the past two episodes. It’s eerily dark and quiet. Chester can’t seem to resist its beauty and mystery as he walks even closer toward it and reaches out a hand.

“Careful Chester-!” Caitlin warns him a little too late. Chester yanks his arm back after touching the forcefield with a yelp. He looks at everyone.

“Are you hurt?” a concerned Barry asks.

“I…” Chester shakes his head in disbelief. “I saw something awful. It was, uh… from my childhood. I thought I’d forgotten it…”

“Why don’t you go sit down for a bit?” Caitlin ushers the poor traumatized man to a seat by the wall.

Meanwhile, Zatanna utters a few backwards phrases and moves her hands in the direction of the purple sphere. The gang waits to hear of what she’s learning.

“Just as I thought,” she says at last. “This forcefield (Y/N) has put up is embedded with Anarchy Magic. And it seems she’s made it so that whoever touches or tries to break through her magic will experience trauma and heartbreak from the trespasser’s life.”

“How tragically fitting,” Caitlin comments sadly as she thinks of you and all you’ve been through. Barry takes this information in and stares into the darkened sitcom set.

“What are we going to do?” Cisco wonders out loud.

“This could be our chance,” Barry says, already churning out the beginnings of a plan. “Zatanna, do you think you could breach through (Y/N)’s forcefield with your magic?”

“I’ll need a little more time to study it, but yeah,” Zatanna assures, “I think I can.”

“Great. We’ll prepare ourselves while we wait.”

“Wait for what?” Caitlin asks. Barry turns to her.

“For Episode Three.”

~ ~ ~ ~

The part of the S.T.A.R. Labs basement which Team Flash has access to has now been essentially transformed into half campground/half studio audience seating. The latter was Cisco’s idea, naturally.

Everyone had stayed the night on mats and foldable tents found in the Starchives. A certain longhaired engineer even made the correlation that this felt a lot like camping out in line in front of a theater for a much-anticipated movie release.

After staying up too late theorizing and plotting your safe return, the campers are rudely awakened by a jingle—a very groovy disco-sounding theme.

“Iiiiit’s startiiiing!” Cisco shouts, making sure to grab his pillow and a bag of pre-popped popcorn

The others—Caitlin, Allegra, and Chester grumble and mozy out of their sleeping bags, whereas Barry and Zatanna burst out of theirs with a raring purpose.

Through the forcefield, they can see a flurry of Wells men running around the house doing various tasks in preparation for your impending baby. It all feels very real to the onlookers, not fake or acting on any of the doppelgangers’ parts. They really do believe you’re having a baby.

Barry doesn’t want to fully believe it. Part of him still wants to believe this is all for show—a fictional world with pre-planned plots and storylines. It would be so much easier for him if that were the truth.

Because the other option was a lot more painful to deal with.

Even as everyone watches and laughs along at the antics, none of the ‘stars’ on the other side of the magic forcefield can hear them.

“She looks like she’s gonna burst,” Barry notes at your exponentially growing size. “At this rate, she’ll have the baby by the end of the episode. We need to help her. Zatanna, Caitlin, are you ready for what we talked about last night?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Caitlin says.

“Let’s do this,” Zatanna replies. 

“Great.” Barry sighs a worried breath. “Caitlin, I’m giving you this comms so that we can keep in contact even on the inside. Zatanna has bewitched it to look like an earring. And I’m going to let Cisco take the reins on walking you through what to say since he is apparently this show’s number one fan.”

“Gotcha, boss.”

“Uh, guys?” Allegra pipes up. “Her water just broke!”

“It’s now or never,” Barry exhales.

Zatanna holds out her palms toward Caitlin, then speaks in a clear voice, “Mlaer moctis eht edisni ylefas niltiaC dnes.”

At this, Caitlin vanishes before the team’s very eyes. Everyone can only hope she is safely on the other side of the forcefield.

“And now we wait,” Zatanna confirms.

“Popcorn?” Cisco proffers his bag to everyone.

“Shhhhh!”

With Caitlin now officially in the sitcom realm—clad in a white doctor’s coat and a stethoscope hanging around her neck—the door whisks open in front of her to reveal Nash Wells. Even for her, seeing his face again is a shock. While she and Frost were away with Doctor Tannhauser for a time, she had received word from Barry saying that Nash and the other Wells had sacrificed themselves.

And yet, here they all are, standing in the doorway with panicked eyes about the fact that you’re having their baby.

Oh, right! This is my cue, she thinks.

“Uh, hi,” Nash says, a little confused. “Who are you?”

~~“Remember, you can’t give your real name in case (Y/N) catches on. You have to play along,”~~ Cisco advises in her ear. She remembers that he, along with the rest of Team Flash, can see her on the other side of the forcefield. To her, however, she merely sees a plain wall.

“Yes, hi! My name is C… uhh...”

~~“Say Elsa, say Elsa, say El-”~~

“Elsa?”

Dammit, Caitlin curses mentally. Frost laughs in the back of her head while Cisco cackles in her comms. The doctor, now thoroughly annoyed, plays with her earring to turn off communication with the outside world. Cisco’s prank could have cost them big time. She’s going to do this herself. No distractions.

“I’m a doctor,” Caitlin continues. “I was making the rounds in the neighbourhood and heard some yelling coming from your home. Are you in need of a doctor?”

“Actually, yes,” Harry confirms. It’s so strange. He’s looking right at Caitlin—they all are—but they truly do not recognize her. It makes your friend realize just how powerful you really are.

Meanwhile on the outside, Team Flash is having mixed emotions about the birth of your baby. Barry is still in disbelief that he is becoming an uncle before his eyes. Cisco, Chester, and Allegra are fanboying and fangirling over the moment. And then there is Zatanna, watching with a neutral expression.

They watch Caitlin help deliver baby Liberty, although entirely and conveniently out of view from the “camera” and the transparent forcefield.

But when the surprise of Belle arrives, well, that earns literal applause from Cisco.

“Do you think they’re real?” Barry quietly asks Zatanna away from everyone else.

“I’m still unsure,” she answers. “They sure all look happy, though.”

Barry doesn’t respond to this.

Once the babies are safe with their cooing fathers and you’ve magically seemed to have cleaned up from the ordeal of birthing twins, you approach Caitlin.

“Doctor Elsa, I can’t thank you enough for your help today,” you say to Caitlin. For a moment, she forgets you’re referring to her with the accidental alias. “What a coincidence that you showed up at my door just as I was going into labour! You must have a sixth sense about these things.”

“It’s a gift!” she says pleasantly. “But really, how have you been doing? Are you well?”

You give her a curious look. “Yes, of course I’m well. I have two beautiful daughters and four wonderful husbands. A house full of love. I couldn’t be happier.”

Caitlin knows she shouldn’t press on anything about the ‘behind the scenes’ of your sitcom reality, but this is all so confusing and mysterious that her scientific mind can’t help but form a myriad of questions.

“What is it?” you ask.

Caity, I’m not sure… Frost begins to voice her worry in her head.

“It’s just…” Caitlin drops to a whisper so as to not let the Wells men hear, “how are they here?”

Your face drops. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“Your husbands. They… died. Vanished. How did you do all of this?”

Your entire body glows with a purple aura, and Caitlin half-wonders if you’re starting to levitate slightly.

You look like a vengeful and magical angel of death.

“Get out,” you tell her.

“(Y/N), no, please, listen,” she tries, but it’s too late. A powerful blast of energy hits Caitlin in the gut, knocking the wind from her lungs and backwards. Her body comes in contact with something hard, then squishy, and…

“Ronnie?” she says. “No, please…”

What she sees is all around her as she’s pushed back through the forcefield—the death of her husband, Ronnie Raymond. It’s like it’s happening all over again, watching as he flies up into the windy vortex above the city as Firestorm. The last time she’ll ever see him alive again.

“Caitlin? Caitlin!” Barry worries over his friend. She looks totally out of it as she lays on the concrete floor, safely back in reality once more. “Are you okay?”

Caitlin grunts, her brow furrowed. She’s trying to keep everything she saw inside. For a second time.

“Yup, I’m good,” she claims. Allegra and Cisco help her up and over to their makeshift audience seats.

Barry sighs and soon becomes lost in thought. “You know what I still don’t get?”

“What’s that?” Zatanna replies.

“What about in the last episode where they were working at S.T.A.R. Toy Manufacturing? Those were our hallways upstairs. And I don’t see any extra sets. Do you think the forcefield, I dunno, moved with them?”

“If that’s the case, it would be as if (Y/N)’s magic is writing and rewriting itself. And if so, as she moves, everything around her gets recreated. Like the era-changing set. That’s what we see on screen. It’s like a battery that was left on.”

“So what, does that mean eventually she’s going to run out of power? Or short circuit?”

“That, I still don’t know. This kind of magic she wields is unlike anything I’ve seen before. I’m learning about it as much as you are.”

Cisco does a little jog over the two conversing theorists.

“How is she?” Zatanna asks the engineer.

“Not physically hurt… but I can see that she is inside. Emotionally.”

Barry’s lips press into a thin line.

“Hey, so, do you think the Wells can… get out of her forcefield radius?” Cisco asks the magician. Instead, Barry answers first.

“Knowing (Y/N), she wouldn’t have made that an option.”

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Artemis Rising

The story of a Goddess and a Demi God, star crossed lovers whose story was lost to the complexity of history. The truth is they were wronged. All because of the jealousy of a brother. Can they escape their fate in a modern age? Can reincarnation allow her to finally reunite with the ones who loved her?

genre: angst ; reincarnation/Greek mythology au ; werewolf au

pairing: Yoongi x reader; ot7 x reader ; ft: Ateez

warnings: abusive relationship, physical abuse towards reader, vengeful ot7, inaccurate description of Ateez as aggressive (they’re sweet babies I swear! But Eomma needed a bad guy), fighting, character death, of age drinking (more to be added mayhaps?)

Word count: 3197

Chapter 2

Above the moon waned, it’s glorious light barely casting a glow upon the stilled seas that would normally grace sweet Gaia’s shores.

“My child, why do you weep so?” Leto stepped from the shadows. The soothing calm that normally encased the Titan Goddess of motherhood was gone, replaced with a sense of distress and panic at the sight of her precious daughter weeping upon a piece of sea swept driftwood.

“Mother…” Artemis sobbed, reaching out to the tall figure and crumpling into her lap.

“Artemis, my darling. Speak to me. Who is the cause of your tears?”

It took the moon goddess a while to answer, so wrapped up in her grief that her entire body trembled and the moon shed a little more of its light, now barely a sliver in the sky.

“It’s O...Orion. He’s...he’s gone mother. By mine own hand…”

Leto gasped, pulling away to stare down at Artemis with wide eyes.

“The young hunter boy? The one who’d caught your eye and joined you in your hunts?”

“The very same. Oh mother what do I do?”

The night wore on as the goddess of the moon wept, seeking comfort in the arms of Leto who could only stroke her back in comfort and attempt to soothe her broken soul.

The sun began to rise, it’s golden glow muted and pale as Apollo approached.

“Son. Is this your doing?” A hint of anger leached into the benevolent Titan’s voice as she gave her only son a heated stare.

“Mother...I…”

“You knew it was him!” Artemis stood, short sword in hand as she rounded on her once beloved brother. “You knew and you challenged me anyway! All of this born of your stupid misplaced jealousy!” 

“Sister, please I just…”

Artemis cut him off, lunging forward with all of the intent of driving the golden steel of the Gods through his chest.

“Artemis no!!”

***

Panic gripped me as I lunged forward, arm outstretched as if attempting to reach...something.

I shook my head in bewilderment, hoping the motion would wake me up enough to remember the dream that had left me with tear stained cheeks and a pillow soaked in my own grief. As with every other dream of mine though, it’d faded too fast. A wisp of a thing fading away in the morning light.

I sighed, finally allowing my hand to fall to the coolness of the bedsheet. A glance beside me let me know that once again Hongjoong had woken long before me...that or he’d never come to bed as the sheets beside me were as cold and empty as always.

I sighed again, letting the loneliness of the early morning caress my cheeks and dry the tears left over from the formless nightmare. Eventually I was able to get myself motivated enough to get up and start the day. It was honestly a perk working from home that I didn’t have a specific time to get up. But I preferred working on my writing early on in the day so that I could have the evenings to myself to relax and do whatever needed to be done before Hongjoong got home.

After a quick shower and change of clothes I made my way down to the kitchen in the hopes of having a quiet breakfast.

"Miss…"

I couldn't help the squeak that left my lips when Yeosang's strong, deep voice echoed through the vast expanse of the kitchen. Eyes wide I stared at his broad back, confused as to how he even knew I was standing in the doorway. Standing at the stove was Seonghwa, cooking away in a world of his own.

At Yeosang’s acknowledgement of my presence Seonghwa glanced over to me. I couldn’t help but wither under his intense stare. A frown formed between his eyebrows as he took in the bruise on my left cheek that I’d failed to cover up with several layers of concealer along with the way I shrunk away from their combined stares.

Neither of them commented though and it came as a relief that they turned back to their respective tasks after a moment more of silence. 

“There’s omelet rolls on the way. Meat’s cooked and on the table.” Seonghwa’s words weren’t spoken to anyone but I knew they were aimed at me. Whispering out a quick thank you I scurried over to the dining table, head down and eyes pinned to the small pile of bacon sitting before me.

The rest of the meal was delivered quickly, the imposing men’s silence deafening as usual as they seemed to tiptoe around me. I’d come to expect and accept it at this point as it seemed that each of my bodyguards was absolutely terrified of reaching out to me in any way.

I could have used the comfort. Used some sort of touch or a soothing word to get through the monotony of my days. But I suppose that’s what Yoongi was for…

So I turned to him. Once dishes were done and put away I began texting him, checking in on his day, asking the usual best friend questions and hanging on to every time the phone would vibrate while I worked in the relative quiet of my little writing corner. Before I’d even realized it, the day had moved on without me.

I glanced up out of the window, startling myself at the abrupt darkness that had swallowed the day and cast the world into the deepest recesses of twilight. Somehow I’d missed lunch and dinner, and the hunger gnawed at my stomach in a way that made me nervous just thinking about it.

Hongjoong would be home by now, and the mere thought of facing him after last night set me on edge.

“Have you been holed up in here all day?”

I couldn’t help the squeak of fear that escaped me. Whipping around I stared wide eyed at Hongjoong who’d somehow walked into my office without me hearing and was leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hongjoong...I...I didn’t hear you come in…” I pressed my hand against my chest, struggling to still the rapid beating of my heart.

He smirked, dropping his arms and pushing away from the doorframe. His movements were so smooth, so calculated. My gaze swept his figure as he stalked towards me like a predator, noting he was still in his business suit and tie though the latter was untied and hung loosely from his neck.

“Good. You weren’t supposed to.”

I shrunk down in my chair as he towered over me, shadows cast on his face making it hard to gauge his mood or what he could possibly want with me.

“Your meeting. It went well I hope?” No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t shove the slight quiver in my voice down and I hated myself for it. Hated that his presence alone struck such a level of fear in me even without him having done anything.

“Hmm…” His noncommittal hum echoed through the room and some part of me screamed in disgust at the way my body sagged with relief when he turned away from me and moved back to the bedroom door.

“I met with a few social acquaintances of mine.” Ever so slowly he closed the door, as if shutting the world out of our conversation. It wasn’t really necessary, no one here would ever dare walk in on him without announcing themselves first. 

“Oh?” My tongue darted out to wet my lips and his eyes followed the motion almost hungrily. I couldn’t help but suppress the shudder of fear that raced through my bloodstream.

 “You’re...acquaintances with that popular boy band...yes?” I couldn’t quite tell what he was after. His tone of voice was flat, almost as if he was already bored with the conversation even though he’d been the one to initiate it.

I turned in my computer chair to face him fully, watching as he leaned heavily on the closed door and folded his arms over his chest.

“I’m friends with them, yeah. Is...there…”

The sly grin that flashed across his face set every alarm bell ringing in my head. He was planning something, and the implications could honestly mean anything but none of it was anything good.

“I want you to invite them to the party tomorrow night. Make sure they come, no exceptions.” 

I blinked, head tilting to the side as I followed his every move. He pushed away from the wall, stalking over to me slowly. It took everything in me to sit still instead of retreating back into myself as the predatory threat loomed over me in the form of Hongjoong’s imposing figure.

I stared at his chest for a moment as he pressed his hands on either side of me on the desk, effectively caging me in. When I’d finally found the nerve to look him in the eyes the fire there had me instantly shrinking in on myself.

“I want them there, no exceptions. No excuses.”

“Y...yes, okay Hongjoong…”

He continued staring at me for a long moment, face morphing into various emotions from distaste to mistrust and finally settling on neutral disgust. Grabbing my chin he pulled me close, sealing his lips against mine in some form of possessive dominance that had me melting in to him despite every cell of my being wanting to pull away and protect myself from him.

“That’s my good girl.” Patting my cheek he turned and marched off, leaving me confused and irritated with myself for the display of weakness.

***

“Hyung, remind me why we agreed to this again?” Jungkook coughed, slim fingers curled into the collar of his tie as he struggled to breathe around it.

“Because y/n asked us to, that’s why.” Seokjin growled, grabbing the young boy by the arm and twirling him just enough to reposition the tie accordingly and allow Jungkook to breathe.

“Well, I mean besides that…'' Jungkook blushed, eyes darting through the entryway and into the rest of the massive mansion. It’d taken everything Yoongi had to convince them to take their one day off to support their best friend. They’d been all for it up until he mentioned it’d been to support Kim Hongjoong’s ‘important announcement’. At that point they’d just about all gotten up and walked away until he mentioned she’d begged him specifically.

“Well here’s to hoping the food is at least good…” Taehyung muttered as he shoved his way into the entry hall and tossed his overly long coat at the poor overloaded coat rack in the corner.

“I swear if that fucker tries to make trouble for her tonight I’m going to tear his throat out.” Hoseok growled, eyes narrowed to slits as he’d just spotted the man in question.

Hongjoong strutted across the hall, disappearing through the large glass doors that led out to the lanai and the massive back yard where the main portion of the party was held.

“We’ll do no such thing.” Namjoon said. He placed a calming hand on Hoseok’s shoulder, giving the younger men each a piercing look that set them back to their relaxed state of alert once more.

“At least not until she’s ready to let him go and come home with us.” Yoongi huffed. He nodded for the lanai. “Let’s get out there, our girl needs us.”

The group complied, putting on their idol faces and smiling and waving to the small crowd that gathered as soon as they stepped out into the fairy light lit backyard. Finding her wasn’t hard. She flitted to and fro, handling one disaster or another while keeping a small smile plastered on her face as she played hostess to the hundreds of guests that’d been invited to witness whatever it was Hongjoong had planned to announce.

There even appeared to be several high ranking members of the press hanging around. Most hovering over the buffet style food tables while others interviewed various members of the staff along with guests in the hopes of getting an exclusive on what this party could be about.

“Vultures…” Yoongi muttered as he nursed the cup of punch he’d been handed by some faceless waiter.

“Aye, but they have their use. Keeps the eye on Hongjoong and off of me.” The soft voice that whispered beside him had him instantly grinning.

“Well hi there gorgeous.” He turned to her, eyes darting over her form to take in the sultry green dress she’d donned. The silken material hugged her in places that had him salivating, luckily though he was able to school his features quickly before she or anyone else could notice the hungry look he’d barely been able to control.

“Oh hush Yoongs. You know this is my least favorite dress.” She blushed, turning away from him to subtly fan the heat rising in her cheeks.

“Yeah, that may be. But anyone would be a fool not to appreciate what you’re flaunting.” He snickered half heartedly, hoping she’d take it as a joke and not as the truth he so desperately wanted to scream at her no matter who happened to be watching.

“Thank you for coming, Yoongi…” She whispered, eyes darting over to the grand stage Hongjoong had insisted be set up in the center of the garden.

“Anything for you little moon.” His words went unheard though as Hongjoong chose that moment to clear his throat into the microphone and interrupt any conversation that may have been taking place.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! I’d like to have your attention for a moment if you don’t mind!”

“As you are all aware, my family has been a leading edge to our beautiful city for many a generation. My father swore to uphold the law to the best of his ability, and when he passed several years ago it left a void in so many people’s hearts. His father before him served as well, standing with his fellow citizens to fight against oppression and the government corruption that’d been keeping us all down up until his final breath.” Hongjoong bowed his head as the crowd applauded, cheering his forefathers and shouting various praises as to Hongjoong’s own accomplishments.

He held up a hand, shooting them all a winning smile as they quieted down to allow him to continue.

“Pompous prick…” Yoongi muttered, taking a sip of his punch to hide the movement of his lips.

“Tonight we are gathered here, not only in celebration, but in unity. To come together not as reporters and millionaires and chefs and idols. But as fellow citizens brought together by a single cause, to make this city great again! To make our neighborhoods safer and our children safer. To bring us all together under one unified cause so that we can make Seoul great again!”

The crowd roared to life, cheering Hongjoong’s name and surging forward to crowd the stage as he smiled upon them on like so many obedient children.

“And so!” He spoke over the cheers, somehow making himself heard despite the noise. “I’m officially announcing myself as being in the running for mayor. Rejoice! For change is here!”

The woman beside Yoongi squeaked, her face deathly pale as she seemed to be on the verge of either throwing up or passing out. Yoongi knew that look, knew the impending panic attack that came along with it and began ushering her towards the relative safety of the house.

“Yoongi I…”

“Hush little moon, let’s get you inside and away from this crowd.” His fingers curled around her arm and she seemed to want to lean into the touch, but just before they could reach the door she stopped and turned to him with a wide eyed stare.

“I...I was supposed to make sure we had more sauce for the shrimp cocktail… I...I can’t go in just yet…”

A throat cleared behind them and Yoongi instantly dropped his hand, turning to address the newly announced politician.

“Hongjoong..” Yoongi nodded, barely a jerk of his head in confirmation of the man’s presence really but it was just visible enough as to not seem disrespectful of the man’s status.

“Ah! The famous Min Yoongi!” The politician grinned, pulling his woman close and gripping her hip tightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard many good things about you from my precious fiancé.”

Yoongi grunted in response. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, claws growing and sharpening in response to his growing rage. At the first pinch of pain as they broke the skin he released his fists, forcing his fingers to hang limply at his side.

“Y/n, have you dealt with the catering issues my dear?”Hongjoong turned to her, eyes piercing into her own. It was him dismissing her from the conversation.

She glanced over to Yoongi, eyes filled with apology as she bowed low to the both of them, nearly bent in half as she excused herself from the conversation.

Hongjoong watched her leave, his stare predatory in nature as he watched her disappear into the crowd.

“I heard you’re running for mayor.” Yoongi spoke quietly, knowing the puffed up man would be able to hear him over the noise of the crowd of partygoers. 

“Ah, you have?” Hongjoong turned back to Yoongi, that predatory glare still filling his eyes with an insanity that only those born to create chaos and destroy others could possess. “It’s a lofty goal I know. But I feel the need to change things comes with power. And this world could really use a little bit of change don’t you think?”

Yoongi knew he didn’t mean positive change of any kind. This man was far too prone to violence to mean anything more than chaos and destruction. 

“How does y/n feel about all this?” Yoongi casually took a sip of his drink. He angled his body away from Hongjoong slightly, eyes darting around the garden. He spotted Jimin and Namjoon heading towards y/n and a small part of him relaxed greatly.

“Y/n? Now why would her opinion matter in the slightest?”

At that Yoongi returned the entirety of his attention to the mad man. “Why...she’s going to be your wife soon. Doesn’t the idea that she’s being thrust into the limelight bother her?”

Hongjoong shrugged, lifting his glass to take a sip of champagne. “Honestly no. She knew my goals before she said yes. If she has anything negative to say about it she’ll tell me and we can address it accordingly.”

The pure menace in his tone let Yoongi know the discussion wouldn’t be very long and would almost surely end up with her gaining a new bruise or two, if not a trip to the hospital.

“For her sake Hongjoong...I really do hope you have her best interests at heart…” Yoongi turned to the man, his drink long forgotten as he fixed the man with a fierce glare.

“Because if anything else happens to her and I find you...you’ll wish you’d stayed in whatever gutter hole you crawled out of to get here.”

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 019

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Hey everyone!! I know it's been quieter around here, but enjoy the chapter I hope! Sort of sweet filler. Billy nurses a hungover Evie back to life as they reach a common ground with their relationship. Evie returns to school as the new Keg King. Chp title is after that Depeche Mode song. TW: Light light mention of a past r*pe/abuse & Pica. Smut!!

***My tag list is wide open, just shoot me a msg to join it! Chat with me about the chapter if you have the time! Enjoy! xoxo

Chapter 19: One Caress

   Death. Hot, swampy death. Somehow mixed with frigid chills. 

   Evie cracked her eyes to light and moaned. Loud enough to wake the body spread on his back next to her. Billy spied her. Curls spiraling endless directions. Knotted all over. 

   Face pressed into the pillows, Evie held her thudding brain. Figured it might be unspooling around a cracked skull. There was movement as Billy reached over her to pull the curtains further closed and block the early morning sun. 

   “You seriously woke up at seven with that bad a hangover. Figured you’d sleep in longer. Must be a pride thing.” Billy hummed and draped his arm over her. Casual as can be to tuck back in. He made this rumbling sound into her shoulder blade and sighed out.

   Evie realized finally she wasn’t alone and scrambled up, almost tumbling over the bottom edge of the bed if Billy hadn't snatched her wrist.

   “Easy!” Came the sharp hiss. “Take a moment to remember last night if you can.” Brown eyes squinted to blink at him. Blurring the gold honey of him together. Billy made a face. “Jesus, you’re looking at me like I’m taking a dump here, Evangeline.”

   “Oh, jeez,” Evie fisted her curls so he let go. Her eyes began to dart, finding the events and piecing them. Little by little. “Jesus Dolly Parton Christ.”

   “That’s some poetry I like.” Billy reclined, covered in a loose sheet looking his insufferable cupid self. One hand behind his head while he tapped a rhythm into his abs. Evie moaned again, curling up toward the curtains.

   “I did a keg stand…”

   “Oh, yeah, you did.” Blue eyes rolled. “Your highness.”

   “Did I puke on anyone?”

   “Just some sorry ass purple primroses.” He’d snarked with some amusement. “You almost got me, but I aimed you just fine.”

   “Shit. I’m-”

   “You’re gonna piss me off if you apologize again. That’s a stupid girl habit you need to shake.”

   “Stupid girl habit, pfffs. I’m Billy Hargrove. I'm perfect and glowy with the face of a damn cherub. Know-it-all.” Evie huffed and mumbled to mock him but Billy continued.

   “You just did to me what I did to Harrington. Figure I had it coming. I’m still Billy-The Shit-Hargrove. Smoke and mirrors as you think.” His chest rose and air blew out his mouth. “We didn’t do anything, I just helped you home as you poured your tasty heart out.”

   “Yeah, uh… It’s all coming back. Argh...” Evie rubbed her face and aimlessly waved for him to stop talking. She noticed Billy still had his jeans on, no shirt. Then, spied her own outfit under the robe. “The hell are we wearing?”

   “You were keen to flash me those Fenny wiles so I tied you into the drunk girl straitjacket. Took some wrangling, but I think I earned the gold,” he blinked, “and I didn’t wear anything under the denim. I figured jeans were better than you waking to my huge, raw morning wood...unless you’re into that.”

   He winked which earned him that scrunchy scowl he loved to see on her face.

   Evie collapsed back on her front. Cursing daylight. Lingering black makeup still smeared around her eyes.

   “Okay, well, I can die now. Officially. Thank you, Billy, for bearing witness.”

   “No, no, I’m nursing you back to health today. We both smell like party. Get up. Water. Pills. Shower. Gonna shower at my place and then I’m coming back for breakfast. I’ll make your birthday up to you if you’ll let me. Hope you let me, cause I’ll bug you another two months until you don’t.” Fingers tugged for messy curls until she grumbled.

   Evie poked those bright eyes up. 

   “There was talk of a couch day. I remember.”

   “You remember everything?” Thick lashes batted the vulnerability away. She softened.

   “Everything. Feel like death,” she said, “but waking up in your arms wasn’t so bad.” Billy brightened, liking that. Maybe too much because he looked smug. “So, the couch. You and me. Us. Can you manage that? Relaxing with casual stimulation.”

   “Oh, say stimulation again. Slower,” Billy uttered and Evie rolled her eyes. “Gonna let me come back over?”

   “Maybe.” She hitched and whined, ruffling her curls. “Knowing my mom, she’s gonna stay until closing. Around six or seven tonight, she might go party straight from the shop. She's made that a habit on weekends. I don’t know, as this year is going she’s just home less. City friends. Dating. And I feel bad cause it’s almost easier.”

   Billy didn’t comment.

   “My throat still hurts from last night and we do smell pretty ripe...gonna shower. Clean these sheets too.” 

   “We haven’t even made a proper mess of them.” Billy came up on his elbows with a suggestive look. They shared another beat before his tone changed. “I should have stayed.”

   “I wish you did. But, I also wish I didn’t run into Fredrick’s arms after that dance. It was stupid. We can both make idiot decisions. Still young, I guess.” Evie turned her eyes. “But, you’re here now and we’re not yelling at each other.”

   “It’s a whole new world. Keg King.”

   “I need to forget that.”

   “School won’t. None of the schools there will forget it. Betcha even Tannen knows.” Billy pushed up and Evie followed, stretching until something cracked delightfully. “Heard from him?”

   “Something with a DUI or two… I don’t know. He made his threats already.” She stopped to pet Blue, shifting the kitten off Billy’s coat while he snagged his shirt. “Tell Max I said hi if she’s around.”

   “Give me thirty.” Billy took his coat, gave her ass a pat, and waltzed out. Unworried. Evie dragged into the shower. Stood there under the warm spray with her head pressed against the cool tiles. Swallowed some aspirin down and slid her eyes to the container of cherry red pins.

   There wasn’t a melancholy welling inside her empty gut, but she found it odd. This craving to indulge. To swallow sharp objects and let them click around musically inside her. Make them part of her routine. Eat artificial things until she was made from them. A doll on the top shelf threatening to take a tumble.

   Wet curls hung over her shoulders and breasts. Evie closed the mirror and looked at her body there. Head tilting. Towels fell around her feet. She opened her palms, arms slighting lifting in a submissive motion. Evie thought to cover herself but didn’t. Imagined a shell opening so the world could look at her. Admire her. Pluck her free and decorate her with tiny diamonds and opals. Maybe seaweed and shells like a pretty siren.

   The mirror lights washed her flesh out as they would an old starlet. Flash. Romancing Evie as she blew kisses to an empty lens, hoping to be loved beyond it. She might die if they don't all love her. Want to screw her. Want to open her up and peek inside. Flash. Keep her at arm's reach if they don't like what they see. Flash. It doesn't matter because she's still a wondrous thing to covet.

   She imagined several hands piecing her parts together. Painting them with deft brushes. Evie could sit on a shelf still. She could also let them loop red strings around her broken limbs. Contorting fingers walking her upon a empty stage with the same washed-out lights. Evie would be anything for them. Give anything for eyes and lights and brushes that caress her.

   Hands pushed her curls back over her shoulders. Evie really looked at her body. No shame. No sex. No fear. No disgust. Just flesh and blood and muscle wrapped around bones with marrow made of that electric stardust. Flesh that offended the world, they had to fetishize her to stand her. Nothing really mattered if the lights washed her away though. The lights would tell them to love her regardless because she was the next great thing.

   Flash.

   Lips pushed into the mirror's reflection, breath ghosting to leave an imprint that faded as she leaned back. Her neon demon flitting out to curl and poison the world so she wouldn't have to choke it down alone.

   “I don’t want to be them,” Evie sneered there, “they’ll want to be me.”

   They’ll claw. And scrape. And scream. And die. Just to be a second rate version of Evangeline. Steam rose around her, placed adoring kisses upon her skin.

   A kiss and a promise wrapped in that vengeful neon demon she fed and hid from the world that had ruined her. Broke her parts to pick and choose the best. A demon she still kissed and tried to preen with kindness because Evangeline tried. She tried.

   Evie hadn’t been cruel. She told lies. She made messes. But, she tried and she had always hoped that would count for something. It didn’t with her father. Or Mona. Not even Fredrick, he liked her mutilated. But, Evie tried to hold onto that kind girl with fire and hopes to create music that rained to make flowers grow even bolder. She deserves something. Anything.

   She was already carved out by this life. Felt like she might hit bone if she dug any further. Piles and piles of ash spilling out longing veins. Organs delectable enough to feed on from souls that sapped her vitality away. What else was there to do but scream until someone heard her? Scream for the girl she lost. The people who would never care to understand that. Scream until they were forced to scream over her. Until they were all roses falling at her feet.

   As she looked at herself here, Evie wondered if that girl was even alive anymore. And if she’d already let her down. If she could be forgiven. If she could forget a specific howl of thunder that came after crackling lightning. Lips near her ear to preen so sweet.

   "My little mouse-"

   Flash.

   Hands shaking, she thrust the mirror open and pricked her finger on a cherry pin. Blood beading before she settled it upon her tongue to devour it. 

   It didn’t make sense. She was happier. Today, she was better. She was in control. But, this... It was built into her. Settling comfortable with everything else. A need. A hope. A cycle. An addiction. Girlhood was a horror story written by a true romantic. This, she knew well.

   Just once, Evie figured. She could wean off it. She could gather her parts and sew them back together without help. Carve the person she lost to the world in something stronger.

   It’s fine. This is fine.

   Flash.

   Unable to see whoever was in the mirror now, Evie shut the lights out and hurried away. She pulled a long sleeve tee on with a faded floral design. Decided leggings were a god-like invention and was stuffing socks on when Billy let himself back in.

   At the sound, she clenched her stomach as if he’d walk in and see the artificial fragments that made her up now. A softer breath puffed. Everything was neatly hidden inside. Soon to be a part of her shelf collection. Footsteps came to her while she bent over to toss her wet towels in the hamper.

   “Can’t knock-?” Evie was spun around into an oncoming hard kiss. Lips colliding before Billy hitched and pulled out. Fireworks burst.

   “Hey, I waited for that.” He winked and went into the kitchen. Owned the space. “You look like hell still, Evie. Couch. I’ll make you something greasy to eat.” 

   “Ugh, I won’t even fight you on this...and you’re well aware of that.” Evie fell onto the sofa. Sagged. Heard Billy clicking around. “You’re not gonna make a mess, are you?”

   “Quit worrying, let the master work.” He peered at the kitten eagerly eating from her dish.

   Evie heard something sizzle and flipped TV channels. Turned the brightness and volume a little lower while she draped over the sofa's arm. Tried to distract herself as the meds kicked in. Melting around her pricking pin. Billy padded back in with a paper plate. Something stacked high on it.

   “What did you…?” Evie blinked and sat up to make room for him so he put the plate down. Still warm and steamy, gooey cheese oozed from fresh bread. “Grilled cheese. Oh hell, that actually looks really good.”

   “I made a bunch. Stuff that hangover.” He spied her and stole the remote. Evie was too busy leaning over to pull a cheesy sandwich apart to fight him. Readily, leaning into Billy’s shoulder, Evie got comfortable there as they shared a silence. A hot, greasy meal that was perfection. Even a few laughs over the TV. 

   She forgot about pretty made up dolls. About that girl she lost. About whatever was trying to take its place. About screaming and thunder.

   “I think we should set some ground rules for this thing since we’re obviously avoiding labels,” Evie said during a commercial, wiping her fingers on a napkin before she pushed up. “Water?”

   “With ice if you really wanna impress me.” Billy kicked back and heard her scoff. “What do you mean, rules?”

   “I mean,” the sink started running from the kitchen, “just...you wanna be with me and I wanna be with you and we’re not gonna bring a third party into that. Basic ‘don’t screw this up’ rules.”

   “Unless you’re into it.” Billy cracked his cheekiest smile as she returned. Ice clicked in two glasses. Billy put one arm up on the couch to gesture so she tucked in there. Cups clicked and they hydrated as if a mission was afoot. 

   “Ah, use the coaster.” She leaned forward so they could set the drinks down. Billy rolled his eyes and sat back, legs spreading.

   “You worry too much, I know how to tell people I’m seeing a girl.”

   “How public can we be? If I try to kiss you or, god forbid, hold your hand at school...will you be weird about it now?”

   “No, and just give me a slap if I get weird on you again.” He shrugged. “If I wanna slip you my tongue or smack your ass, are you gonna get all squirrely on me?” Billy tipped his head back when he felt her chuckle.

   “Depends on who you do it in front of. I figure you’ll use your brains for that judgment. I hope.” Came the softer reply. Evie curled into the warmth of him. Stared at his neck and watched the muscles and veins shift under tanned skin. Wondered about sinking her teeth there. “You can get handsy within reason. Do that thing where one person slips their hand into the other’s pocket as they walk.”

   “I’ll give you the John Hughes fantasy if you throw me a little pornstar now and then.”

   “Bet you think every nasty thing you say makes me blush.” 

   Evie wiggled down and settled her head in his lap. Eyes snapped down to see her face crinkle with a brighter smile, still only somewhat fatigued from the night before. Curl spiraling long over her shoulders and his thighs. He caught one around his finger. Twirled it with a thoughtful expression before he looked at her eyes.

   “You are beautiful, Evangeline Fenny.” Billy had to sigh it. A fierce and tender proclamation. A stunning spell cast over her like a thin veil. Twinkling jewels. Flash photography.

   It became clear that they held power over each other and that this was the closest she’d ever gotten to her name in lights.

   And Evie did blush. She didn’t look away from his eyes. For once. Not when they flickered to catch her gaze. Lost in Billy, she rose and turned over on her hands and knees. Leaned toward him carefully. Billy inhaled her perfume, got this fluttered look as she took his chin and tipped it to place a delicate kiss upon his throat. Another touched the line of his jaw.

   One muffled sound fused them together. Evie’s back hit the couch. The remote fell with a clatter. Fingers laced, Billy shifted her hand next to her head. Saw her pause to kiss his knuckles. Tough with scars from too many fights that burst them open. 

   Fingertips gave this gentle caress of Evie’s hairline with his free hand. Careful as if something here could shatter. Thick lashes fluttered so she turned to look up at him there. Words crushed in her throat. Almost pleasurably.

   “Open your mouth.” Billy longed to taste the fragmented syllables. Lips parted. A finger swept the kiss-puffed swell of them. “Little wider.” His own mouth curled. Thumb rubbing a circle into her chin before he came down. A vaguely sweet-salty kiss. Tangy, almost reminding him of that balmy California air.

   Evie matched him. Pushed back. Cupped his face. Made a heavenly sound that vibrated into him.

   And she leaned out as if struck by lightning.

   “What’s your middle name?”

   “What?” He laughed, watching her lashes flutter. Hand midway to touch her breast.

   “Your middle name.” Evie fingered the metal pendant when it hung down from his neck. Traced a line across his collar before tucking spun gold behind his ear. 

   “Why?”

   “So suspicious.” She tugged his tee so he’d kiss her again. Slower this time. “This, Billy, is totally a date. So, I’m asking about you about you.” Frankly, Evie wanted to know every little, silly thing there was to him.

   “Feels like that perfect, lengthy ending of a date to me.” The snark had Evie pouting. Stopping anymore kisses he dared to plant. Billy gave pause. “It’s stupid. My middle name.”

   “Well, now you have to tell me.” She shifted so he could drape his weight across her, one elbow planted near her head. Billy rolled his eyes. Cringed.

   “Seamus.” He mumbled, sparking. “Don’t laugh. Mom chose it after an ancestor on her side.”

   “Just smiling cause you told me. That’s not bad!” Evie pressed her lips when they trembled. “William Seamus Hargrove.”

   “Yeah, I sound like a creepy lighthouse keeper who's really into masturbating.”

   “One out of two.” Evie squealed as he pinched her side for that. “Marie!”

   “Huh?”

   “My middle name. Marie.” Arms looped loosely around Billy's shoulders. They wrapped each other up, spoke intimately of casual subjects. All too easily. 

   “Evangeline Marie Fenny.” He gave it a taste. Liked it.

   “Uh-huh.” Evie’s fingers twirled idle into Billy's curls, massaging circles into the back of his warm neck. “My mom got the middle name from this famous Voodoo Queen in New Orleans. She thought to name me Christine, Wendy, or Beatrice but when I was born, she changed her mind at the last minute because she saw me and said the name just came to her from this epic poem. Said it was star-worthy so she plucked it down from the night sky and kept it as her own.”

   "A star?" He panned to focus on her expression relaxing.

   "It's a lot to live up to." Something to grieve deeply in that.

   “Hm. Voodoo Queen. So, do you like to turn boys into creatures when they cross you? Frogs, goats, and bats maybe? For sacrifice?”

   “I mean, that’s the first thing they teach us, obviously. Voodoo is actually peaceful and balanced, it just has a violent misconception because of racism. It’s an even exchange of life and energy. A relationship you build with actual effort. Signature.”

   “My mom might have liked it, she was spiritual-like.”

   “My aunts know more. They were pretty worked up when my mom branched out. I like to think she balances a couple religions to get by. She does the same thing with hair styling…and boyfriends.” Evie puffed, eyes elsewhere. “Just a jukebox, she changes the song by whatever is gonna comfort her most that week. I just tell people she’s open-minded and she is.”

   “My dad hates your mom more than he’s hated any neighbor we’ve ever had. And we used to live across from these guys he didn’t like me talking to. Said they were living in sin. Well...he used worse words.” Billy admitted, vaguely entertained because Neil loved to spit words only when backs were turned. He was a coward. “They were always nice to me. Owned this fancy cake shop so they sometimes gave me a truffle if I was playing on the apartment steps.”

   “I can picture you small. Face all messy with chocolate.” Evie gushed there. “Probably the cutest thing. Bet Neil hated them more for being sweet.”

   “The one and only time he spat the word out in the open, one of those guys broke his nose. I got the brunt of that anger later, but it was worth it. Just makes me like Mona more.”

   “I’m sure.” Evie blinked, sighing elsewhere under Billy’s gaze. “My mom and I have a disconnect, but I am proud of her. She’s so educated despite having me young even if people don’t know it. She’s marched for human rights and she’s braver than she knows. She always stands for something and I hope I can one day too. Even if her big, noble causes distract from her home life.”

   Evie paused with this searching look. Unsure if she should indulge the thought that swept her eyes. Gently, she continued.

   “I don’t think her mom ever loved her. Nana was always so cold to her, not like with the older sisters. I noticed that young. She might have liked me only cause I was her one and only grand-baby.”

   “Why’s that?”

   Evie flickered her brown eyes again, frowning.

   “You can’t repeat this, not even to me.” A sigh followed when Billy nodded. “When my mom and dad got divorced...that Christmas break she took me back to N’awlins. They live in this big place, I used to think it was a castle. Her three older sisters, growing old together. Nana was with them until she passed away. I used to hang out in the attic when I wasn’t at their store. Going through boxes of memories.”

   “Yeah.” Billy nodded for her to go on.

   “My mom wasn’t supposed to be born. Nana had her sisters. She had this husband. Perfect life. A shop to pass down. One night, she was closing and a man attacked her. Held her down and…” Evie swallowed. 

   “Oh…”

   “He hurt my Nana bad. I don’t think she was ever the same, how can you be? But, she got pregnant with his baby. Kept it and that was my mom. I think my mom spent her whole life trying to make up for it. I’m sure she knew.”

   “How so?”

   “My grandfather left not long after she was born and..my Nana wrote him this letter I don’t think she ever sent. It was begging him to just take Mona and love her right. It was full of apologies and, I think she was gonna kill herself. I don’t know what changed her mind. But, I found that letter and read it. It was in my mom’s things. Under the floorboards of the first dollhouse she ever made herself. She must have found it all the same. Maybe when she was my age.”

   “Probably wasn’t an easy thing to find for her.”

   “Right. Might explain why mom can only handle the dainty things in life. She just wanted to be loved. So, I think after that...I tried even harder to be perfect for her. I know she loves me and her mother never loved or wanted her. She tried so hard for everyone even if she’s bad with the negative. We’re friends. She always tells me I saved her life so I’m scared of letting her down. What if I can’t save her one day?” Her voice cracked so Evie swallowed a lump down to level herself. 

   Billy felt that prick his heart. Deeper than he liked. But, the advice still came out clear.

   “That’s not your job, Evie, you need a mother. You have plenty of best friends.”

   “I thought she married my dad cause she loved him, but really I think she married the first person who promised to care for her. Who whisked her away from her mother’s cold house. It worked out that he was always traveling for work. It feels like everything I thought I knew about my life wasn’t real.” Evie caught herself, eyes on Billy’s pendant. She hoped it protected him. Well enough. “But, my dad. I bet he thinks about me every day. I know it.”

   It was always striking and peculiar how Evangeline spoke of her father. Billy pictured a string being pulled from her back to rattle the same peppy sayings. Over and over again until perhaps she believed it too.

   Evie paused to stare at Billy thoughtfully. With the pull of her string, she switched modes to become something else. 

   “What kinds of things to do you like to write about?” She asked with this dreamy sort of expression crossing as if the words before were all imaginary. She was fine. Her mother was fine. Her father, he…

   It was all fine. Picture perfect. Paparazzi flashing to send her into a sea of spots. Memories wiping.

   “I don’t know, anything to not be here.” Billy caught himself, both of them still wrapped around each other. “Not here, I mean. I’m here.” 

   Billy seemed to realize how present he was and shifted off her.

   “The words almost don’t sound real.” Repetition. A mild chuckle. “I’m here.” He sounded them out carefully. Evie pulled up. Stared at Billy sitting on his knees between her legs.

   “That’s it.” She said. “Labels and rules aside. As long as we’re just here, I think we have a handle on this. I can manage that, can you?”

   I’m here, Billy gave this closer look and nodded. Earring dangling. Fingers twisted his ring around.

   “Are you going to tell Neil or Susan about this?” Evie’s question made him pale noticeably.

   “Hell, no. It’s better if my dad doesn’t figure it out. Don’t like him talking to you.”

   Evie didn’t argue with that.

   “I don’t think I want to tell my mom, she’s just a lot when I’m seeing someone or liking anyone point-blank.” Evie winced.

   “Don’t freak on me if I pull from you around my dad. I don’t trust him near you. He’ll say shit and you don’t need that.” Billy peered aside until Evie took his hand, shaking it almost officially.

   “Deal. Screw Neil.”

   “Oh,” Billy laughed, “you're still a funny girl, Evie.” Eager as can be, he cupped the back of her head. Kissed her into the couch. They forgot the dull aches that kept them so grounded. All giggles, she squirmed out to escape him. Left Billy breathless and tugged as she got up. “Wait, where ya going?”

   “Um. My room. Duh.”

   He lit up and tried to play cool which melted the second he scrambled to scoop her from the floor.

   “Ah!” Evie wiggled and clung to him. Feeling his muscles bulge and strain as they always did. Made her heart sing. “We didn’t discuss this!”

   “If I can lift it, it’s mine. You spent all last night challenging me, what do you expect?” Billy jostled her which had Evie wrapping her arms tighter around his shoulders. Barely squealing.

   “Okay! Don’t drop me!” She squeezed into his arms and balled up. Billy laughed all the way to the bedroom. “I didn’t wash the sheets yet.”

   “Even better, let’s make a bigger mess of them.” Billy dropped her playfully into the covers. Pulled his shirt off as Evie sat up. Eyes falling to the hard contours. He relished that she liked to look at him. Fingers wrapped around her wrist, encouraging the cool palm into his skin. Up the deft lines in his stomach. “You can touch, I won’t charge you for it.”

   She dropped the awe and pushed from him. Laughing back into the pillows.

   “You’re such a pain.” Evie stiffened because Billy dropped down to crawl up her body. Pretense gone. One hand cupped her jaw. Urged it open as fingers stroked the silky cheek. Thumb curving the swell of her parting mouth. Evie kissed the pad and let the digit slip along her tongue. 

   “You’re so good.” Billy shuddered when he felt her tongue whirl obediently around his thumb. Breathless. Evie reached down to undo his belt. Sly as can be. 

   “You’re eager.” She whispered coolly against the wet thumb tracing a line down her chin.

   “I haven’t been laid much the past few months, I’m collecting. Times I tried didn’t work. Sue me.”

   “Poor thing.” She cooed, working his zipper down until Billy bit his lip. Hips shimmied between her spread legs. He jerked her hips up to get the underwear and leggings off in one expert pull. “Did you think about me when you tried?”

   Billy narrowed on her. Sighed as a hand slipped into his jeans. Moaned.

   “Yes.” He stole himself a kiss. “Couldn’t even measure up to that kiss in the street.”

   “Remind me how that went.” Evie hitched a laugh and he smothered her down. Scared the syllables with his tongue.

   Billy pulled her hair for good measure, pushed his open fly into her bare skin. He didn’t waste time this hour as she moaned and pulled for him. Adjusted to find her core. Hips snapped together, both of them mostly clothed in disarray. A good ache built as he moved. Hard and intent like he was making an impression into her flesh. Into her marrow. 

   Evie would remember him and this time and how he played her. Totally. Neither of them would be running. This moment was about the long haul together. They kept slowing to just look and breathe. Noses nuzzling. Soft exhales in turn. Billy broke kisses to push his face up against her hair and jawline, arms sliding underneath her to cling. He let Evie whisper sweet things into his flesh. Let her hold him just as close.

   At the sweetness of her coaxing, he spilled inside her. Earlier then he meant.

   “Shit.” Billy started to push up when Evie’s legs caught his hips.

   “Stay,” she puffed, “stay like this for a bit.” She prodded and pawed, openly needing him. So very bad.

   “I’m crushing you.” He mumbled into her cheek. Trapped in heat.

   “I like it.” Evie’s arms looped his shoulders. Both of them got the shakes. “I like how you feel right here.”

   “You didn’t come yet.” Hot breath ghosted her neck.

   “It’s okay.”

   Billy blew air into her jaw. Kissed the line of it before he reached down to finish her.

   “Yeah?”

   “Ngh, yes.” She mewled out silently. "Oh, Billy." That was his favorite song in truth.

   “Atta girl.” Billy kept planting kisses. Evie twisted with nowhere to go. Whimpered until she was locking under him. Mouth back open for his slow tongue. She reached a peak and let him slowly bring her back down.

   Lips muffled into her collar. He stayed there inside her. Took every piece of comfort she offered. One hand reeled up to pet her curls. Arms kept him firm against her so he could listen to her twittering heart slow and lull. Fingers danced too delicate across flesh.

   Evie whined as he pulled out. Felt the absence burn hot. 

   They messed the sheets. She was still pulling for him until he pushed her over. Wrapped himself around her after fixing his jeans back up. Leaving them open. Evie shifted, restless until Billy kissed behind her ear.

   “Just sleep. Not going anywhere.” Billy’s words lulled her back to relax. “Quit squirming about it.”

   She stilled, fingers trailing up the hair on his arm before she dropped her head to the offered bicep. Evie tilted Billy’s wrist to see the watch, groaning.

   “It’s not even noon.”

   “Maybe you’ll think next time before you get up hungover on a weekday before eight,” Billy mumbled into the curls. 

   “Only did it for the Hargrove grilled cheese.” Evie closed her eyes to sigh. "You fell for it."

   “Guess we’re both screwed.”

   “Mm-hm.” She let her mind flutter. Felt Billy’s hand stroking her bare thigh. 

   Fingers moved up her hip. Kneading the flesh. His palm trailed over her tummy and she didn’t stop him. Didn’t clam up at a boy touching her fuller areas. Billy worshiped her skin. Breath hot into dark curls. She almost wondered if he was trying for another round massaging her hip like that with dancing fingertips. 

   “Hard to nap when you...when you touch me.” She sounded breathless.

   “Like touching you,” Billy mumbled. “Gonna figure out a way to prove it to you without the label. This thing.”

   “For a boy who likes to talk, I notice certain words are hard for you.” She felt the arm under her wrapping tighter, pulling her further into his fire. “Not judging. I have problems words too.”

   “Still good with my mouth.” Billy shifted hair from Evie’s neck and jaw. Settling his lips there, lazy as can be. “And my hands. But, you still have something nagging you tell you I’m not being truthful about the exclusive thing. Gonna figure out how I can make that up to you.”

   “If I really didn’t trust you, Billy, I wouldn’t have let you stay here.” Evie shifted around to face him, still laying on his bicep. There was plenty of fear. Fear of exposing her heart and vessels and nerves to be plucked. Fear she'd like him more than he liked her. Fear this relationship would be such an easy thing to fall into.

   "That's honest." He decided, lashes batting. Evie reached up and traced this curving line near his mouth.

   “Just be with me cause you want to be and try not to raise your voice if you’re upset." She dropped her hand. "It’s okay if you’re upset, you can tell me. It just freaks out when men raise their voices. It’s like thunder and I...I’m scared of thunder.” 

   Evie recalled the passive-aggressive way Fredrick would slam things when he was upset with her instead of outright telling her. How he’d wait until she was near tears and begging his forgiveness. Billy studied her eyes. Saw lightning flash within them. Knuckles came to her cheek. Gave an idle caress. His soft lips found her brow and lulled her heavy eyes until they began to flutter. Billy laid there and watched Evie fade, let her sleepy frame tuck into him. Under his chin. She found solace. 

   He thought of the men in her life and his life who raised their voices. Who hit. Who broke them down to a series of parts they can pick and choose from to make a doll that suited them best. This image they placed up carefully for protection, it may have shattered them both distantly. Billy didn’t want to be a piece of thunder in Evie’s life. Striking to make his points so she wouldn’t forget them. 

   But, Evie slept so soundly in his arms. Barely twitching while his hands roamed her body. Under the shirt down her bare back. Threading into fluffy locks of thick hair. These little caresses that were her lullaby. It made Billy believe with all his soul that he’d never be like them.

   And it made it so easy for him to follow her in darkness.

** ** ** 

   “You’re awfully quiet, Max.” Evie turned her head in the seat. Trees whizzed by illuminated with little flits of the morning sun. 

   “Just a test today, I guess.” Max had her backpack clutched close in her lap. Almost hiding behind it. She hinted a smile. “I gave Billy shit this morning.” Billy snorted in the driver’s seat, nodding. One hand idle on Evie’s knee. Hot through the denim.

   “She did. Neil wasn’t around.” 

   “Hey...I told Will and them I’d go to the arcade. Just to hang out after school. I’ll be home before dinner.”

   “Does Neil know?” Was all Billy asked.

   “Yes, he thinks I’m just going to see El. Stays quieter if I’m seeing the Police Chief.” Max plucked up her skateboard. “I won’t need a ride so you guys can make-out.” She snickered while Billy swerved to park at school.

   “Yeah? Beat it.” He shifted his seat, patting Evie’s knee to make her wait there. Max jumped out and hopped on her board.

   “She does seem off,” Evie remarked more so to herself.

   “Things at home are off, it’s making it weird for her and her friends.” Billy shut the door with a hard look. Exhaling out his nose. “It was bound to.” Evie watched Max skate down the hill around other students. Seemingly isolated. She didn’t push the subject and wiped the frown aside. Mauve lips upturned when she peered to see Billy staring at her face. Not reaching for a smoke yet.

   “Got something for you.” He said instead, fishing into the front pocket of his denim jacket. “Tried to figure out how to make this official for you. Here.” 

   Billy dropped a silver chain in her hand without ceremony. The silver ring he wore on his middle finger hung from it. Evie wondered what he’d fidget around with now when he was deep in thought.

   “I don’t have a class ring or Letterman jacket for you because I’m not a douche. But, guys do this. Don’t they?” Billy peered at Evie eyeing the ring before she met his gaze. 

   “It’s perfect.” She turned, gesturing so he could help her put it on. It sat lower than the little music note she usually wore. Evie debated it and pulled her dad’s necklace off, looping it around her wrist as a bracelet because she wasn’t ready to part with it just yet. Maybe it not being in plain sight would make her easier to look at for Mona. “Thank you.”

   “My mom got it for me. She had it in the family and said it would fit me one day. That and this chain.” He fingered the saint pendant. 

   “I’ll be careful with it,” Evie promised him. 

   “It sits exactly where I wanted it to.” Billy flashed some pride.

   “Over my heart?” Her eyes glimmered.

   “Over your tits.” He laughed when she shoved at him, tugging his collar in for a kiss. 

   “You’re gross,” Evie mumbled, pecking him once more. She fingered the ring and beamed. 

   “You’re into it.” Billy turned her chin for just one more. She could live in this. 

   Just one more kiss.

   Deciding to join the rest of the student body, they got out. Evie slung her strap over one shoulder while Billy held his bag in a wad at his side. They met each other around the car before Billy slipped his arm around her waist, bringing Evie into him. Fingers delved into her back pocket.

   Every teen around them took note. It was official. Comments piled in as they passed into school.

   “Great party, Evie.”

   “Looking good, you two!”

   “Love your outfit, Fenny.”

   Whistles cast and overlapped suggestively. 

   “This is weird.” Evie leaned into Billy as they got to her locker. Students looked at them together. Offered winks or smiles. Students who never addressed her much before.

   “You’re the keg king. What’s that saying?” Billy had shrugged. “Heavy is the head… Fine is the ass.”

   “I regret you already.” Evie broke to laugh at him. “Pure poetry, Billy.” She shut her locker, paused to see Heather headed her way looking apprehensive. Another smile crossed, even fuller than the last. Heather seemed to respond and follow it.

   “So, I heard I missed a piece of history.”

   “Hardly, I puked everywhere.” Evie swept curls behind her shoulder. “Billy, can Heather and I have a sec?”

   “Depends, am I still an asshole prick?” He leered over Evie’s shoulder.

   “You’re back down to normal prick status.” Heather beamed even sweeter while Billy caught his tongue between his teeth, seeming to like that. 

   “I can work with that, princess.” He tugged Evie’s curls and went around them to head to his locker before the first period. Evie shifted on her feet so they walked along together.

   “I know...things have still been kinda weird.”

   “I just figured I’d let you and Carol work through your stuff, you know?” Heather looped her arm into Evie’s.

   “Can’t without my best friend there. Sure, Carol and I are bonding, but that doesn’t… You and I went to dances together, Heather, we stayed up eating junk food and watching terrible movies. We bought our first bras together.”

   “Our mothers made that day so mortifying, I think I’m still messed up from it.” Heather giggled with Evie snorting next to her. “And you got a real B bra while I basically bought a damn bandage.”

   “We’re repressing the memory together.” Evie tugged her down the next hallway where Steve scrambled to snatch her into an unexpected bear hug.

   “Tell me it’s true, oh my god, Evie.” He was near howling with laughter. Evie, shocked that Steve lifted her feet from the floor, stammered through the broken train of thought.

   “What?” She got spun around with a cry as Heather cackled. Students hurried around them. Steve wasn't strong like Billy, but credit was due.

   “You’re the keg king?” He shook her by the shoulders. “You smashed Billy’s record in front of him. In front of everyone?”

   “I’m never drinking again.” Evie dropped her head to his chest, hands covering her face.

   "You're my absolute hero, Eves, I hope you know that." Steve gripped Evie tighter, got close like he thought to kiss her but resisted.

   “Yeah, you’re going to have to fill us in on everything at lunch.” Heather decided, grasping Evie’s hand. “Jesus, Steve, get it together.”

   “Let me have this, Holloway. She's mine.” He squeezed Evie’s amused frame back into him. “He made my life hellish.”

   “I’ll dedicate the win to you. How’s that?” Evie slipped from Steve, laughing now. “Lunch. We’ll give Billy shit about it together.” A wink that Steve matched, thoroughly enjoying this momentous day. Evie rejoined Heather to hurry toward class. “How about a sleepover? Us, Carol, and Max. I think she needs more girls in her life. No boys invited.”

   Heather hugged her books close to grin easier.

   “I’d like that.” 

~~~~~

A/N: Letting these two finally just be intimate is everything to me. Thank you so so much for reading. Comments and rbs are well loved and appreciated!! Feel free to chat with me, pretty please! Tag list & ask open. xoxo :)

TAGGED:: @80sbxtch @nottherightseason @alagalaska @alongcamedolly @kellyk-chan @10blurredsmoke10​ @charmed-asylum​ @unmistakablyunknown​ @lukespatterson​

[supertweetycherry]

DIE HARD || [iii. Feeling Helpless]

—Pairings: BTS x OC

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

—Ratings: 18+ | MA Content | R

—Warnings: Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Alcohol, Mentions of Prostitution, Bad boy behaviour, a bit of Abuse and lot of angry screaming.

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

—Word Count: 4.9k

 Navigations -> Masterlist || MASTERPOST <<Part 1 || Part 3>>

 Chapter 2 - Feeling Helpless

Ring. Ring.

A loud ringing noise echoed in the room as Yoona slept blissfully on her bed. Her dark hair sprawled all over her pillow, and her limbs carelessly spread across the bed. Her comforter was nearly off the edges while her body was bent in an odd angle.

Ring. Ring.

There it was again. That sound. It was followed by a buzz of vibration that shook her tummy.

“Ughh... stop!” She groaned out, but to her dismay, the sound continued to disturb her peaceful slumber.

Slowly opening one of her eyes, she looked at her surroundings and blinked. The room was flooded with the strong sunlight coming from her tall windows. She had to squint her eyes a bit, to see where she was. An empty alcohol bottle was digging into her side as she moved her heavy limbs around, trying to get some stretch in. Luckily, the bottle managed to roll away only to find her hand collide with something squashy.

“Wha—” She looked at her fingers to see a thin layer of white icing. Suddenly, her head swung to her right to see a squashed cupcake, coating the right side of her bed.

She groaned, again. It was sticking flat against her bedsheet, spreading its creamy substance all over her bed.

How the fuck did this even get here?

“This is why I should stop bringing alcohol in this house.” She muttered to herself, before pulling her body up to a sitting position. Her head was buzzing with a strong migraine and her tummy felt like she was gonna hurl any second now.

Ring. Ring.

That sound was back. Still in her dazed state, she reached out to the source of the ringing. It was lying on her tummy, vibrating in full speed. Surprisingly, she didn’t mind it. The thing was giving her a massage, who is she to complain?

“Hello?” Her own voice sounded scratchy and hoarse. Exactly how much of the crying did she do last night?

“Yuri!” Yoona flinched as the loud voice of the person nearly damaged her ear drums. It boosted up her oncoming migraine.

“Suzy?”

“Where the hell are you?! It’s 10am in the morning! Ji-Soo is going crazy with all of us. Do you have any idea what’s going on? Everything is—”

Yoona blinked blankly at the phone. Her colleague slash friend was still barking into the phone continuously without stopping. Yoona had already stopped listening when Ji-Soo was mentioned. After wasting away her birthday night in alcohol, Lee Ji-Soo was the last person that Yoona would expect to pop up. But, apparently she did... only in two minutes of waking up.

“—you were supposed to be here! Now, I’m overloaded with all the extra work. The news has also been—”

The 26 year old wondered if she should cut the phone or let her friend talk. The words stopped making sense to her a long time ago.

“—been raining down on us. You need to check the news and come straight to the building now! Something serious is happening. The whole building is in—”

“Suzy!” Yoona finally exclaimed, cutting her friend off. “I’m coming. Just please, stop shouting.”

The plea itself sounded like a strained groan.

“But—Fine! Check the news before you reach here. It’s chaos up here.”

“Okay.”

Yoona didn’t wait for a goodbye. She cut the call before her head could explode from her friend’s loud voice.

Suzy Bae. The only cutest ball but yet, the most reactive girl in Yoona’s life. She has been the only good thing in Yoona’s life for the past 4 years. The girl was only two years younger than her but still quite competitive. She reminded Yoona of her youngest lover, Jungkook. They both were quite reactive to situations and annoyed the hell out of her most of the time.

‘Aigoo... my chubby little princess looks so cute and fluffy in her poofy dress.’

Yoona shook her head. There’s no way she’s going down that memory lane again. Her resistance level is very close to zero. She needs to build her walls back up to their previous glory so they won’t get smashed down by her uncle’s family again.

Still cursing her growing headache, she quickly cleaned the spoiled bed and got herself ready for work. Her bruises were still raw which just made her day even more worst than any other day she has ever had.

“Alright..” She said as she stared at her screwed up reflection in the giant mirror. Her eyes are definitely puffy and red from all that crying she did last night. There are dark circles under her eyes but nothing major. Makeup could fix that in a second. And her skin colour looked dull, but again, that’s how it is on her bad days.

“Okay, Day 1 of being a 26 year old... I can do this.”

And with that, she did. Within a span of one hour, she was done and ready to head off to work. Quickly pressing over her fine, collared white shirt and black skinny pants, she left the room. Turning on the stove for some breakfast, she let the TV play on a news channel. Suzy’s demands were still ringing in her head.

‘Watch the news.’

She wondered what was so important on the news that made Suzy turn into such as hyper-screaming mess.

“—Now, with the recent reports coming in, the infamous notorious criminal gang ‘Bangtan’ has struck again in South Korea—”

Hold up. Her hands stopped in mid-air, the egg only inches away from being cracked open. Did she hear it correctly? They said ‘Bangtan’ right? As in the ‘Bangtan’ gang that has been terrorizing the world ever since they have surfaced two years ago?

Turning the stove off, she headed to her living room where a middle aged women gave out the latest news on the screen. She turned up the volume so she could hear more clearly.

“—A women named Jung Jae-hee, the acting executive director of Lee Enterprise in South Korea, was recently found dead in her house. It has been only few hours since her discovery and already, the reports indicates that the women was tortured and brutally beaten to death before a close family member discovered her corpse. The local law enforcements ruled out the death to be a vengeful murder by the notorious gang ‘Bangtan’. Clear evidence haven’t been identified to support this claim yet but an inside source reported the similar markings on the women’s body has been seen before in other victims that comes under the wrath of Bangtan—”

Yoona narrowed her eyes at the name. Bangtan. The name itself sounded familiar to her but also at the same time, foreign. The gang is a notorious group of killers that have been dominating the world ever since they surfaced two years. They weren’t just a terror in Korea, their gang name has been a widely known name around the whole of Asia and up here in the states too. Their activities goes deeper than just normal drug smuggling, money laundering or loan sharking.

Yoona didn’t know much about them but, she knew enough to stay away from their paths.

She was just about to shake it off is when a thought struck her.

Jung Jae-Hee. Why does that name sound so familiar? Wait—Isn’t she the... Shit!

She gasped. Oh boy, no wonder Suzy was a screaming mess. Forget the food, she needs to get to the office. Now!

                                                       ********

“This doesn’t seem good.” Yoona said aloud as they stared at the chaos in the office. Every employee was scrambling into different directions with no regards to each other.

“Ya think?!” Her friend retorted from beside her. “Our old boss just got killed in her home country. It’s obvious everyone will be in a panicking state.”

Yoona glanced back at Suzy in worry. Her beautiful friend was glaring at everything in sight. With her long, silky black hair up in a loose pony tail and long strands of bangs covering her forehead, the girl looked livid and cute all at the same time. She was dressed in a proper pristine full sleeve blouse with a black pencil skirt, complimenting her petite figure. Pretty different to what Yoona was wearing.

A small sigh escaped Yoona’s lips. “I don’t know what to say...”

“Well, I know one thing. I don’t think I’m ever going back to South Korea again.” Suzy declared, her lips pouting in sadness. “Too many murders for my poor heart to take on. I’m a heart patient you people!”

Yoona chuckled at her friend’s antics.

“YURI!”

Yoona jumped at the new voice, her head already ringing with the high octanes in the voice.

‘Yuri’ was her mother’s maiden name that she adopted when her real identity as ‘Lee Yoona’ was erased. She joined the family of ‘Kim’, making her ‘Kim Yuri’, and became the orphaned, petty, poor girl who used her cunning ways in bed to get a job at Lee Enterprise. It was horrifying and disgusting that people actually believed this kind of shit these days.

“That is not good.” Suzy commented as Yoona peeked at the person who has called her out.

Daniel. Fucking Daniel.

“Shit, it’s him. Run!” And so they did.

But like they say that trouble finds you at every corner, Yoona’s worst trouble found her too.

Lee Ji-Soo.

The ultimate prodigy of the wicked witch of the west. And also, her little cousin.

The girl was the second child of Lee Sung Woo and one of the biggest tormentor in Yoona’s life. She was only few years younger than Yoona, almost at Suzy’s age, and already has a wicked ego. She was tall and naturally pretty. Her mind was sharp but also at the same she was easily influenced and angered which causes her emotions to take over her hazy mind. Yoona had tried to connect with Ji-Soo on so many different levels, but the bossy, obnoxious girl was never interested.

“Ji-Soo...” The girl was standing near Yoona’s desk. She was dressed in the most whitest clothes Yoona has ever seen on her. It spilled with fake purity. Even the Chanel earring in her left ear couldn’t match to it.

Suzy, who had already seen a storm brewing in Yoona’s cousin’s eyes, had already ducked out of sight to avoid the hissing serpent. Daniel, the person they were running from, had stopped too and had turned back around to the way he came from.

Ji-soo’s anger is known to be a legend in this building. No-one was a match for her. Anyone who dares to come across Ji-soo’s wrath, is burned alive. And right now, Yoona seems to be right in the middle of it.

“Where are the files?!” She demanded, face contorting into anger as everyone else around them stopped and stared. Why wouldn’t they? The young girl was one of their bosses.

It’s ironic how Yoona is treated as a mere servant in her own father’s company. It was named after her family name. The Lee Enterprise. It wasn’t just a business. It was an empire built by her great grandfather through blood, sweat and tears. It was passed along to her own father who pulled the company to new heights with strong alliances and strong values. But after his death, it was now run by her uncle.

Since, she’s practically dead to the world, she could never inherit her father’s company again. It’s something she regrets now.

“Answer me!”

Yoona looked at her cousin in confusion. Did something happen?

“What files?”

“Files for Aria, Yuri!”

Yoona wacked her brain at the familiar name. Aria... Aria... ARIA Resort & Casino!

“You mean... the casino?”

“Yes!” She was being impatient.

“I don’t know where the files are.” Yoona shrugged. It wasn’t under her job to take care of such important files. She was just a mere personnel support in the office. A little servant trying to find her way in this building. Even though she has a high-class business degree and masters under her name, she will always be treated as Kim Yuri, the little spawn of a dead whore.

“They were on your desk!” She screeched.

“No, they weren’t.”

“Lier!”

“Honestly Ji-Soo, I have the lowest clearance in this building. Do you really think I will have such important files in my grip? Aren’t they supposed to be in your father’s office?”

ARIA Resort & Casino is a luxury building dedicated to its given name and located in Las Vegas, Nevada. Its only an hour away from here by plane. The huge, mega complex building was originally owned by an American entertainment industry which turned out to be another counterpart of Kim Industries. But after that tragic night, and the death of all Kim’s heirs, the ownership was lost. Not only for the casino but also for many other assets that Kim industries had owned. In the end, the casino was passed around in many different hands before landing into the hands of Lee Enterprise. And for the past six years, it has been her uncle’s play baby.

“They’re not in his office.” This time, Ji-Soo’s voice was laced with worry. But then, the anger returned. “I know you have them.”

Yoona sighed. She rubbed her head in irritation.

“No. I don’t have them.”

“Don’t lie to me, Yuri!” The younger screeched, grabbing Yoona’s arm in the process. The older winced at the sudden pain that came from the bruises on her arm. “You don’t want me to tell Omma about this, do you?” She threatened with small wild smile.

Yoona glared at the younger women. That girl knew how much her mother despises Yoona and would love to beat her up at any given chance.

“Ji-Soo...” another voice interrupted them.

Both of them turned to the new voice and gulped. The voice belonged to a tall boy with dark golden brown hair locks, and a piercing look that instantly broke the skin-to-skin contact they had with each other.

Yoona had to ball up her hands into little fists to avoid feeling scared. The tall boy was her older cousin. He was dressed in a tight blue suit that covered every inch of his body. The expensive Goldmark watch on his right wrist was sparkling as the long scarf in his neck complimented his looks.

To others he might seem ethereal, but to her, he was pure evil.

“Tae-min oppa...” Ji-Soo called out to her older brother.

Yoona avoided looking at the man. She unconsciously covered her right arm, where the result of his tight grip on her from two days ago showed.

“Leave her.” He said, flicking his hair to the side. His slightly bulky body looked lean and relaxed. “Come. We have somewhere important to be.”

The man’s voice was laced with sweetness and seemed calm. That’s what scared Yoona the most. His calm demeanour that could change into something completely different in a simple second.

“But—”Ji-Soo didn’t dare to continue. Her brother’s eyes had slightly narrowed. She gulped and glanced at Yoona in fury before stalking after her older brother.

The only thing Yoona could do was sigh and thank the gods for saving her again from the endless pain.

                                                      ********

Lee Sung-Woo, the current head of Lee Enterprise, sighed as he rested his head back against the soft, leather chair. He could hear his kids entering the room but he didn’t bother acknowledging them. They were mature enough to understand that their father was stressed.

Being the head of Lee Enterprise is a hard, challenging job. Not only the company was one of the top companies in the world, it was also the foundation of a large empire built in the underworld. The main family line within the circle of the best of the best. A circle that was broken and re-formed again with new masters. But now, something new was challenging the empire. Something that is ready to topple them off. And he didn’t like that one bit.

“Dad..” he heard his eldest speak. “We can still fix this. You don’t have to take on stress.”

Sung-Woo hummed at his son’s words. The boy was always the calm one. The one who stayed patient till the end before loosing his shit and letting his demons out to rule. “I have put my best men on this. We will know who actually killed Jae-Hee.”

“I know, Tae-min.” The older man spoke. “You would never disappoint me. But I’m not worried about the girl’s death. She’s an easy replacement.”

Something twitched in the golden haired boy. Jae-Hee wasn’t just any girl to him. She was special, but he didn’t dare go against his father.

“Is it the ARIA files then?” Ji-Soo spoke up, nervousness seeping into her tone.

Sung-woo’s anger flared at the mention of his play baby. Those files were important. They were the property papers for ARIA.

“Have you found them yet?”

Ji-Soo shivered at her father’s hard tone. She pursed her lips and shook her head. She didn’t need to say anything because he can see her.

“You better hope they are just misplaced. If something happens to ARIA, I will not forgive you for this, Ji-Soo.” The older man warned his daughter.

Ji-Soo felt her body freeze. Her eyes widening at the implications of his words. He wouldn’t hurt his own daughter, right?

“It’s not her fault, dad.” His son spoke up, defending his little sister. “I think they have been stolen.”

A stab of fear hit Sung-Woo. What kind of force was he dealing with? This building is under strict security 24/7. There were guards everywhere. There were high-tech cameras in every part and corner of this building. It’s impossible for someone to steal the files. He really hoped that his daughter has just misplaced them.

“We’ll talk about them later. Right now, I have to introduce you both to some people.”

They looked at each other in confusion.

“Who?”

Sung-Woo didn’t answer. Instead, he pressed a button underneath his table and the back wall opened up into a series of giant screens covering every inch of the wall space. A loud click was heard as the room’s door locked itself electronically and the windows turned into a smokey grey colour, completely cutting off the view inside the office.

“It’s time for you both to meet The Circle.”

                                                      ********

The city of Los Angeles was buzzing with life. With it being one of the most populous city in all of California, the nightlife here was tremendously as lavish and expensive as they say. Having so many of entertainment industries under its boundaries and one of the best-class casinos, hotels and clubs, it is no-wonder that the heart of this city was completely submerged into the gambling and dealings of the underworld.

“Welcome to Dream Glow. Please enjoy your stay here.”

Kim Minseok smiled as he entered the large lavish building. Dream Glow. He chuckled. The name itself was grand and majestic as its owner.

“Wow. She really did turn this place around, didn’t she?” His little brother, Kim Jongin, commented as the younger male’s eyes travelled up to the outstanding classic decor. Minseok was also a little impressed. She really did a great job on this place. No wonder it’s brimming with customers.

Nodding his head in acceptance, he proceeded to go deeper into the building to find the egoistical, self-loving cousin of his that he hasn’t seen for a while. The visit itself was quite a surprise to him. Not to mention, the task he was given raised few red flags in his head.

“You sure he’s here?” Jongin asked beside him. The younger boy was eyeing the large room they had just entered in.

It was decorated in the most dark and vibrant colours he has ever seen. The Neon lights from above were giving it an extra glow, just like its name.

“Absolutely.” Minseok replied as they further stepped into the room.

The room was filled with rich men gambling, dancing, laughing and spilling their guts over the little female candies that sat beside them. These females were personally hired to pleasure these people in every way possible.

“Well, Well, well, look who it is...” a voice sang behind them.

“Hello, Charlie.” Minseok called out, not even needing to face the women that has appeared in the most darkest shade of red. Her hair were curled up into the most elegant beach waves ever seen, long diamond earrings complimenting her dress, and the perfect dark, smokey makeup that covered all of her flaws, seemingly making her look flawless.

The women looked at him with her strong gaze. She gasped mockingly.

“The big bad Xiumin? Here in my club? Oh heavens, my death has finally come upon me.”

Minseok rolled his eyes at the women. She was always so dramatic.

“Where is he?” He demanded. The women chuckled, her dark orbs glistening in the neon lights.

“Impatient are we?” She mocked with a little pout. “Come on, we just met after such a long time. Let’s have a little fun.”

A perfectly manicured hand slithered up-to his upper chest, caressing the hard muscles beneath it and rubbing over the hard abs that can be felt with one soft touch. He didn’t react. He could feel his younger brother’s muffled laughter from behind him.

“Charlie, where is Jin?” The tone was hard and clear this time. It made the women pout harder.

“Oh bummer. You’re such a party pooper. Jin was right. You will never change.”

And with that she unlatched her hand from his body and proceeded to the younger Kim who looked a bit shocked at the sudden changeover. “He’s in the private booths to the far corner, away from everyone else.” Minseok looked at the direction she pointed at. “You should go darling, he wants you alone. And don’t worry about your brother, I will play with him.” She said as she worked her magic on Jongin who was always a sucker for a little touch-n-touch anytime and anywhere.

Minseok groaned as a small purr came out from her lips. He shook his head and left the two to their mechanisms. Dream Glow Casino was a trusted place. His brother will be fine.

                                                     ********

As soon as Minseok reached the booth, he was greeted by a familiar looking blonde boy who was dressed into the most simplest but custom made pink shirt and fancy white pants. His neck held a thin simple silver chain while his right hand was adorned with various rings. One in particular standing out. The dark red ruby.

His handsome face was a true fairytale beauty and way too alluring to the female candies that sat either side of him. They were all over him, being shameless from every angle while the beautiful blonde boy himself stared hungrily at them. His soft, pink, plump lips already working their way against their necks.

“Jin.”

The boy stopped and looked up. He then beamed a bright smile at Minseok.

“Hyung... come, come. Sit with us.” The boy invited, gesturing to the vacant seat in front of him. “We were just talking about you.”

The elder raised an eye brow in question. But none the less, he took a seat with his cousin.

“Did you bring what I asked for, hyung?” The boy asked innocently, lightly tapping his slender fingers on the girl’s shoulders on his right. The hired candy just purred in satisfaction as she bathed in the attention she was receiving from the fairytale prince. Who thought a man like him could ever exist in this world?

Minseok pulled out a small stack of papers all stapled together. He slided them across the table to his cousin.

“It’s yours now.” Minseok smiled as he pointed to the transfer papers. “You are the new owner of ARIA Resort & Casino. Congrats, Jin. You finally got what you wanted.”

A small smirk appeared on his cousin’s face. The boy looked at the papers in total awe. His dark brown eyes scanning over every bit of the papers that now rested in his grip safely. One of his candies tried to grab his attention again but he smacked her off lightly, scolding her with his eyes.

Minseok felt a bit uncomfortable with his cousin and his female companions. He had never gotten used to this personality change in his younger cousin since that night.

Heartbreak is such a cruel thing that can happen to a person.

“You are lucky that I didn’t have to do much.” Minseok continued. “It was an easy grab in. No strings attached.”

His cousin smiled.

“Thank you, hyung. I own you one.” The boy said happily, passing the document to his guard that had appeared out of nowhere. “How’s little kai?”

“Little Kai is enjoying his time with Charlie.”

“Oh...”

A set of giggles erupted from the two ladies. His cousin was really doing wonders on them.

“Jin?”

“Hmm..”

Minseok contemplated if he should ask the question. Would the boy get angry?

“Why are you doing this? Why go after Lee Enterprise now?”

The reaction was instant. The boy who was just flirting and nose booping the candy beside him, stopped instantly. A thin line appeared on his lips while his orbs shifted. His hand wavered at the girl’s face before retracing back to the table.

Minseok didn’t feel anything when his cousin’s dark brown orbs glided to his face. He was not afraid of Kim Seokjin. They were family. Although, he was afraid of the crazy, maniac glint that had appeared in the younger’s eyes.

“It’s simple.” The boy replied, pinning his elder with his steely gaze. “I want my investment back.”

Minseok shook his head in denial. There was something that his cousin wasn’t telling him.

“No... I don’t believe you.” He countered, crossing his arms over his chest. His cousin’s head tilted in question. “Jin, I know you since you were little. All these years, even before that night, you refused to touch the company. You never tried to take over it. Not even the boys could change your mind. Infact, you helped it grow, stuffing its body with heaps of money, connections, assets and power. It has been your very own giant teddy bear for the past ten years. And now suddenly, you decided that you want your teddy back?”

A flicker of smile appeared on his younger cousin’s face. The blonde boy stretched his lips wider and wider, until he was laughing. There was a dark undertone to his windshield laugh.

“Oh hyung... you’re so observant.” The man spoke. “Is it too bad to have my teddy back in my arms again?” He asked, cuddling to the Candies beside him. But this time, his touch was a little rough and the girls felt it. But they still continued to smile.

“Jin, I’m serious.” Minseok warned. “What the hell are you planning?”

“You make me seem like a bad guy, hyung.”

“You are the bad guy, Jin.”

Minseok was truly worried for the golden company. The boy infront of him wasn’t the same boy anymore. He was being selfish. Lee Enterprise was the last thing that remained of Yoona. He can’t let the boy destroy it just like that. Atleast, not without a valid reason.

The grip on the two girls’s shoulders was increasing in strength. Their smiles were faltering with every passing second. Soon, they were squirming in his grip.

“Jin, you are hurting them.” Minseok warned, noticing the two girls’s discomfort.

The blonde boy instantly loosened his grip on them. He looked shockingly at his two candies and then at his elder cousin.

“I’m sorry, Hyung.” He apologised. “I didn’t realise what I was doing.” He then looked at his two candies with a mocking pout gracing his lips. “I’m sorry, girls. Please don’t hate me. I didn’t mean too. I’m not the bad guy. I just got lost there for a second.”

The female companions were spooked by his suddenly weird behaviour. But none-the-less they nodded and continued to snuggle up to him.

However, the guard behind them looked depressed. He shook his head in defeat before walking off to make a quick call to the owner of ‘Dream Glow’ for a very heart-filled apology and the scene that’s about to be happened.

“Jin...” Minseok called out. He was not going to give up.

“Hyung...” The boy looked up.

“Please Jin, whatever you are planning, just drop it. Yoona will not be happy.”

A sudden chill dropped around them. At the mention of the dead girl, his cousin’s features changed. The dark brown eyes turned moist and a broken, pained look appeared in them. Minseok regretted saying the name.

“I think you should leave, hyung.” The boy spoke, biting his bottom lip. “And again, I apologise for the rude behaviour.”

“But jin—” the elder stopped. He didn’t dare to go against the evil glint that has appeared in his cousin’s eyes.

“Go enjoy with Kai.”

And he did. Not the enjoying part, but he did leave the booth, ignoring the loud cries of pain from the girls that followed after.

God bless their souls.

 Tag List: @demonic-meatball​ , @youtube-obsessed-duh​ , @trinityautumn​

[modestlyabsurd]

Alight Pt. 3 (Loki x Reader)

"That," he wiped his bleeding cheek, "was a big mistake."

He was gonna retaliate right then and there, the life leaving his eyes and rage consuming him. You prepared. He'd already gotten in a few licks leaving you pretty weakened. Arms were throbbing from blocking blows and your head burned in white hot pain. You're no match for Dickhead. But at this point if you died fighting him, so be it. It'd be better than living the rest of your life here.

As he lunged, he suddenly froze in place, and then your blood ran cold. His face disappeared - then reappeared in an instant.

Your heart beat so fast that your entire body was rendered paralyzed. Hallucinating - definitely hallucinating.

But it happens again; his face glitches from its brooding, bloodied features to a blank sheet of skin and back again.

He chuckles. His voice darkens robotically as his face goes in and out, like a TV with bad reception. "Looks like you damaged my screen."

The ground wobbles beneath your feet, but there's nothing around to steady yourself except for your own head - and it could explode at any second.

"What? Now you're scared?" He takes a small step forward, you take the same step back. "You should've been scared this entire time. You're not back home on Earth."

... What? How?

"Don't act surprised. But it's not an act, is it? You really thought you were smart. Humans are so laughable sometimes. Steadfast? Sure. But you're all so easily broken. That, and your inherent ignorance was the dead giveaway to your origins."

His dark, artificial eyes repeatedly go in and out and return to yours each time. He clears his throat and places his arms at ease. "Allow me to explain a bit about myself, since you were gracious enough to oblige me in a similar nature," he smiles, gesturing to his injured human cheek.

Your skin itches all over. Your mind is sending distress signals everywhere it can. Which, clearly, isn't far.

"I am a Chronomonitor. We are created and assigned whenever and wherever a reality is altered. I would normally explain the development process of how we're created, but I'd bet you don't know the first thing about quantum technology. Just like I'd bet you don't know the first thing about gamma radiation," he smirks.

Fuck ... what all do they know?

"But that's besides the point. I was created when the reality of Earth in the year 2012 was tampered with by undercover parties. I will cease to exist when my job is complete, which is to eliminate the threat and restore reality as it is. Until then, you're stuck with me indefinitely."

Wonderful, you bitterly think to yourself.

He dares to take another step closer, and despite yourself, you dare not to take one back.

"See how much easier things can be, if you're a good little human?"

A voice interrups through his radio, shouting urgently in their verbal codes. He tilts his head to listen and in an irritated rush he responds with an affirmation.

Now completely faceless, without concealment, he turns to leave. But not without a final word. "I feel like we've gotten to know each other a little better. No more secrets now. Right, Doe six one eight? Or, rather, little L/N."

He had the nerve to whisper your last name.

When the cell door shuts behind Mr. Chronomonitor, you start crumbling. Your legs nearly give way as you stumble back, back, until you hit the concrete wall and slide down, your throat constricting. They tracked you. They tracked the breadcrumbs, and you just gave them a freshly baked loaf with your name written on it.

You couldn't breathe. You couldn't think straight. All you could do was cry.

All you wanted was Loki.

Loki would know what to do.

Loki would know what to say.

Loki would protect you. He wouldn't let these forces get anywhere near you. He didn't! That's why your steadfast, laughable, ignorant fucking self is here in this space pit. Because he died protecting you from the true forces of the universe, and their crimes.

You wished that wasn't your last memory of him. That's why you've forced yourself not to think of him during this imprisonment. But things always come full circle. You should've known better. Loki always compared your feelings to a body of water, and said that the levee reserving the riverflow was made of fire. The flames will always succumb to the water at some point. Goddammit, you miss him. In the most selfish way possible.

He was one the few people in your life who accepted you unconditionally; he loved even the worst parts of you. Looking back, you took that for granted. A little voice keeps nagging you about it as time goes on, and in all honesty, you're starting to believe you deserve to stay here indefinitely.

You miss him. The hot, fiery tears leaving streaks down your swollen cheeks are the testament to it. You miss the real Loki. A far cry from who's out here in the timelines running amok.

It's the broken, vengeful, brainwashed monster that Thanos created in 2012 that's left. You think back to that distant, original little spark of hope; that maybe the real Loki is still alive and lost in there somewhere. Maybe you could find him, bring him to the light.

But that was then. Now, the chances of ever finding Loki are slim to none, and your chances of staying prisoner here are rising.

~

Oh for Heaven's sake. It was just getting good!

The melee had to end right when the mysterious neighbor had done what he couldn't do (what he truly wished to do if he hadn't a main objective) and that was provoke that oaf of a guard to the breaking point. But he remembers there's been no provoking whatsoever. Only silence.

And then a beating ensued, and even Loki had to turn away. He's not a sadist. He's more of a curious panther that's been reduced to a pathetic house cat.

Indeed while the voice of the Other continues to berate him for his childish approaches, and in a similar nature, Loki has chosen to ignore it. Temporarily, of course. It's not his fault that the daft creature cannot function under anything but its own direct orders. Loki enjoys chaos. And in this place, he doesn't even have to be the perpetrator.

Although useful in that he now knows a great deal more about these bots and their facility, this sort of chaos isn't exactly what he had in mind. Unlike the Other, as well as the Titan, hurting people fruitlessly doesn't interest Loki.

"Knock, knock," a voice sarcastically sounds outside the cell door.

Loki's ears perk and the hair on his neck dares to stand on end, but he doesn't allow it. He leans against the gray concrete comfortably, awaiting his visitor.

"Time for my interrogation already?" he chirps. The Chronomonitor - information accredited to his neighbor - opens the heavy door, bringing in shadowy dim light from the hallway. It appears as the same burly man with educated eyes and sturdy limbs, and a faint scar on its cheek. Loki cannot the smirk on his face as he eyes the robot, relishing in the secret knowledge he has. He distantly wonders how he'll use it to his advantage later.

"Afraid not," it shakes its head. "That's why I'm here. Mobius has chosen to delegate more time to another case over the next few days, so you're off without questioning today."

"What a shame. I was looking particularly forward to my session this afternoon," Loki feigns disappointment. He then inquires, "What could possibly interrupt such a cured routine?"

The robot ponders Loki, but in the moment, does not deem him disingenuous.

A mistake.

As if it's divulging a secret, the robot lowers its tone. "It's the person right next to you, as a matter of fact. She's been an absolute pain ever since she was apprehended a month ago. Mobius is even sicker of it than I am," it nearly growls, before recollecting. "But now he's finally ready to do something about it."

The way the bot's teeth shined in sticky enjoyment struck a nerve in Loki.

He tilts his head, playing along. "What do you think that something will be?"

"That's to be determined. Oh, and you didn't hear any of this," the bot threatens.

"Of course," Loki assures. Even though he heard every word of it.

The bot nods. It then scans the cell, as Loki crosses his arms and slides his tongue over the grooves of his cheek. The robot's eyes land on the uneaten breakfast tray next to the bed.

"Better eat. The cooks never cook that good."

"Merely saving it for later," he responds, voice clipped.

Awkwardly, the bot turns to leave. "Won't be another meal for a good few hours."

"Four hours. To be exact."

The bot looks back at Loki with bewilderment. Loki notes how easily angered they can become, if outwitted. Without another word it waves an arm dismissively and locks the door tightly behind.

It's just at the surface. But how did his neighbor do it so effortlessly?

A girl, he remembered. The robot referred to a girl.

He lay his head against the hard pillow of the wall, still propped against it. Outside his ever-racing mind, the world around him became quiet. Impossibly quiet; quiet enough to hear. Maybe enough to hear a pin drop, or a mouse scatter across the floor.

Definitely enough, he learned, to hear soft, barely audible cries through the thick walls of his cell. His eyes widened.

Female cries, he notes.

Loki's curiosity is getting the best of him. But he decides he'll deal with whatever repercussions there are.

Just for kicks, he creates a duplicate illusion of himself, leaving it on the bed. Then, cloaked in invisibility, he enters the cell next door.

The cells are similar - dark, unkind concrete. A bed. A sink. A toilet. A mirror, and something his own cell lacks: a door with a small window with a view, of another door. Loki's not surprised.

The prisoner is what surprises him.

A woman, indeed. Scrubbing at her face over the white sink, washing it in red. She pushed her hair back as it kept falling in her face, sticking to her blood. Wearing the TVA prison suit identical to his, her exposed arms were marked by violence. She turns off the sink and looks at herself in the mirror. If Loki were visible, they would've locked eyes right then and there.

She looked innocent, even babyish in the face. Something felt familiar about her. Strongly, strangely familiar, but he couldn't place how. It bothered him. The dark bruises littering her skin bothered him more; they pinched and scratched at his nerve endings.

He can't look away. In fact, he contemplates making his presence known to her, but hesitates as she moves to the cot.

Loki breathes.

Upon having a face to match with the body, he wonders. He's always been a good judge of character; what could that face have possibly done to be treated differently than he? He hadn't been assaulted by any guards or agents, even when he'd provoked them. Make no mistake, he's treated with less than respect, but not to the point of beatings at least. So what is it about this normal, non-threatening woman?

Still unable to look away from her, she lays on the cot, facing the wall - away from Loki. From this perspective she seems almost like a child. He sees her deep breathing and hears her silent whimpers; he watches her until she eventually falls asleep.

Resigning himself back to his own cell, he too lays on his cot. It's so boring here. Even with new guests, they fall asleep just as the story begins to barely unfold. A pity.

Who is that woman?

There's two sides to the coin that is Loki's thought process. It would be a lie to say he wasn't glad that the quiet one finally cried herself to sleep. But when has it being a lie ever stopped him from saying something?

~

tag list: @sydneyss-worlddd @afinedilemma @fire-in-her-veinz @belladonnabarnes @drakesfiance @internetgremlin @dragon-chica @triggeredpossum @tarynkauai @sadwaywardkid

[lilacmoon83]

Clarity

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 14: Sparks Fly, Pt 1

David winced, as Snow helped him gently put his shirt on and then began buttoning it. He smiled at her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She looked up at him and their lips met in a passionate kiss. Snow mewled into his kiss, as she slipped her arms around his neck. He cradled her head and moved his lips over hers, deepening their kiss and she felt her knees almost give out. He usually had that effect on her, but always held her up and kept her from falling. Their bliss was interrupted by someone clearing their throat and she was almost lightheaded, in a good way, as their lips parted.

"I have your discharge papers," Whale said sourly.

"Thanks," David said, not even hiding his smugness, as Snow cuddled against him.

"You'll want to keep the bandage on the wound for a few days. You can bathe, but be careful not to get it too wet for a while. The stitches are dissolvable, so you won't need to come back unless you notice any swelling or the pain doesn't subside within a week or so," he advised, as he scribbled on David's chart.

"Did you change his emergency contact information?" Snow asked, as he looked up.

"Yes...the nurse took care of that," he replied, as he watched him kiss her hair.

"Anything else?" David asked.

"No...you're free to go, but I hope you know that you need to refrain from any vigorous activity for a while until that wound heals a bit," Whale replied. David smirked.

"Yeah...you'd like that, wouldn't you?" he said, as they walked out of the room, arms around each other, and headed for the elevator.

"He doesn't look happy about you possibly disobeying his orders," she mentioned, as they got into the elevator.

"Yeah...that's not why he's pissed," David said.

"Why do you say that?" she asked, as the elevator door closed.

"He's pissed because you're with me and not him," he replied. But she shook her head, as she hooked her hand on his elbow.

"I doubt that...Whale has a reputation. I was just another notch on his bedpost," she said sourly.

"I'm sure that's what he tells people, which infuriates me, but I don't think so," he replied. She cocked her head to the side.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I know what it's like to be with you. It's not something you forget and it's not something you want to lose...ever," he replied simply, which made her blush.

"Charming…" she murmured, as she leaned her head against his arm. He could still give her butterflies in her stomach. He smiled and kissed her tenderly, as the elevator door opened into the first floor lobby of the hospital. People gawked at them, as they walked toward the exit, arms around each other, but neither noticed.

"Let's go home…" he whispered to her. She smiled.

"Let's...but you know we really can't do anything yet," she whispered back. He smirked.

"I've had worse than this and we managed," he reminded her. She grinned.

"We did...didn't we?" she realized, as they hurried to her car.

~*~

Neal rolled over in bed and found Tamara's side empty. She wasn't far though, as she came back into the room with coffee and donuts.

"Morning…I went to that little bakery down the street. The bagels didn't look at all like New York bagels though, so I opted for the donuts," she replied. He smirked.

"Yeah...you're not going to find good bagels here," he said, as he took a sip of the coffee and checked his phone. He smiled, as he saw texts from Henry.

"So...when do I get to meet your son?" she asked.

"Uh...well, he's in school right now, but maybe we can meet him after. His adoptive mom is doing her best to keep him away from us, but Dad says he's going to file an emergency injunction this morning," Neal replied.

"For what exactly?" she asked.

"Well...the custody battle might take months and will get ugly. He thinks it's unfair that Emma and I don't even have visitation in the interim, so he's going to argue before the judge today," he replied.

"That's great...you better get cleaned up and I hope you'll let me go with you," she said.

"Sure…" he replied, as he saw her reading the paper.

"If you're looking for Pulitzer type journalism in that paper...you're going to be disappointed," he warned with a snort.

"Yeah, most of it is pretty bland, but there is one story here that is fascinating. By August W. Booth," she said. He paused on his way to the bathroom at that and took the paper from her.

"What? Do you know him?" she asked, as he skimmed the story.

"Uh no...just sounds like a new guy," he lied.

"Do you really think the Mayor and this other woman lied and forged a marriage certificate for a comatose patient to keep him away from this other woman...Mary Margaret? It sounds like daytime soap opera stuff," she scoffed.

"It does...but Mary Margaret was Henry's teacher, until Regina got her fired. Henry loves her and she and David are really good people. Regina on the other hand...the woman we're going to be fighting in court, is as vengeful as they come," Neal replied.

"I wonder what Mary Margaret did to piss Regina off so much," Tamara asked curiously.

"I don't know...but I guarantee it was nothing that warrants anything she's done," he said, as he went into the bathroom to clean up. Tamara smirked and kept reading. She dialed a number.

"There's an event coming up...it's called Miner's Day. It looks like a big deal and most of the town will be gathered in one place," she reported, before hanging up and she went back to waiting on Neal.

~*~

Regina stormed into the courthouse and into Albert Spencer's office. She slapped the court papers down on his desk and looked at him.

"Care to tell me how the hell you're allowing this to happen?" she hissed, as he looked at the order.

"Contrary to popular belief and much to my own dismay, I don't control everything that goes on in the judicial system in this town," he said.

"Mr. Gold filed the correct paperwork and now a Judge will hear the case," he added.

"Then you had better be good at what you do and convince the Judge to rule in my favor," she hissed.

"I will do my best, but that's only part of your problem," Spencer replied.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"I was about to send the courier over with the order, but since you're here, I'll serve you myself," he replied, as he handed another order to her.

"What is this?" she asked, as she looked through it.

"Mr. Gold has filed an emergency injunction on behalf of your son's biological parents," he explained. Her eyes widened.

"On custody?" she asked. He nodded.

"He's arguing that they should be granted some sort of visitation in the interim before the custody proceedings begin," he replied.

"This is unacceptable! He is my son!" she shouted.

"He is theirs too, unfortunately and the father didn't know about him. I don't think I have to tell you that biological parents carry a lot of weight in the courts," he said.

"Then you had better fix this! Talk to the Judge and make sure he knows what is in it for him if he does the right thing and rules in my favor," she replied.

"Don't you think I tried that already?" he asked irritably.

"What did he say?" she asked.

"He won't even take my call. His assistant said that he had taken Mr. Gold's suggestion and sequestered himself until the hearing this afternoon. Looks like he is more afraid of Gold than of us," he replied. She clenched her teeth.

"For now…" she fumed. If she ended up having to share custody of Henry with Emma and Neal...then she would have to take drastic measures.

~*~

The curtain was pulled around the bed and the blinds were closed to squelch the daylight, as they made good use of their alone time. Despite his tender wound, they had indeed managed to satisfy their need for intimacy. Clothes were scattered around the bedroom and they were bare, entwined together. She was straddled across him, as he was gently propped up on the pillows, joined as one, moving gently together. Lips met again and again, with moans and mewls escaping now and then, as a vocal declaration of their pleasure. She collapsed gently beside him and rested her head against his chest, as they came down and caught their breath.

"Told you we'd manage," he murmured to her, before pressing a kiss to her hair. She smiled up at him.

"You did...and I think that was a little more than managing," she said, in a dreamy tone, as they cuddled.

"Then I was on my game," he said, with a chuckle.

"You're never not on your game, my love...but now I'm starving," she replied.

"Me too...I'm on the pancakes," he said, as he got up and slipped into a pair of sleep pants.

"You're supposed to be resting," she said, as she sat up and pulled the sheet over her unclothed body.

"I can handle making us some pancakes," he said, as he pecked her on the lips. She smiled and watched him go into the kitchen, before she fished his shirt from the floor and her underwear. She went to the door and picked up the rolled newspaper that was there and brought it inside, before setting it on the table. She started some coffee and then sat down at the table, while he mixed the batter.

"Oh my God…" she said, as he looked up at her.

"What is it?" he asked.

"This story...someone wrote a story about us," she replied. He rolled his eyes.

"Great...more lies about our torrid "affair"," he complained.

"No, it's not that...someone wrote a story about how Regina and Kathryn came up with a phony marriage certificate to keep us apart, because of Regina's hatred of me," she replied.

"That sounds pretty close to the truth...so what's it doing in that newspaper?" he asked, as he read the byline.

"August W. Booth?" he asked. She shook her head.

"I have no idea who that is...or who he was back in our land. But I think we need to meet him," she replied. He nodded.

"Agreed. Just another adventure for us," he said, as he kissed her cheek. She smiled and went to pour the coffee, while he made the pancakes.

~*~

Kathryn didn't at all like the stares she was receiving that morning, as she walked into the diner. She tried to ignore the whispers and looks, as she approached the counter. Was Regina right? Had Mary Margaret helped facilitate this story to get the attention and hatred off her? It had certainly seemed to work by the cold look Granny was giving her.

"Can...can I get a cappuccino to go?" she asked.

"Coming right up," Granny replied. So she was still serving her, which hopefully meant she wasn't sure whether to believe the story or not.

"Thanks," Kathryn said, as she placed the cup in front of her.

"Don't thank me...I'm still serving you, because I know how intimidating the Mayor is, but you didn't have to go along with it," Granny replied.

"I...I didn't. That article is a lie. David was my husband," Kathryn argued.

"That reporter says the marriage license was forged. He says he had it authenticated and it came back as a forgery," Granny said, citing the article.

"Well...he's lying! Mary Margaret is a tramp and she stole my husband," Kathryn replied, as she grabbed her cup and stormed out of the diner. Regina was right...and she was going to confront the little homewrecker herself...

[nightwingshero]

Unwanted

Okay guys, so I’ve been working on two different stories for FC5: one that follows the game and the other is a burlesque/mafia au that I couldn’t get out of my head. This is the first piece of work I’ve posted for Wren and John, and its for the burlesque au. I’m going to be posting my work on AO3 soon, but I got really excited about this and wanted to share it! Trigger warning for some alcohol use and dark thoughts, so read at your own risk!

Her green, venomous eyes were taunting. She sneered at everything that came across her withering gaze, her hips swaying with a little extra effort to gain the attention from those around her. It was in vain, of course, with Rowan’s performance still in full swing. But that didn’t stop this woman from holding her head high as she looked down her nose to our dancers. We’ve had people in here before from the first class. Most of the time, they were pleasant, friends of Whitney or John. Some just stopping through to check out the club they’ve heard so much about, but that southern charm had never failed. Until now.

She flipped her platinum blonde hair, the curls catching the little light that created the ambiance. Her short emerald dress hugged her curves, showcasing her breasts perfectly. I was almost impressed. I shifted a bit, fidgeting with the material of the outfit I wore for my last performance. I was talking to John before he had ducked outside to take a call from a client. I stood there, waiting for his return, but as her gaze narrowed on me, I knew I was in for it.

“Where’s John?” she asked in a clipped voice. I would have thought her beautiful, if her personality had matched. I frowned at her.

“I’m sorry, he’s not available. May I ask who’s asking?” I asked in curiosity. John had people come in here and there, asking for his time. This wasn’t new. He would brush them off, telling us to make sure to ask who they were and why they wanted to see him. He was so allusive here, insistent that his business hours were always clearly communicated. If those expectations weren’t met, then too bad. He took his schedule seriously.

She sneered at me, her glossy lips shimmering with her teeth. “I’m his fiancée. Now, go tell him that I’m here.” My brows shot up in surprise as my heart stopped. Fiancée? He had never mentioned…

“I didn’t realize he was engaged.” I replied quietly, hoping to keep the disappointment hidden. I felt deflated, as if someone had poked a hole in me. I wanted to stay neutral, not give away how my heart sank to the pit of my stomach at the thought of it. But she smirked, her green eyes twinkling.

“Well, he is.” She let out a little laugh. “Its cute, you know? This little crush you have.”

“I don’t—”

“Oh please.” She snapped. “It’s so obvious. He probably already knows. You wear it on your sleeve. It’s disgusting and pathetic.” She clicked her tongue as she gave her a look of pity. “Let me guess, you’re some country girl from the middle of nowhere who is trying to make it in the big city. Am I right?” I don’t answer. I’m raging, the blatant rudeness wiggling under my skin. But I can’t seem to defend myself. My tongue feels heavy and the tears are coming. It only fuels her, knowing she is so close to making me collapse into myself like a house of cards.

“Oh honey, did you really think he would go for that? Some little girl playing dress up when she belongs back on the farm? You’re way out of your league.” She steps closer, placing a hand on my shoulder as she squeezes with a false sense of reassurance. As if we were in this together, the two of us against the world. “Honestly, I’m doing you a favor. Saving you from the humiliation of rejection. John has standards, a particular taste darling. And this? This isn’t you. It’s not fitting in the slightest. Whore isn’t exactly on John’s radar. He prefers women of class, love. You’re beneath him. It’s time for you to understand that you’ll never be good enough for him.” She smiles again, before rubbing her hand on my cheek. Then with a slight smack against my skin, she’s gone, and my eyes are catching Whitney’s shocked ones.

The room spins as I lean against a chair for support as Whitney tries to call for me. Fight or flight is strong in my veins, roaring in my ears as my stomach twists and twists, creating something I don’t recognize within me. Reforming, as I stumble to the back, desperate for something I can cling to, something real I can put inside myself to make me real. I’m a ghost of something as I gather my things to leave. The breath in me is gone, forcing me to choke on the stale cigarette smoke Adelaide is supplying. I’m almost in a trance, and yet I feel some sort of clarity. The fantasy broken like a magic mirror, and suddenly I am seeing my true self in the broken pieces lying before me. I barely register Faith’s words, but I’m sure she’s asking if I’m alright. I smile, say yes, pretend that I’m still the same person on that stage. She’s not convinced and so I tell her I’m going home. My sleeve must be dirty from everything that shows there.

I leave quickly, feeling like a fool. Perhaps I should laugh, like most clowns do, pulling all those emotions out of my sleeve like a colorful handkerchief chain. That would require a voice, something I was lacking. A mime would be more fitting. My body the tool, invisible and locked inside a box I created for myself as I tried to put on a display. A vision no one had wanted, the piece of art that sat in the back unwanted. I forced a sob down as I entered my car, fumbling for the keys.

I wish I could say that I remembered getting to my apartment. Out of character for small town Wren, sweet little Wren. The box was closing in, my chest threatening to implode. I let go, the tears and sobs forcing my body curl into itself on my bed. The little moments were a mirage, something my naïve brain believed to be something more. How many times had he been there to protect me? His bullet wound had only just healed. How many times had he saved me? The disaster of a date with Detective Pratt merely weeks ago. I could still taste the fear on my tongue as Pratt plied me with glass after glass of wine. The gentleness in which John had handled me, almost caring. Like I was the most fragile thing in his world.

I scream them into my pillow, the broken pieces of my heart. Pieces of my soul shattering like the illusion of him, the illusion of what I thought we could have become. I breathe in deeply and that’s when I feel the shift, the steel resolve of my psyche overcoming me. It’s the numbness I notice first, turning my sobs into nothing. I rise, making my way to the kitchen like a vengeful spirit that is the one being haunted. The vase is crystal, a gift from Adelaide for the new place, but it’s the flowers I want. He had them sent to me, celebrating our big show only a few nights prior. I laughed to myself, remembering the rush I had felt. For the first time, I had felt high. Elated.

I swayed, humming to myself a bit as I made my way to the bathroom. Turning the chrome handle, I began to run the hot water, desperate to feel the burn against my skin to help me rid myself of her touch. To purge the gaze that had taken me in with such disdain, as if I was a stain upon this earth. Her tainting touch scorched my skin, leaving an invisible mark that only I could see. That I could feel. And with that, I ripped the soft petals from the stems, allowing them to sprinkle down into the water. They dance across the surface, a secret waltz that only they knew.

One by one, I light candle after candle, a dark ritual that was only just beginning. My hair is twisting up and up, piling elegantly on top of my head, and then I’m dipping into the water. The warm, baptizing water welcoming me, loving me as it takes me as I am. Scars and all, it holds me securely in it’s embrace. I could almost hear the shushing of its calming voice, almost feel the comforting fingers of my mother as she played with my hair. The ghost of her was almost enough, pushing me back to a time where I didn’t have to feel the weight of loss or rejection.

And suddenly, her ghost is gone. Blue eyes have taken over haunting me, her fingers replaced by his tattooed ones. He plays me like a harp, pulling my tight strings just so he could hear me sing, watch as I move with a simple flick. The hypnosis of his ocean eyes is deep and tempting, calling for my drowning. They wish to claim my last breath, the very last bit of my being. And I’m rising from the water, panic clawing my throat because I can feel the pull, feel his gaze as I felt hers. I fight off the tears that demand to be seen, that want the show they so rightfully deserve. It was only fair, my heart screams, but I laugh at it. Life is never fair.

I stand naked in the mirror, but I see her standing next to me. The blue bloods that own this city, the embodiment of the perfect Georgia peach. A woman I could see John taking by the waist with pride. Her red lips and dark lashes, the long neck and golden blonde hair on display for all to see. My body not nearly as lean or as striking. I imagined her in her castle as a child, the beautiful princess of Atlanta, ruling her kingdom with her head held high. My childhood filled with softball tournaments and the old beaten up acoustic guitar that slept in the corner, while she attended operas and orchestra concerts. A culture I had never dreamed of, a social circle that could never be touched by the likes of me.  

I dry my skin, the feeling of being paper thin is overwhelming. I laugh to myself, because I know what comes next. I know what I’m about to do. It’s silly, childish, and yet I glide to my dresser. Slowly, I pull out my favorite number, something I had always imagined wearing for him. Not on stage, no. This was something for him and him alone. I put on the bra, the black lace striking against my skin and suddenly I’m untouchable. Slipping on the lacey underwear to match, I turn to my closet, desperate for the last pieces. The silk ebony robe sending shivers down my spine as it caresses me, and it’s as if I’m being held in my lover’s arms. The heels are last, simple and elegant. Tall and black, two thin straps leaving my feet bare, the same shoes I had worn to my father’s funeral. I felt like death herself, all powerful and ready to take whatever she wanted. Provocative and demanding, a queen among men.

My hair is released, falling like a waterfall down my back. It felt good to pretend, to believe in this moment that I was like her, that I wasn’t me. That I was a woman that was cherished and wanted, an envy-worthy being. I reason with myself; I know I’ve gone mad. I had fallen off the deep end and taken flight, and it had never felt better. The feeling addicting, the need for more growing and growing. The heels clicked against the wood floor, fueling me. The righteousness they sang, the vengeance they demanded, it became a soothing lullaby.

The kitchen is dark, only the light above the stove and sink burned with life. I reached for the most expensive red wine I had, pouring a glass with a smile of satisfaction. The blood red liquid was all consuming, drawing me closer. The dark, bitter taste becoming my sanctuary, but I wasn’t done. No, far from it. And as I sat down at my small vanity back in the bathroom, I choke yet again on a sob, and force out a laugh instead. I had a plan, a traitorous plan against the tears that begged for the freedom they longed for. I knew how to trick the emotions into becoming wisps of smoke on the inside of my porcelain glass exterior. I had never been an artist, but I paint. The burgundy against my lips, the black liquid liner creating sharp edges that would dare touch without permission. The brush then creates a frame for the windows of my soul, residing in the blue green irises staring back at me. They’re heavy, sad even, but the mascara does its job and I finish with a flourish.

I’m suddenly beautiful, a perfect doll someone would love to have, to play with, and have on their arm. I wonder briefly which arm he would use to put around my own waist, and suddenly my vision swims. I scoff as I hold my head high and take a sip in victory, toasting myself for outsmarting the betrayal of my heart that suddenly matched the blue of his eyes. I was so strong, I told myself. I was better. But as I held the glass gently, it became comforting to me, whispering sweet nothings and promising me a numbness that kept me safe and sound. I knew I was lying to myself. I was far from better.

A sound pulls me from the calling, and I set the glass down as I rose. The noise led me to my bedroom window, finding a cat messing with some metal trashcans as it scavenged for its next meal. Then I hear the soft clicking of my front door, and I scoff while squeezing my eyes shut momentarily. I should have known. Rowan was the only other one with a key, and I could almost bet that Faith had sent her my way. The wine’s singing int the next room, creating an atrocity of noise in my head. Perhaps just one glass, just to get the noise to go away. To make everything quiet.

Rowan would wait patiently in the living room; she respected my privacy. She wouldn’t just wander around. No, she would sit on the couch or at the kitchen table, preparing for whatever conversation she had planned on having. “Rowan, I’ll be out in a moment.” I call out in a sigh, letting her know I was aware of her and wasn’t being ignored. “I hope your show ended well. Sorry I wasn’t there to see the grand finale.” Every word was an effort, taking energy away from me. I wanted nothing more than to be alone.

I give only a few more seconds as I come to my decision and began making my way back to my bathroom. I could down the glass quickly. Rowan gives no response, but I don’t mind. It doesn’t matter. But as I step into the bathroom, I freeze. The blood in my veins suddenly turn to ice and my breath hitches. The glass was missing, as if it were never there in the first place. Sad and confused, I approach the vanity. The red wine, that had matched my lips, was gone. Staring at the reflection in the mirror, I’m reminded that I could never be her, or any of them. The beautiful women that could seduce him with just a soft smirk, a glance in his direction as her finger curled, beckoning him closer. I cringe as I turn away. I didn’t need another reminder that I wasn’t good enough.

“Rowan, give it back. I’m fine. Let me finish my fucking wine.” I stomp down the fall, my heels screaming their wrath. That’s how I enter my kitchen, ready for war, but I stop as something catches my attention. I make my way to the sink in a daze as I reach for my empty glass, the stain from my former lipstick taunting me. The wine bottle is set down and I reach for it, not caring of the guest I had yet to acknowledge. The lightness of the glass bottle tells me exactly what I had been thinking, it had not been spared. Everything was empty, just like me.

I slam the bottle down as I clench my teeth, seething. I wanted to scream, to see the world burn with the rage I was feeling. “Rowan!” I snap and I begin to shake, but whether it was from anger or the lack of control, I wasn’t sure. “Are you fucking kidding me? I barely had any—”

I’m no longer yelling but choking on the gasp that rushes out as fingers caress my neck, a hand gripping my hip tightly. They tease at the base of my neck before tracing my collarbone. The hand on my hip is sliding and sliding until its entangled with the knot of my robe. I know this touch, this gentle melody against my skin. The same gentle caress that ran over my skin as he marked me, embedding his creation into my skin with his dark ink. A permanent work of art that would be displayed on me for the rest of my life, and then suddenly he grasps my neck, squeezing only slightly. I knew what this was. I knew that this was a punishment, his own way of showing his disappointment for my lapse. He wouldn’t hurt me, I trusted him, and I knew that concern was driving his anger. My head rests against his shoulder as his lips find my ear.

“Promise?” he asked, dead serious. His breath makes me shiver and I breath out slowly through my nose. “Promise me that that’s all you had, Wren. Do not lie to me.”

“I promise, John.” I whispered in shame. He knew, god he knew. I was usually good, drinking only in moderation and at social events. I was so careful. But he knew, in this moment, that I had no intention of stopping. I was so swept up in the hurt, in the insecurity and anxiety, that I hadn’t realized how quickly I was falling down the rabbit hole. I make a sound at the back of my throat, and I feel my armor began to fall, disintegrating into nothing as I’m fighting the tears that are coming back.

He doesn’t give me the opportunity to cry. His lips find the junction of my neck and I sigh. Rowan wouldn’t have taken that step, pouring everything I had down the sink. That just wasn’t how she was. She would have lectured, sure. Express disappointment? Absolutely. John wasn’t like that. John was bold, unafraid of anything that ever came his way. I let out a shaky breath as he pulled away, his hand leaving my neck as his finger gently turned my chin. His lips found mine and I couldn’t think.

How long had we skirted around this? How many times had we came this close, but never crossed the line? The stolen glances, the shameless flirting. The way he held me the night I was almost shot in the alley, and yet neither of us were willing to take it further. I could almost laugh, because I had thought for so long it was just me. I was crushing on someone way out of my league. I had believed the words that woman had said. And suddenly, I remembered exactly why I was in this situation. I’m his fiancée.

He pulled away as the tears fell, and I looked away from him. He wasn’t having it. Gripping the front of my robe, he jerks me around. It takes only a few seconds for him to see, and without missing a beat, his hands are on my thighs. He sets me up on the counter as a sob successfully, finally, escapes my lips. His hands cradle my face as his thumbs wipe the tears away. His eyes are soft and they’re pulling me in, a tug on my seams as I become undone. I tore my gaze away, trying to hide everything I was feeling.

“Look at me.” He whispers, his face close enough that I can feel his breath. I looked back, fear and hurt all over my face. “Listen to me and listen very closely. You are enough. Do you hear me? Wren, you are enough.”

“Enough for you?” I croaked as I cried. My hands twisted as the clung to his white button up shirt. I was creating wrinkles, but neither of us cared. His brow furrowed and his jaw ticked.

“Enough for me? God Wren, who gives a shit about me?” He gently pokes my chest, against my beating heart. “It doesn’t fucking matter what I think or what anyone else thinks for that matter. Anyone.” He sneered as a dark look swirled in his cerulean orbs. “All that matters, is that you’re enough for you. You matter, Wren. You come first.”

“But that woman said—”

“That woman is nothing. Her opinion is nothing. She will never touch you, or get close to you, do you understand? She’s a liar and a manipulator. A child throwing a tantrum for not getting what she wants.”

I shook my head, my insecurities still whispering doubts. “She’s so pretty, John. She’s so thin, and I’m nothing like her. I’m not like her.” I sobbed.

He chuckled, a soft smile gracing his lips and showing off his perfect teeth. The light gave him a heavenly glow, yellow highlighting his features that made him look warm. “No, you’re not. You’re nothing like her, Wren. But that’s one of the biggest things I love about you.” He gently pressed his thumb against my lips, helping silence my sobs as I hung onto every word. “Shhh. Don’t cry, darling. Do you not see? Do you not understand just how beautiful you are, inside and out? Do you not know what it is you do to me?”

“John—” I gasped, but he presses his lips softly against mine before pulling back.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this? I’ve thought of little else since I’ve first laid eyes on you.” He whispers. “I get to watch you, Wren. I get to watch you every night when you perform, and I want nothing more than to devour you, to have you all to myself.” He tugged the robe loose, making it fall open and his eyes travelled down. My skin heated immediately from his attention, his finger returning to my chest as it teasingly traced the top of my breast. “I waited, bidding my time for the perfect moment. It never seemed to come, though, and I had to watch as that idiot detective circled you. But I protected you when you needed, listened to you when you needed the shoulder to cry on. I wanted you, craved you, but needed you to be happy, to be ready and unafraid. I wanted to take my time with you, but I can’t keep my fucking hands off you.”

I laughed and his smile broadened as he leaned back. “So…you’re not engaged?”

He scoffed. “Hell no. We used to be, but that was years ago. She’s nothing to me.” He placed a light kiss on my nose, before going for my lips, but I stopped him. He gave me a look and I smirked.

“Did you break into my apartment?” I asked, my brow raising, and he gave me a smirk in return.

“Oh darling, I plead the fifth.”

“So, that’s a yes.”

“It is not. Need I remind you that I’m innocent until proven guilty?” he asked, a breathless laugh escaping him. He gave me a mischievous smirk, something dancing in his eyes that made my lower abdomen pull as I bit my lip. “I heard about what happened, Whitney told Rowan and I everything. Rowan was enraged, I believe she may or may not have taken a swing at our unwanted guest. I didn’t stay though, I needed to check on my girl.” He tilted my chin up gently, his lips brushing mine lightly. “And you are my girl, aren’t you darling?”

“Yes, John. I’m yours.” I breathed out and his lips crashed against mine once more. Everything forgotten as a sense of relief settled over me. My heart swelled as his hands caressed lovingly against my skin, holding me, and driving the last of my inner demons into the shadows as I fell into his sweet embrace.

[thebirthbysleep]

𝐭𝐰𝐨. 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 :  six thousand, five hundred and thirty words

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 : avoiding rampaging navy soldiers, din is forced to stay on the pirate ship until they reach land. she grows distasteful that she is no longer homebound, and now the conversation regarding her curse continues to come up.

she’s sleep again.

in her sleep, din would forget who she was as she was reduced to dust at the mercy of traumatising dreams from which she could not wake. any child, upon awakening from a terror in the deepest level of sleep, would cry into their parents arms, and would be comforted with warm and hushed encouragements. and as the tears stop, they can find themselves slowly falling back asleep. because the comfort is there, the arms in which they feel safest are stretched wide open and the dark doesn’t bother them anymore. no monster under the bed can peep out, no ghost in the corner of the room can reach them. their dreams, plagued by the darkest parts of the human imagination, become forgotten memories as the second wave of sleep hits. 

din wasn’t so lucky in that regard. she had no arms to run into, she couldn’t even awake from the nightmares; she would simply be put into another, and fight back the tears of fear whilst facing another demon, another fear, another beast hidden in the back of her mind, placed into a plane from which she could not escape. there wasn’t a time where she was not in a dream, even after she spent minutes in the tower, she would be thrown into a whirlpool of darkness, to return to further suffering.

it was expected at this point, that if she ever sleeps again the nightmares would follow her, a stalking of the soul that would only results in the further shattering of something that barely existed anymore. din found herself feeling like a coward with each passing year, weak at the raging vendetta of vengeful greek gods. the effect of the curse working, the gods rendering her powerless, and her will to fight back reduced to the size of a speck.

in this dream, din found peace for the first time. nothing bad happened, but neither did anything good come to happen as well. she was stuck in a pond where she floated, ears hovering above the water where she could hear the tweeting of birds and the familiar rustling of leaves in the trees which would fall into the pond as if to kiss the surface where the nymph laid. they sensed her, they sensed every part of her. they sensed that something good and pure had fallen into the pond just like a leaf picked off on autumn, meeting the flower with its fellow kin, to be blown into the wind just like all the others.

it was a strange feeling but din felt like she was home. the nostalgia floating in tepid water, the running of streams of the grotto she familiarised herself with. it was heaven. she could almost reach the pearly clouds and the blue sky that greeted her, the sun smiling down upon her warm face,

causing her cheeks to rush rosy. it was odd, but din felt herself stand, her feet touching the smooth rocks at the bottom of the pond.

and that’s when she saw the fishes swimming in colonies, flocking to their families and picking off the algae growing on rocks. an orchestra of croaking frogs came behind her, following by a symphony of crickets which created the most magnificent music piece known to man; ambiance.

here, din stood for god knows how long, bathing and playing with water as if to familiarize herself with an old hobby, like picking up a pencil to draw years after closing the sketch pad and letting it collect dust. this was home, whenever this was. a memory, not a dream; her mind wouldn’t know how to create something so raw with nature’s perfection, it was a memory and even her doubts told her it was a memory. one which she wished to linger in for eternity. she could never get lonely here.

but all dreams must come to an end and this one was no exception.

din opened icy eyes to a strange environment. below her was a soft mattress, her body entangled in sheets and a pillow at her side which she had embraced tightly. it was the only occasion where the girl could confirm that she felt refreshed upon waking up. it didn’t land on her that she was somewhere strange until she heard a small hum from beside her.

sat on the edge of the bed, rosé glanced down at the half-awake nymph with curiosity. seconds later, din squeaked and jumped up, scurrying back and nearly falling off the bed on the other side. it was only then when the memories of yesterday came flooding back, but din found herself too dazed to scowl. to scream and scold as she did best.

“ good morning, sleeping beauty. we’ve set course to a lovely place in the mediterranean. i don’t know whether you’ve been to venice; i hear it’s beautiful ”, rosé said with a cheeky grin, din continued to stare at her with flustered round eyes, blonde hair caught in a nest which would only infer that she had slept well. what made it almost comical was the way in which the nymph held the pillow so tightly to her chest. “ captain said he has some sources over there; sea witches who could point us in the right direction. we’re going to get rid of your curse, dinnie~! ”.

getting rid of her curse? that didn’t sound right. din said she would be doing it alone and would require no help from the people who parents were the only reason she had gotten the curse anyway. she was stubborn, she wouldn’t allow her pride to be further injured by just subjecting herself to obedience just because they had volunteered to help and claimed themselves to be innocent children.

but it was far too late to be complaining about that now, especially as she laid in a bed in a small cabin where she assumed someone else slept, unless if this was a spare. she saw the lack of decorations and things that would normally personalise something as intimate as a room. needless to say, aside from being in a strange room, she had also fallen into a pirate ship which was no sailing in the middle of nowhere. the ship she thought would be going to athens was probably halfway through its journey by now, but then she realised she wouldn’t have been able to go.

because the sailor whom she brought the ticket off of turned on her, pointed a finger and cried witch, and the ottoman soldiers came in with the intention of doing god knows what to harm the nymph. it wasn’t safe to beg for a return. she couldn’t just snatch the wheel off the captain’s hand, she didn’t know how to sail a ship. and by far the most important detail, was that she hated the sea.

it was easy to say that she was eager to get on land as soon as possible, whether it be venice or anywhere else in the world; she would see land and she would vanish, she would start making her way home no matter what she did.

her thoughts came to a stop as din let her eyes fall onto her figure and found herself wearing something she definitely never recalled owning; a sky blue sleeping gown that went just past her knees and she quickly adjusted the ends as it had risen, bringing a flood of redness spilling onto her cheeks. “ who changed my clothes last night? ”, she asked through a mumble. 

“ oh, i did! ”. the nerve of this girl to sound so proud had din’s head spinning. rosé continued to grin. “ i lent you one of my many fancy sleeping gowns. you were in that white dress for a hundred years, and a lady should always have nice clothes at her disposal. so i hope you’re comfortable. i can get you something nice after breakfast. “

at that, her stomach croaked and ached. the nymph only shuddered and refused to look at aphrodite’s daughter as she stood and chuckled, seemingly amused by such comedic timing even though din was hours away from becoming a skeleton. she hadn’t finished eating her dinner last night, the pita bread and the mead left to be collected and thrown to others. it broke din’s starving heart.

“ up you get! don’t worry, i won’t be bringing you on deck now. i know you might be feeling slightly uncomfortable after yesterday ”, rosé continued, now on her feet and looking through something in a wardrobe; din daren’t look, it wasn’t her business. “ marcato will whip you up something nice. he feeds us quite well, none of that icky sailor food most pirates tend to eat. ”

din hesitated, her legs falling to the side of the bed and her bare feet now touching the wooden floors. she was confused on why she still felt pain at the soles, like something was digging into them. until she recalled the thorn path, and the scars it would leave on her physical body. she thought it would heal given her curse of immortality, yet not a patch of skin had nursed itself back; it was not good. how was she to traverse lands whilst aiming to get back home?

“ are you hurt? ”.

even rosé sounded pleasantly surprised by the voice coming from the door. din quickly adjusted the skirt of her sleeping gown and did everything she could to avoid looking at sephtis. by far the most awkward encounter she’s had yet; she’d cursed his mother the most, her personal grudge towards hecate running rampant.

he leaned by the door, and had taken notice of how din had been studying her aching feet with a small sneer on her face. “ don’t worry, seph. i’ll get marcato to patch her up nicely. what is it, din? a cut or a bruise? ”, din really didn’t want to be showing them her feet, it felt odd.

“ a scar. it’s still healing ”, she murmured and heard another hum from sephtis who then approached her and leaned down in front of her, observing the scar that her run to the side of her feet, raging with redness and aching to brush against. she had to look away.

sephtis observed in silence, “ rose thorns. they usually have this fungus growing in them that scars and swells up the injury it leaves. where did you get these from? ”. no answer, din didn’t need to respond when he could guess it for himself. “ i see. i thought you were immortal, aren’t you usually supposed to heal quickly? ”.

“ i still feel pain and gets scars like any other mortal ”, din said defensively, almost moving to show the other scar she had gained on her stomach but that was something far too intimate and private, a memory she liked to bury in a black hole somewhere in her mind. “ i-i don’t know why this isn’t healing. ”

“ enchanted thorns? ”, rosé suggested from beside her, placing a change of clothes folded neatly beside the nymph and tapped her chin. it was a cute habit. “ hardly seen in real life, most likely fabricated in that period of sleep you were in. ” din scowled, she disliked how they brought it up so casually, hardly with any caution that it might bring hurt to the nymph.

sephtis sighed after standing, “ i don’t know. but i’ll ask marc to whip up a remedy for the swelling and burning sensation. if she’s like this then we can’t really explore venice with much comfort. ” upon saying so, he turned and walked to the door. hesitated. but then left, leaving din staring at the wall in front of her and clenching the bed sheets under her trembling hands.

rosé quickly took notice and beamed care-freely. “ i know it may seem strange now, you’re on a pirate ship with people you most likely despise with a passion. i can’t blame you. but . . . we thought that maybe if you were going to return home, getting rid of your curse was perhaps the first thing you should do ”, she stated, din stared hard at her. “ in case something bad happens and all of this repeats again. and you suffered long enough, it’s about time you get back to your life. ”

din snorted bitterly, “ what life? i don’t remember anything from my life in the grotto. all my kin have passed, my parents are no longer with me and the grotto has perhaps become just another stream for men to drink from. ” she bit her lip. “ mortal men care little for the care we nymphs have for nature. the nature they go on to ruin. which is why i have to go back, even if i’m there alone. ”

“ seems like a lonely life, does it not? ”. the nymph blinked, taken aback. “ even if you’re home, you’d still be alone. it’s rather sad. ”

it wouldn’t be lonely, din wanted to say. but she didn’t like lying to herself. in fact, she knew it would be lonely. yet then again, she wouldn’t have anything to compare it to. her memories of the grotto had been whipped completely, she didn’t know anyone, so she had no one to miss.

it would be lonely, but it was home.

rosé got up and shrugged gently, placing the change of clothes within din’s reach, but before she could walk off, din had to ask something that had been gnawing at her mind since last night. in her dreams, it was pleasantly forgotten; but now it was important. she didn’t know whether rosé would be honest, but she still dared to ask.

“ last night ”, she stated. rosé stopped. “ at the inn. you said it was the man who found me and ratted me out as a witch. was it really him, or was it another pirate tactic to get me aboard your ship? ”.

rosé observed her for a while, to the point where din avoided her gaze, the air thick with an awkward tension. had she said something that brought offense? she knew it was a bold claim to make, but honesty goes a long way.

“ din. ”

the nymph looked up.

rosé offered her a warm smile, nothing like the cheshire grin she had gotten used to. “ we don’t like playing dirty. that’s something i can promise you. we’re not our parents in that sense. we like honesty. and we wouldn’t make this up just to get you onboard. we want to help ”, she said. “ just as we’d help any other person with your circumstances. ”

din rose a brow. “ okay. maybe not any other person. we owe it to you. our parents wrong you, and we’re here to correct it. it mustn’t be nice to kill all who you touch, and live out some of your closest friends. where’s the fun in that? ”. rosé’s words seemed genuine. din was no professional lie-catcher, but nymphs never lied, sworn to pure honesty. she could tell when someone was being anything but purely honest. but rosé had surprised her.

it was pleasant, in a way, to learn that they carried good intentions. but her rage was still boiling, she still hadn’t forgotten what they’d done beyond putting her to sleep for a century. they destroyed all that she loved. and yes, her sorrow cost three hundred lives; at the expense of the god’s betrayal, of course, giving her a gift she hadn’t asked for and cursing her with immense trickery which was probably funny from where they saw it. to her, it was anything but. never once had she laughed whilst stuck in that night-mare dimension, not even a smile.

it was only sorrow, painful sorrow.

“ we’re going to make this right. we owe it to you in a way ”, rosé continued, tapping her foot against the floors. “ i don’t really regret touching that gold. it awoke someone who will now give us the chance of an adventure of a life-time, and we’d be doing something for a good cause. ”

the nymph glowered, “ i’m not a compass. ”

“ no. you’re not ”, rosé quickly corrected herself. “ but you must understand, the whole concept of piracy is deemed a taboo. and we’ve sort of allowed ourselves into a self-fulfilling prophecy. we do pillage and steal and fight. with you onboard, it’s going the first time we’ll be venturing out for a good cause. we’re not heading off into the world to steal to survive. we’ll be helping you. and god knows, you deserve it. ”

it was deemed too perfect of an opportunity for din to accept. for all she knew she could be dumped back onto the hands of these gods and perhaps killed. she didn’t trust the kids yet, she couldn’t bring herself to do so when she still ached so much. deities weren’t good beings, they were selfish and it was painful to see the respect normal mortals held for them. they allowed their own personal grudges to have an impact on the world.

she wasn’t sure if it was true but she’d heard that after the fall of the january festival, there was ten consecutive days of rain that brought about a flood in the coastal region; poseidon’s doing, no less. demeter’s anger killed most of the crops. most gods allowed their anger to run wild and it hurt the greek population more than din’s storm did.

it was ironic, and unfair. yet she was perfectly comfortable with accepting the role as the antagonist. she had the perfect tragic backstory to become one. although most antagonists wind up crushed under the weight of the gods, din promised to be sly.

but right now, at that very moment, she had no choice but to comply. strand on a ship in the middle of the mediterranean, she would have to play along and then flee when they got to venice. it was the only way. would she be alone again? yes. but better alone than with these people.

she hadn’t noticed how quiet she’d gotten, and when she looked up, rosé was still smiling, but now sat beside her. din could only raise the corner of her lip and bow her head in slight dismay, squeaking when she felt what appeared to be a pair of cherry lips pressing against her cheek. rosé then quickly stood up. “ i’ll ask marc to get your breakfast ”, she said and then left, leaving a blushing din recovering holding her cheek, heart hammering.

the only worry she had, was that the charm of these demi-gods would be too much for her aching heart to handle.

･ ｡ﾟ.˚⊹･゜

the clothes felt weird.

as a nymph, din was used to no clothes at all. most nymphs would display their bodies and cover themselves with leafs around intimate parts, and took to nature to decorate their hair and bodies similar to how a mortal would craft jewelry and accessories from gold and stones.

the first time din saw her reflection after a century, she didn’t recognize herself. she hadn’t realized she had blonde hair quite like the locks she owned, and her eyes perhaps weren’t as azure as before. oddly, she thought back to the girl in her dreams. and how their features were basically swapped. for reasons unknown, she found the girl’s beauty far more striking than what the nymph saw in the mirror.

regardless, she fixed the tight waist-coast hugging her torso, the sleeves of the white shirt rolled up as they were a little long. the skirt was by far her favorite part; navy blue, her favorite color, and it went just past her ankles. shoes polished and clicking against all they touched, din thought that she could very well pass as a peasant girl, or maybe a maid or cook working on a ship. ordinary, just the way she liked it.

she remained uncertain of what to do with her hair, and in the end, let it fall loose after brushing it.

what was for breakfast was unknown to her, but it smelt nice when she stepped out onto the hallway, hands grazing against the walls to keep herself balanced. although it was a big ship and the water seemed calmer, din was still disturbed by the trembling and wading just as any person with a fear of the ocean would feel.

“ din! you’re up, that’s good! ”.

marcato sounded pleasant that morning, he had an air to him that was identical to his father’s. but apollo was more of a flamboyant god with smiles that could blind; what she now stared at was an almost exact replica coated in timidity.

in his hands, he held two wooden bowls and she spotted what appeared to be porridge with honey and chopped bananas on the stop, and she held her stomach so it wouldn’t cry out at the sight of something so divine.

she was seconds away from forgetting her manners, but she composed herself as the male placed the one bowl down on the table and beckoned her over. din gave a suspicious look around, marcato seemingly knowing why. “ don’t worry, i asked everyone to stay on deck so you can eat in peace. daeva is quite grumpy during the morning, and griffin is too loud ”, the sunny boy laughed and began to eat from the other bowl. “ dig in before it gets cold. ”

with some hesitation, din complied, lifting her spoon and observing the oats. could a ship like this really house such incredible ingredients? she wasn’t certain whether they had just stolen it or had someone make it for them, but din was impressed. from inside, it was already far prettier than the paladin, which she was supposed to have sailed off in that morning.

the thought of what would’ve happened to her on that vessel, aboard with only men, with a rumor flying around of her being a witch; din didn’t wish to linger on it. so with a shudder, she began to eat.

“ i know this hardly seems like a pirate ship. but it’s home for us ”, marcato said after a few silent spoonfuls. “ griffin usually fixes it when we’ve set course somewhere. he gets quite busy. he strengthened the thickness of the walls of the gallows, so our food and goods don’t get hurt by impacts or accidents. ”

din stopped, spoon hovering by her lips. “ how often would i have to worry about any of those happening? ”. marcato chuckled, but din didn’t mean to be funny, she was quite serious.

luck isn’t something din would say accompanied her on a regular, but she’s been having quite a lot of it after she woke up in regards to food. the food at the inn was something she wouldn’t quite forget, and this breakfast was no different. care was put into it, something about the softness of marcato’s hands justified this. the sweetness rolled right off her tongue.

“ are you feeling better? you completely blacked out after you came aboard last night ”, din had forgotten this entirely. to her, she was brought to a comfortable bed and slept soundlessly. that dream then came afterwards and she found peace. only to be awoken by rosé looming beside her.

her lips trembled for a moment, “ i’m fine. i just have a slight phobia of open water. makes me sick. besides, my plans were spoiled. maybe it was anger or just total panic that brought around a total collapse. ”

“ maybe it was pain, as well ”, marcato set his bowl of porridge behind him and went towards a cupboard where he pulled out a vial. a remedy. they’d really asked him to make her something for her injuries. her toes curled slightly, wondering if it would sting or hurt any further than the excessive burning on the scars on her soles. “ this will do the trick. ”

“ you don’t have t— ”.

“ i do ”, marcato said quickly, walking on over to her and sitting in front of her after pulling up a chair. “ it wouldn’t feel right to have an injured person aboard. i can tell you’re hurting. comes with being the son of the god of disease and healing. ”

could he sleep knowing someone nearby was in pain, she wondered. marcato motioned to her shoes, and after finishing her breakfast, din slipped the small heels off and hugged her knees to her chest, feeling bashful and she stopped the young man as he went to pour the medicine onto a cotton bud. “ can i do it myself? ”, she questioned.

he moved to give her the bud, but she shook her head. he would have to place it on the table, because if she touching something he was holding, she would make it disappear. it was just like what occurred with daeva’s sword the other day.

“ ah, your power. ”

marcato applied more of the oil-like substance onto the bud and then placed it on the table. and din took it quickly, and slowly dabbed it against the scars which would most likely turn purple if they hadn’t been treated any sooner. it didn’t hurt or sting to apply the medicine, to her pleasant surprise. “ it smells nice ”, she murmured. “ like— ”.

“  —chrysanthemums? i add floral scents to my medicine ”, the healer said, cheeks dusted pink like he’d just shared a timid secret. “ it makes the healing experience pleasant. most medicines smell like bitter herbs, and floral scents relax people. ”

din chuckled vaguely, amused by the confession. although she was forced to agree; floral scents were one of the many wonders of the world. they came in huge quantities and distinctions. subconsciously, din thought back to the grotto, and wondered whether she would familiarize with these blessed scents.

flowers were truly the gift of the world. it was as if persephone traced every single one with precision, and then breathed life into it. there wasn’t a flower that din didn’t know, but she hoped that perhaps she would come across others on her way back home.

in these thoughts, din hardly took notice of how quickly the scars were healing; like magic. she continued to picture the wind of colors that came with leafs and flowers. it was a form of meditation for her, she just had to picture what mattered to her the most. her thoughts ran wild of what beauties she would find back home.

“ do you have a favorite flower? ”.

she immediately shook her head,��“ i don’t. it wouldn’t be fair to pick a favorite when they have so much value, one matters just as much as the other. medicine, food, beverages, most also aid in the care of our world. i love each one, even the ones i may not know about. ” with that said, din looked up at marcato. “ do you? ”.

“ u-uh, verbascum clementine, maybe. especially the ones with the faint yellow or orange color. i would say sunflower but . . . ”. din chuckled again, it would be self-explanatory. “ b-but i also like lavenders. ” marcato met her gaze shyly.

before she could conjure a response, din heard a noise from the entrance of the kitchen and spotted somnia. daughter of hypnos, and that morning, din didn’t find any energy to insult or argue. “ captain is calling all of us on deck, he says it’s urgent ”, somnia said and yawned into her hand, before taking a quick leave.

din glanced back down at the soles of her feet and found the redness fading and the swelling would soon be over. so she slipped her shoes back on and picked up her bowl of porridge and brought it over to what appeared to be a sink. “ y-you don’t have to wash it! ”.

it would be impolite if she didn’t, but the captain was calling, and she didn’t want to be the one keeping people waiting. so she left it on the side, adjusting her clothes before following marcato onto the deck.

what was difficult was getting up the stairs without feeling like she would tumble back, but she broke through into the sunlight which blinded her, her hands quickly thrown before her eyes in an attempt to protect them. she could hear the waves crashing from below, but the sound amplified as she stepped out, her stomach spinning with anxiety.

but as her eyes slowly adjusted, she blinked and was welcomed by a sight unlike any other. it was most definitely the most stunning ship she’d come to see, polished and clean, not a hole or crack in sight. it smelled of fresh paint and sea water, a funny mixture yet one that didn’t irritate or cause strange sensations.

“ morning, din! ”.

she heard griffin call from the side. the son of hephaestus didn’t share many resemblances to his father aside from the ears and perhaps the pouted lips. griffin was boyish, with dimples and muscles in every sense. she knew his father lingered with cyclopses, creatures unharmed by flames and also master smiths and creators.

marcato was right in saying that the ship looked so pleasant due to griffin’s seemingly strive at perfection. everything was precisely placed; who on earth would’ve guessed this to be a pirate ship?

“ busy so early in the morning? ”, she asked, feeling comfortable to talk to him the most out of everyone else in the crew. she continued to hold a hand against her forehead to avoid being blinded, whilst approaching a working griffin. “ what are you doing? ”.

griffin sniffled and then raked a hand through his brown hair, “ adding some metal onto the cannon side. not a thick sheet so it shouldn’t weight that much, but usually when we engage in sea warfare, our port cannons get butchered. we’ve lost two in our encounter in tortuga. so we can’t really repeat the same mistakes. ”

din wouldn’t have known that they suffered during warfare for how cared for the ship was. but as she looked deeply, she saw minor scratches on the edge of the port side, scars gained from engaging with people who had far more experience. but she thought of piracy of something like an apprenticeship; you learn on the way, and usually end up knowing more than scholars.

“ you seem to know quite a lot ”, she uttered, mostly under her breath but griffin picked it up with some ease.

he even laughed, setting down a hammer he held onto the floor and rubbing his scarred hands. “ i hear that a lot. i’ve been on the run from bitter gods for a while. maybe since i was fifteen or sixteen. when cap found me, i’d already gone through about four different crews ”, he revealed. “ two spanish ones, one french and one portuguese. i was always the mechanic, but i know a thing or two about sea warfare and the gamble that it is. ”

din almost didn’t hear what he said after he revealed something. about being on the run. well, it was no wonder she felt fonder of him than she did for the others. but it confused her; his father wasn’t a bitter man, he was fine serving as a blacksmith and being overworked to the brink of exhaustion. why would griffin be on the run? unless if hephaestus wasn’t the one he was avoiding.

and griffin spotted her confusion, “ my dad is alright. it’s his lovely spouse who makes things a little . . . complicated. she found out he pursued a mortal when she left him to be with ares, went absolutely insane. i guess it’s only because of rosé that i’m safe. ”

din turned her attention to where he nodded, on the quarterdeck, where the daughter of aphrodite sat chatting away with marcato and sephtis. “ i owe her a lot. she fools around a lot but she’s quite protective. i couldn’t have asked for a better half-sister. even if she annoys me half to death ”, with a snort, griffin turned back to his work.

･ ｡ﾟ.˚⊹･゜

the meeting didn’t come as urgently as din had expected, it took about an hour for the pirates to sort out an issue they were having with the gunpowder that was apparently weighing the boat down. whilst they disputed in the captain’s cabin, din took the time to explore the ship.

there wasn’t exactly much she could do other than walk around the deck. at first she didn’t advance onto the forecastle deck which was stationed right at the end of the ship, but it came to a point where boredom led her there, gentle steps finding her atop this elevated platform that allowed a view of the sea ahead of them that would scare but amaze every person.

to din, it was a matter of picturing the ship was the biggest component to the image. she couldn’t think of how big some waves could get, how easily this ship could be engulfed by one of poseidon’s murderers. the sea was an angry monster, hungry; it would swallow all it wanted. that was where her fear of it stemmed from.

it was no a matter of the beasts that laid within the waves; it was the ocean it itself, in its entire greatness and immense size, and the phenomenons that occur. whirlpools were by far her greatest fears; a large cyclone, a crack in the water sucking in all that couldn’t resist its great pull.

the very thought had the nymph cringing.

“ what are you doing out here? ”.

daeva.

din resisted the urge to roll her eyes and turned to glance at the male with a clenched jaw, “ am i not allowed? ”. what the nymph found was that her mood derailed the moment daeva opened his mouth or so much as came near here, it started the moment he pointed the sword at her yesterday; a foolish mistake, now she wanted him as good as dead.

“ no, you are. but the meeting is starting soon ”, daeva grunted, motioning over to where the pirates had gathered; just in the main deck, a map stretched out on a wide area with the captain pointing at certain places. at that, din moved past daeva, almost bumping into him on her way out of the forecastle.

she came to find theseus explaining the plan once they’d arrived in venice. by the nods he was getting, most agreed, and he politely rose his head when din approached. “ oh, you’re here! good, we were just going to ask you whether you’ve heard of tortuga ”, he said with a boyish grin.

tortuga? well, from what she’d heard, these pirates had wrecked havoc and had managed to tick off a couple of french soldiers. was it wise to put your feet back there when you had a navy after you?

“ yeah, i guess i have. ”

sephtis pointed to the island on the map, a mere speck opposed to the other islands of the caribbean. “ theseus says there’s a sea witch who apparently deals with curses. where in the island, i don’t know. but she’s there. and she hasn’t had many visitors in a few centuries ”, he explained.

din frowned, “ wait, weren’t you going to venice? ”.

“ we are ”, somnia cut in. “ but not because of the curse. we need to stack up on resources if we’re going to journey across the atlantic. we also need to find any island to stop at in case we have to hide. there are a few islands in between europe and the caribbean, and we need to find every single one. ” she nodded to griffin. “ he said the italians will help. ”

din looked at the taller male and he gave her a smile, “ relax, i know a couple of guys over there. they’re expert at maps. probably know territories we’d never even imagine. with the ottomans pissed off, the royal navy basically roaming the seas, and the french after us, we’ll need to be sneaky. ”

now she stepped closer to the map, and saw the lack of land in the atlantic aside from the huge continents of which she already knew. she pointed her index finger against the coast of africa, “ we might find a chain of islands here, and then cross directly into the caribbean. the shorter the distance, the better. but we also have to avoid following the trail of europeans colonizers. they’ll kill us. ”

“ well, we just about ticked off every european monarchy under the map. unless if we take down one of the ships at sea and steal their flag and clothes ”, theseus proposed, and griffin immediately shook his head. “ what’s wrong? ”.

griffin crossed his arms, “ we don’t have a lot of people in our crew. they usually carry twenty to thirty men in every ship. it’s fine that we have a small crew since we’re pirates, but the european ships will get suspicious. for that plan to work, we need more crew members. ”

“ we need to pick up more, then ”, rosé said pleasantly. “ i say we’ll find some as we cross the mediterranean. for now, we should focus on getting to venice, finding our sources, and we’ll pick up new members on the way. ” the girl clapped her hands, as if the meeting was over. “ great! now can we pick up more speed to get to italy sooner? ”.

theseus held a finger in waiting, and glanced carefully at din. “ i understand if you might be suspicious of coming with us. but we want the best for you, din ”, he said, bringing the nymph to frown more. “ this sea witch . . . she’s dangerous, but she’s our only hope. at least that we know of. we can break your curse if you want. ”

god, she wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible. and although the course had already been set and plans had been made, din was still resilient in joining them. in fear of putting her life at risk. she couldn’t die, but if she was jailed or imprisoned by officers on sea, it would be another period of imprisonment. and it wouldn’t be long before she was trialed with piracy.

she couldn’t risk it, and she wouldn’t.

yet the sly nymph to look the pirates in the eyes and nod.

“ i’ll come with you.”

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨.

[askmelanahost]

Part 2! I hope you enjoy!

Coming to another time in Melana’s life. She is sixteen years old and in high school. Like Jack had said, she didn’t remember quite much of anything from the mansion, just going to it. She just lived life like normal not even interested in the mansion. Though her dreams were filled with nightmares of the mansion calling to her in many different ways. She ignored them all, of course, keeping the mansion in the back of her mind.

She was driving to school one day, everything peaceful and normal for a Monday morning on her normal commute. Though something seemed to catch her one eye as something glowed in her passenger seat.

“When will you come back, my sweet Melana.” A voice whispered, but when Melana looked over, nothing was their insight. It sounded like a young males voice, it sent shivers down Melana’s spine. But she brushed it off and she continued to school.

Arriving at Gale Sound Highschool, she parked in her usual parking spot and she went in. Fixing her hair a little as she put on a big smile and started walking to her friends.

“Hey, Anabelle, Nancy, Sarina, Jack..” Melana greeted, Jack had moved in town a few years after the young ones traveled to the desolate mansion, though three never told him about it.

“Hey, Melana!” The three replied.

Melana sighed as she looked down, giving out her happy appearance.

“Melana? What’s wrong?” Jack questioned. “Did you see another one?” Melana nodded.

“Yeah, but it was more specific this time, a blue glow in my passenger and a voice, it sounded like a young teenage male, asking me about the mansion, when I would come back. It was weird.” Melana explained.

“That does sound weird, at least your safe,” Jack replied. Nancy, Sarina, and Anabelle nodded in agreement.

“Maybe we should visit it again?” Anabelle suggested.

“What?! Are you serious?!” The twins said in unison. 

“It might be cool to see something I’ve never seen before,” Jack said.

“It all comes down to the tiebreaker, Melana,” Anabelle said looking to Melana.

“I’ll have to think about it,” Melana said as she started to walk to class, the others following in suite. All of them going their separate ways.

After their long day of learning highschool things, they met up at Melana’s car.

“Don’t you guys have your driver’s license yet? Now I don’t have a choice…” Melana said in defeat. Anabelle smiled mischievously, Jack smiling as well. Nancy and Sarina giving small smiles.

“Alright non-drivers, let’s go to the Gracey Mansion I guess..” Melana sighed as she got in the driver seat starting her car and driving to the mysterious forest.

Once they got there, they all got out walking to their final destination. After at least fifteen minutes they made it to the worse looking mansion. Melana sighed as she felt a pit in her stomach.

“Something isn’t right. The door is open,” Melana said, “Let me check what’s up.” She said walking towards the opened door.

“What? The door isn’t opened.” Anabelle said.

“It is! It’s completely wide open.” Melana assured.

“Are you seeing those Melana. The door is shut and most likely locked.” Jack added. Melana sighed in frustration.

“Guess I’m seeing things again..” Melana sighed, though still walking towards the door, ignoring their non-verbal warnings.

“Melana stop.” Anabelle said.

“Yeah stop!” The twins replied.

“Yeah!” Jack added in. Though not sure what was going on at the moment. But Melana was completely out of it now, her eyes droopy and she continued to walk closer and closer, being pulled in by the mansion’s trance. The friend group didn’t think to stop the troubled teen as she reached the front door, the door to them finally opening by itself. All of them terrified with fear, that the house was alive. They all snapped out of their terrified state and they all called out.

“MELANA!” But it was too late, the door slammed behind her. The four running up and trying everything to pry the door open to help their friend. 

“Should we call the police?!” Anabelle asked.

“And tell them what? That a house kidnapped our friend and she’s locked in?” Nancy replied, “They’ll think we’re out of our minds!”

“We have to get her out! She could get killed!” Jack said, almost on the verge of tears.

“Right! Let’s think!” Sarina said as she walked away from the door, getting the others around to figure out a plan.

Snapping out of her subconscious, Melana found herself on the floor of a nice looking hallway.

“Huh? What happened, why does my head hurt so bad… Wait, where am I?” Melana thought holding her throbbing head. Melana sat up looking around. She looked up and saw a window. She stood up and walked over to it, freezing in terror once she realized where she was. She covered her mouth trying not to scream, not wanting to draw any attention to herself, though that plan had already failed, a small glow emitted from behind her.

“What is someone with beauty like yours doing in a decaying mansion such as mine?” A young male asked. Melana froze with fear, she turned around slowly, her eyes going small as she saw the scariest thing she has ever seen in her life.

“GHOST!! I’m gonna die here!” Melana thought.

“I didn’t mean to trespass, I swear! I’ll just be on my way!” Melana said with the confidence she had left to muster. She booked it for the door, turning the doorknob, only finding out now the disturbing truth, she was stuck.

“My dear seems you are stuck here for a while. Let me introduce myself, I am Gracey, the residents here call me Master Gracey. I own the mansion.” Gracey said.

“Uh, I-I’m M-Melana…” Melana said sheepishly.

“No need to be scared love, I’m here to help protect you,” Gracey reassured. 

“O-Okay, w-why am I here?” Melana questioned.

“Either to your fate, or to find out something. The mansion picks and chooses. But come, let me take you on a small tour.” Gracey said, appearing at Melana’s sighed, which made her jump. Gracey wrapped his arm around her arm and he started to walk taking Melana in tow. 

His tour guided her through the surprisingly well-fitted mansion, nothing was decomposing or rotting, which Melana questioned very much, but didn’t mention, she met some other ghouls as well.

“This is Madam Leota. She is a fortune teller.” Gracey explained.

“S-She’s a h-head…” Melana stuttered

“Yes child, I am without a body. But do not be afraid, your future sees no death for a long time, but soon, something special will happen.” Leota responded with a smile. Melana sighed in relief.

“Thank goodness. I didn’t want to die,” Melana said, “but something special? I don’t think so.” 

“Listen to your heart child, and something special will pop out with no problem,” Leota replied. 

“Okay, I guess,” Melana said.

“Alright my dear, we should continue! More people to meet and so little time, materializing is very short in these times, then I will take you to your room, don’t worry, I will keep you safe out of harm’s way, your room will stand alone from the others, close to mine though.” Gracey said.

“That sounds reassuring, but I need to eat, and drink,” Melana brought up.

“Oh! Of course! My chefs will make the finest feast, for someone with beauty like yours, you only deserve the best.” Gracey said.

“O-Okay,” Melana responded. She looked around some more. “Where do those stairs lead to?” Melana asked.

“You mustn’t go up those stairs, those stairs lead to the attic, and you don’t want to see what vengeful ghost lurks up there,” Gracey warned. Melana gulped a bit but nodded.

“Master Gracey. It’s almost time.” An older male said from behind, which made Melana freeze in place.

“Alister please, try not to frighten the poor girl. I just got her used to everything,” Gracey said now agitated. 

“Sorry Master Gracey,” Alister replied. Melana turned around to face her new apprentice. With no eye and a noose tied loosely around his neck, his fate was sealed immediately by the looks Melana got of him.

“Alister, please take her to the room beside mine, she doesn’t need to be wandering the halls at this late,” Gracey demanded. Alister nodded and held his hand out for Melana to take.

“Come young one, let this short tour be ended, I will lead the way,” Alister said. Melana took his hand, oddly finding comfort in his gentle soft hands. He leads the way, giving small ghost jokes along the way to lighten the mood, which Melana giggled slightly to everyone.

“Found of jokes are you?” Alister asked.

“Oh yeah, I have a sense of humor like no other. I love dad jokes and puns as well, my dad wrote a whole journal of jokes, I read that thing multiple times. It’s one of the things that mom lets me have insight into how dad was like when he was still alive,” Melana said.

“I’m sorry for your passing. I hope you’ve done well, you’ve seemed to have done well without him,” Alister said.

“Yeah, I guess. But I wish I could’ve met him though…” Melana said sheepishly.

“Well, we can talk more about it in the morning, we have arrived,” Alister said, opening the door and showing the big room with a well-kept bed in the middle. “If you need anything, just call, I will always be able to help, as well as Master Gracey, or Madam Leota.” Melana nodded.

“Thank you, mister Alister,” Melana said as she walked into the room.

“You can just call me Alister,” Alister replied with a smile. Melana nodded as she silently closed the door, she ran over and hid under the covers of the bed even putting the pillows under the blanket so she can rest properly, not even five minutes later, Melana was out like a light.

______________________________________________________________

Sorry its quite short, but I hope you still enjoyed anyway!

@asktheghosthost

[teamhook]

CSSNS 2019 Dark Blue Star

Hello all!

This is my contribution to this year's CSSNS. I know my other story is still going on and it will find it's ending, but since I cannot say no to @kmomof4 here I am, once more.

I wanna thank the lovely ladies at the CSSNS Discord. I love chatting with you all.

And since we all know how shady Blue truly is I give you Rionnag Dubh Dorcha... I took the title from Reul Ghorm, and please forgive me if the translation is not spot on. Blame Google translate. :)

I wanna thank the mods of CSSNS19, my lovely very patient Beta @searchingwardrobes and my artist for the event @hollyethecurious

FFN     AO3

A/N: It is said that evil is not born but made. This is how an act of kindness is twisted into a story about revenge. Emma and Killian are childhood friends until a tragedy separates them will another reunite them. 

Rionnag Dubh Dorcha (Dark Blue Star)

Every town has an urban legend that they tell to scare kids, yet the stories tend to change with time. The real story sometimes gets lost. This is how this one is told.

A long time ago in the middle of the Enchanted Forest there lived a kind woman who loved children forevermore. Her heart was true, but misunderstood. She had once before victoriously escaped a grim fate, but was unable to succeed again. This time her fate was sealed.

Storybrooke had become home to Hester Blue after she narrowly escaped the witch hunts in Salem and left her fallen sisters behind in order to survive. She had hated her cowardness, but finally settled in a new town. She had found her home. She was adored by the town's children. She would give them sugar glazed fruit and greet them with a kind smile. On the day their final baby tooth fell, she would give them a special treat a gold coin.

Everything was peaceful for years. Until she was falsely accused when two of the town's most beloved young children went missing in the woods. No time for explanations or pleas. In their outrage, the town quickly served their brand of justice.

Hester was making treats for the children. Her little cabin filled with the aroma of the sweets. She heard a commotion outside quickly approaching. There were angry men walking closer to the house with torches. She panicked and barricaded the door to keep them out. The men outside angrily called out for her to open the door. The little house shook as they pounded their fists on the old wood. With her back on the wall she lowered herself to the floor. The tears freely flowed. It was happening again and she had a feeling this time luck was not on her side. The vengeful mob finally tore the door off its hinges, ripping it apart piece by piece. They found her sitting on the ground.

Hester was yanked by the hair as she kicked and screamed, "I didn't do anything!" Tears stained her face. The men hauled her out of the safety of her home. They overpowered her and tied her to the large tree that shaded her home and simply told her that her life had been forfeited the moment she made the children disappear. As she took her last breath, she swore vengeance and cursed the town. Later that night when the children emerged from deep within the forest unharmed, the townspeople realized their mistake. They buried Hester's body by the tree that witnessed her death and promised never to speak of her again. No one noticed the tree started to wither away.

Time passed, and the small town of Storybrooke grew so much that the woods in the heart of the Enchanted Forest became a park. There was a dark shroud that extended from the tallest tree in the center of the park to the outer town line. The story of Hester Blue, the Blue Fairy, became a legend. People said her dark spirit visited children on the night they lose their last baby tooth. If anyone sees her when she visits, they are marked for her vengeance.

The children's sightings of the fairy had gone unnoticed by the adults. The sightings increased as the town prospered. The children would share their encounters to give each other a good fright. Once in a while, a nameless child would disappear never to be seen again or heard from ever again.

The attacks on the founding families could not be missed anymore. Finally, the adults heard of the infamous fairy tale.

In every generation, the youngest child of each founding family would disappear leaving the bloodline to continue on with the eldest. The missing children who caused her death were the youngest in their families. The adults never saw the connection: that the curse was the fairy's revenge.

The adults would murmur their suspicions hoping they were wrong.

They weren't.

The Jones ancestors had promptly left America to return to their homeland due to a family emergency. Their estate had flourished under several stewards throughout the years.

Now, Brennan Jones has returned to Storybrooke with his family. They are one of the six notorious founding families along with the Spencers, Mills, Midases, Golds, and Blanchards.

Brennan and his wife Alice shared two sons. The eldest had brown curly hair and blue eyes while the younger had unruly black hair and the classic bright blue eyes of the Jones lineage.

David Nolan had inherited his steward position from his father Robert. It was a family tradition. David and Brennan had met on many times to discuss the financials, and although there was an amicable trust between the families, their true friendship developed soon after the arrival of the Jones.

Liam and Killian quickly bonded with Emma, but the relationship between the youngest Jones and Emma was undeniable. They became thick as thieves quickly. Liam served as an older brother to the two, and he loved them even when they followed him around everywhere. Soon a boy Liam's age moved to the neighborhood and they became friends, Robin Locksley.

The children grew up hearing of the stories. They failed to heed the warnings until it was too late.

The night the youngest Jones boy lost his baby tooth breathed life to the dark fairy myth.

The day's end was fast approaching. Emma smiled sweetly at her friend. "Hey, Killian. Don't forget to put your tooth under your pillow. Who knows what the fairy has in store for you?"

Killian laughed, "You don't truly believe the stories are true?"

"I don't know, I mean for as long as I can remember, I've heard the stories. Uhm, I did it, and I got a gold coin." She blushed as she confessed her secret.

"A gold coin? Do you still have it?" Killian asked excitedly.

She giggled, "Well, yeah but I've got it at home. I didn't bring it with me. I could run home and get it if you want."

There was a soft knock on his bedroom door. "Killian, Emma, we are leaving now. Liam is outside with Robin if you need anything." The door slowly opened, and his mother entered with a smile on her face. "Let me look at you my handsome son, will you behave for your brother and maybe I can convince your father to take us sailing this weekend?"

Killian couldn't help smile wide at the prospect of going sailing with his family. They all loved the water, but Killian was especially fond of it. "Mum, can Emma come along?"

Alice couldn't help noticing the new gap in her son's smile. "Oh dear, did you lose another one?"

"I did it was my last one. I'm no longer the baby of the family," he stated proudly.

"Nonsense, you will always be my little boy. I love you, and yes Emma can come along if her parents allow it."

"I'll make sure he stays out of trouble, Mrs. Jones," Emma ensured.

"Emma, I know you will, you are the only one that can tame my rambunctious son. We will be back soon." She winked at the duo as she left.

"Should we watch a movie?" Killian blushed as he sat closely next to Emma on the bed.

"Did you still wanna see the coin? I can go get it." Emma nudged his shoulder with her own.

"If you like, we can go after the movie."

"Okay, so what do you wanna watch?" Emma resumed her seat.

Killian scratched behind his ear, "I remember you once told me that your favorite movie is 'The Princess Bride' I found it, and I've never seen it. If you don't mind, we can watch it."

"Are you sure you wanna watch a girly movie? I know it has a pirate in it, but you don't have to watch it just because I like it." Emma shrugs. "We can always watch some action movie."

He wanted to see it because she liked, and he liked her. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he fancied her a lot. Liam would never stop teasing him if he knew.

"Emma, I want to watch it. You say it's good, and I trust you."

"Okay, do you have any popcorn or something to snack on?" she asked as her stomach growled.

He smiled fondly, "I'll go make the popcorn and get something to drink. Did you want a sandwich too?"

She blushed, "Nope, the popcorn and drinks will be fine. I'll set up here."

"I'll be back." Killian left his room and made his way to the kitchen to get their snacks.

He returns to his room with a tray filled with snacks. He not only has the popcorn but some chips, sandwiches, and drinks.

They watch the movie and soon are comparing favorite pirates.

"Killian, did you still want to go get the coin?" Emma asked.

"Emma, do you mind going alone? I left a mess in the kitchen, and if I don't clean it up my parents will ground me." He gave her a slight pout.

"I can go by myself. I'm a big girl. Okay, I will be back." She smiles and walks out.

Outside Emma smiles at Liam and Robin as she makes her way home. "Hey, I'm going home for a sec."

Liam and Robin share a look as they see the younger girl jog home.

"They're really close aren't they?"

"Yes, I think my little brother is smitten and doesn't even know it." Liam smiles at his friend. "Rob, did you ever talk to Marian?"

"Yes, I did and," Robin smiled "we are officially a couple." His happiness was obvious.

"I'm happy for you two." Liam bumps Robin's shoulder.

"Come on mate, there has to be someone you fancy."

"Rob, I'm not interested in anyone. Besides, I want to focus on my studies."

"You say that now mate, but when you meet her, you'll know." Robin winks at him and they burst out laughing.

Emma approaches them smiling. "Hey guys, I'm back"

"I'm sure my brother missed you." Liam teases her.

Emma rolls her eyes and waves at them as she makes her way inside the Jones home.

Killian is in his room tidying up and looks up and smiles.

"Did you miss me?" Emma asks.

Killian smiles, "Yes, I did. So do you have it?"

Emma takes the gold coin out of her pocket and hands it to him.

Killian inspects it, "This looks very old."

"I know, uhm, they say that a fairy leaves the coin but you cannot look at her. If you do-"

"And you believe this?" Killian is skeptical.

"I didn't before, but I did find the coin." Emma shrugs.

"It could have been your parents."

"I don't know, Killilan. My parent's seemed surprised when I showed it to them. My mom cannot keep a secret."

"Emma, I don't know if I believe it, but the coin is nice." He smiles at her.

They talk until Emma has to go home, and they finally wish each other goodnight.

Killian is fast asleep when a noise wakes him. Frightened, he listens carefully. There's some scuffling, and he pulls the covers refusing to look. He swears he is not afraid, so he decides to peek.

Worse decision ever. He is startled by what he sees. There's a body hovering over him. The scarred face growls when he shines his flashlight directly to its face. It screeches as it covers its face.

Killian runs to the restroom and locks himself inside with the lights on. He hides still holding his flashlight. The doorknob shakes frantically, and the lights flicker then it all stops. He loses track of time as he hides in the bathtub.

There's a soft knock on the door. "Killian, son it's mum. Are you okay?"

"Mum, is that you?"

"Yes it is, who else would it be?"

There is silence for a moment.

"Son, open the door."

"No, there's someone in my room."

"Sweetheart, there's no one. Liam and your father are outside talking. It's just you and I."

"Mum, there is someone in my room."

"I'm gonna prove there's no one." She makes her way to his room. She opens the door wide open and speaks loudly. "No one is in here, Killy." There's a scuffling and she turns to the source and screams.

The scream quickly reaches Killian and he quickly rushes out of the restroom. In his room, he finds his mother's limp body on the floor. He kneels next to her and shakes her to try to wake her. She is so still, so unlike herself. She is always full of energy. Her pale skin is an angry red in some areas, while in others it's beginning to scald although her clothes are still as pristine as they were earlier that night. Killian cannot stop the tears from blurring his eyes. He doesn't understand what has happened. How could his mother's skin be burned when there is no fire?

Liam and Brennan run inside the house. They separate to check all the rooms for the source of the scream. Brennan is the one that arrives first. He is shocked to find his youngest kneeling next to the prone body, the lifeless form of his beloved.

Brennan moves quickly, he kneels opposite of Killian and glares at his son. "What have you done?" He gently shakes his wife's body trying to wake her.

Killian refuses to let go of his mother's bloodied hand. "Father, I didn't do anything. I was in the restroom. I told mum someone was in my room."

"Where! Where is this person? Liam and I saw no one while we rushed inside? Where?!" Brennan screams at Killian.

Liam enters the room while holding the phone, "I called 911. Someone will be here shortly. What happened?" He asks as he notices his mother on the floor and moves to go near her. Brennan shakes his head and Liam stays put understanding his father's silent request.

"Killian, come with me." Liam urged.

Not long after, the Sheriff escorts Killian out of his home to the car. Outside the neighbors surround the yellow tape. The body covered on the gurney follows not far behind.

Emma stands next to her parents and without a second thought she rushes to the car. He is looking out of the cracked window.

"Killian, what happened?" she asks softly.

"She's real. I peeked." That's all Killian says before Emma is rushed away from the vehicle and her friend.

Emma stood dumbfounded as she saw her best friend being taken away.

Months later, without any plausible explanation for the death of Alice Jones, Killian was sent to a mental hospital for evaluation after mistaken speculations that he killed his mother. No one believed his story that someone else had been in the house when Alice Jones died.

Liam and Brennan argued long after Alice's death. Brennan's anger towards his youngest would not disappear.

"Father, when is Killian coming home?" Liam waited for a response that never came. "Okay, when are we going to visit Killian?" Liam asked impatiently. "Father, Killian loved mum, you do know he would never hurt her don't you?"

Brennan stood silent avoiding eye contact with his son.

Liam stormed off. The family was broken, with his mum and little brother gone it was simply a shell. But unlike his father, he will not abandon Killian. His mum wouldn't want him too.

Brennan stood still as he heard the front door slam.

What Liam doesn't know is that he has relinquished his rights to Killian. He cannot look at his son without seeing the image of his beloved Alice, scalded, scarred and bloody.

Liam and his father fought over Killian too often. Their once-close relationship now completely destroyed. It was reduced to door slams and heated arguments.

Liam visited Killian as often as he could. Always making excuses for their father, but he knew he wasn't fooling Killian. He promised him that he would get him out of that horrible place.

"I swear little brother, I will bring you home soon." Liam's promise sealed with a warm smile.

Months passed, and Liam kept visiting Killian as often as possible at the awful juvenile facility. Only in Storybrooke, frozen in a bygone era, would a child be thrown into a mental hospital, but that was Killian's tragic fate. Killian had stopped asking about their father.

"I'm looking for work, so I can support us." Liam explained, "you are a growing boy after all, and I need to be able to feed you." Liam's wink lightened the mood.

Liam's 18th birthday was fast approaching, and he has shared his plan to join the Navy with his friend Robin and Killian. He knew his father was going to flip when he found out. He wanted him to follow in his footsteps. To someday helm the family business, Jones Jewel Shipping. All Liam knows is that he wants to get his brother back.

In an effort not to lose too much time, he wanted to be emancipated from his father. If Brennan Jones was able to give up on one son without a problem, it should be as easy to lose the other.

Liam gave up on his dreams, dropped out of high school, and settled for a job at a small boating company, Treasure Island Ferries, as a deckhand.

On what would have been a routine trip along the coast, a mechanical failure caused a fire and it resulted in an accident. Liam was one of the casualties. John Silver the owner was quickly made responsible. He had chosen to use subpar parts, and he had faced the grieving wrath of Brennan Jones. Treasure Island Ferries had quickly been disassembled under pressure of the elder Jones.

Maybe it had been an unrealistic dream of his to be rescued by his brother. The visits stopped, and on a rare moment of generosity from his father, Killian was informed of his brother's death. That same day he was shipped off to foster care. After that, he bounced around from home to home. No one wanted to deal with a kid with night terrors and anxiety.

Eventually, he grew up alone and anti-social. At first, he had tried to stay in touch with Emma. He would write to her from wherever he was. They started to lose touch little by little. Killian felt darkness follow him, and he wanted to keep the one person that still mattered to him safe and away from the dark cloud that surrounded him.

It was his fault his mother died, and he lost his brother not long after. The moment Alice Jones died was the moment his father decided he only had one son.

Years later, Killian was still terrorized by the encounter with Hester and it showed. His apartment had dozens of high powered flashlights, and it was rigged with motion detectors. His many meds spilled on the counter. They treated everything from sleep disorder, anxiety, and depression.

He was able to find the closest thing to family in his boss, Dakkar Nemo, owner of Nautilus Security. His coworkers thought of him as eccentric and slightly paranoid. Killian had become a specialist in home security. He wanted to protect families since he had failed at protecting his own.

On the anniversary of his mother's death, Killian Jones was drowning his heartbreak with rum. His brother should be with him. His mother should be with them. He should have been brave and faced whatever monster lurked that night. He didn't even feel the tears pour down his stubbled cheeks. Some days he would stare in the mirror noticing little things that he inherited from his mother or similarities he shared with his brother. He felt connected to them in those rare moments.

His phone kept ringing nonstop. "Bloody hell, take the hint" he slurred. There was finally silence. "About bloody time." Then the phone started ringing once again. He lost his patience and answered without looking at the caller id, "Oi, it's my bloody day off, I said not to bother me, Mr. Smee." He ended his tirade.

"Uhm, yeah. This is Emma, remember me?" The line went silent for what felt like an eternity.

He hissed, "sorry about that lass, I thought you were someone else. How did you find me?"

"It's what I do, I find people. I know we've been out of touch, but I was hoping for old time's sake that you could help me."

"Help you with what?" He scratched behind his ear.

Emma cleared her throat, "I don't know if you remember, but my mom was pregnant when you-" she hesitated, "when you went away." even to her ears that sounded awful, but she waited for his response.

He scoffed, "It's not like I went on holiday Emma. I uh, was taken away from what was left of my family."

"I know Killian, I was there," she sniffled, "you were taken away from me too. I lost my best friend."

The silence was back.

Emma's small voice was barely audible. "I know it can't be easy to talk about it, but - "

"Then let's not, shall we?"

"Killian, my little brother Leo, he saw her too, and my parents think he is having night terrors. He sleeps with his room light on. Please, help him. Help me."

Killian stayed quiet.

Emma decided to continue, "I know we aren't close. I know I have no right to ask for your help. I know it's selfish of me to. I just can't lose him too, not the way I lost you. He is so scared. All the doctors want to do is medicate him and he is hollow. I miss my little brother."

Little brother, in that moment he can almost hear Liam's voice calling out to him. Killian closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, I don't know if I can." He disconnected the line.

Silence was what he yearned for minutes ago. Now he was suffocated by it.

The next day, Killian woke up with a hangover. The pounding of his head only worsened because of the blinding light. He still couldn't sleep in the dark. It was his cross to bear. Slowly the night before came back to him. He walked to his bathroom to get some aspirin. His eyes were still adjusting to the light. He swallowed the pills with a discarded bottle of water in his room.

He remembered - Emma. She called him. His smile was small but genuine. The memory of her voice made him miss her all over again. He used to dream of going back for her - Emma.

Last night he was a coward. He knew this. Even in the haze of his drunken memory, he was still afraid of a ghost. Liam would tell him it was bad form to let Emma's younger brother suffer the same fate he did. Deep in his mind, he knew that he needed answers. They all did.

~~~

I’m not the best tagger but here we go:

@searchingwardrobes @revanmeetra87 @let-it-raines @kmomof4 @hookedonapirate @ilovemesomekillianjones @profdanglaisstuff @snowbellewells @kymbersmith-90

[piratekingimogen]

you don’t belong here (pirate king!imogen au, pt 3)

word count: 1794

“By the time I was allowed to see him, he had gone still, his skin colorless,” Gregor said. His voice was stiff with grief. “It was too late, I thought. She had killed him. I had begged and pleaded and bargained for so long, all in vain. His thoughtlessness had cost him his life, and Carthya its beloved king.”

“And then he saw me breathe,” I muttered.

“And then I saw him breathe,” Gregor said. I groaned quietly. Under the table, Amarinda’s hand found mine, and she squeezed my fingers.

“They’ve all heard this before,” I whispered.

“Shh,” she murmured. I slouched in my seat, my gaze wandering around the council room as Gregor’s voice faded to a drone in my ears. Based on the glazed looks of the gathered regents, I wasn’t the only one tired of hearing the epic tale of Jaron’s massive failure and Gregor’s heroic rescue. Gregor was not a very inventive storyteller.

Fortunately for him, that wasn’t a requirement for stewardship. And unfortunately for me, since he was appointed steward four years ago, the convening and adjourning of council meetings were up to him. Which meant I could be here listening to him for quite some time.

Imogen hadn’t poisoned me. The bitter drink was only a sleeping draft, to keep me from figuring out her ruse until it was too late. She made a deal with Gregor to secure a literal king’s ransom from Carthya’s coffers. In exchange, we were given safe passage back to Carthya. It turned out quite neatly for the two of them: she had enough gold to satisfy even the most vengeful pirates, and he had rule of Carthya. There was no hesitation from the regents when they voted: I wasn’t fit to be king. I probably would have voted the same way in their place.

The creak of the door brought me back to the present. Nura, the newest captain of the guard, entered quietly. Gregor paused, his story, arching an eyebrow. He’d had trouble finding a suitable successor to his old position, and his irritation at this interruption didn’t bode well for Nura’s continuing employment. “Captain?”

“My lord, I need a word with you.”

“A council meeting is in progress.”

“I understand, my lord,” she said steadily. “The matter is urgent.”

He ran his fingers through his graying hair. The meeting is adjourned. The meeting is adjourned, I chanted in my head. “Very well. The meeting is adjourned.”

“Finally,” I mumbled, earning another squeeze from Amarinda. I remembered to offer her my elbow before we emerged into the cool air of the palace corridor. Behind us, Nura and Gregor spoke in low voices.

“To your chambers?” I asked.

“The library,” she corrected, nudging me in the right direction. We didn’t speak as we walked down the halls. I couldn’t ignore the long stretches of newly blank walls. Amarinda had taken charge of raising money for my ransom so it wouldn’t have to be taxed from Carthya’s poor. Tapestries and paintings from my childhood, as familiar as my parents’ faces, disappeared into the houses of nobles across the continent.

Tobias was waiting for us on a sunlit couch in the library. I caught a glimpse of botanical sketches before he closed his book, straightening to attention. “How was the council meeting?”

“Terrible,” I said, dropping onto the couch beside him. He jumped up and motioned for Amarinda to take his spot, dragging over a stool for himself.

“Gregor went into his pirate king monologue again,” Amarinda explained. Tobias made a sympathetic face.

“I don’t know why he has to whip it out over and over,” I said, leaning back. “It’s been four years! We all know what happened!”

Amarinda exchanged a look with Tobias. “That’s a good question. Why don’t you like to hear the story?”

“Because it makes me look stupid, for one thing,” I said. “And I don’t need any help with that. And the way he tells it makes it sound like he single-handedly beat Imogen away from my bleeding body. He offered her a massive bribe. That’s all.”

“How might that affect the regents’ perception of him?”

I pulled a knobby pillow into my lap and frowned at it. Amarinda was doing this more and more recently: trying to coax me towards political awareness with a trail of leading questions. It was helpful, like her reminders to behave at council meetings. It was also just a little condescending. “Well, it makes him look smarter and more capable. It reminds them of why they put him in charge.”

“And how does that help him? Why might he feel the need to reinforce his authority?” she asked. I racked my brains. “Can you think of any upcoming events…?”

I sat up, sending the throw pillow tumbling to the ground. “My coming of age!”

“That’s my thought,” Amarinda said, using her toe to pull the pillow back into arm’s reach and tucking it behind my back.

“What does he think he’s going to accomplish? Stop me from turning eighteen?”

Tobias lifted a finger. “Actually, the regents could vote to postpone your coronation if they feel that you still aren’t ready. Amarinda, if I could reach past you...” She leaned aside to let him retrieve one of the books stacked on a table beside the couch. Flipping it open, he pulled a sheet of notes from between the pages. “Reassuming the throne when you come of age was expected, but the deadline was mostly arbitrary. There’s nothing that says the regents couldn’t keep a steward until you were twenty-one, or even longer.”

“Why wouldn’t anyone tell me that sooner?” I demanded.

“It’s a long shot,” Amarinda said. “The regents are warming to you, and you’re popular with the people-- especially since you started your public audiences to hear grievances and mediate disagreements. It’s a kingly thing to do.”

“Well, I’m glad someone appreciates it,” I said flatly. “Gregor says it’s a waste of time and a security threat to boot, letting so many people into the palace every fortnight.”

“Might Gregor have his own reasons to discourage you?” she asked delicately.

“I get it, I get it,” I said, lifting my hands. “I need to be more suspicious of people’s motives. I don’t want to stop holding the audiences. I’m just--” I sighed. “I’m nervous, I guess.” I remembered clearly being thirteen years old and knowing I could do anything. I didn’t know when this doubt had seeped into me, only that it had grown worse lately. I wanted to ascend the throne and carry on my family’s legacy, but some nights I couldn’t sleep for the fear that I would ruin it all. Coming of age. The coronation. The wedding.

Amarinda took my hand, offering a soft smile. “It’s alright to be nervous, Jaron. But we’ll get through this together. You know I’m on your side.”

“I know,” I said. After a moment’s hesitation, I lifted our intertwined hands to my lips and pressed a kiss to her skin. We were getting good at this: cultivating the warmth we would need to make marriage pleasant. I was determined to be a good husband to her. It was the least I could do to repay her for the endless patience and wisdom she had shared with me.

“I need to go,” Tobias said, startling me. I’d almost forgotten he was there. “To, uh, tell Mott you’re done with the council meeting. He had something to tell you.” By the end of the sentence he sounded almost convinced, but Amarinda grabbed his sleeve and I threw out a leg to block his exit.

“No, no, stay here,” I said, laughing. “We won’t do anything else embarrassing, I promise.” His ears were pink; this was a frequent reaction when Amarinda and I displayed affection in front of him. “Mott will find us soon enough.”

As if on cue, Mott appeared in the doorway. “There you are, Jaron,” he said. “And Amarinda, what a pleasure.”

“I assume the ‘what a pleasure’ part applies to both of us,” I said, grinning. He raised his eyebrows but didn’t contradict me. “Tobias said you had news?”

“I was talking to Nura,” he said, joining us in the patch of evening sunlight streaming through one of the library windows. “Sharp as a tack, that one. She’s been suspicious of covert activities in the city since she was appointed captain of the guard.”

“She interrupted the council meeting today,” Amarinda said. “But we didn’t hear what she had to say.”

“No, I didn’t think so. Gregor hasn’t acted on her concerns, that I know of, and she seemed wary to share them even with me. But I suspect that there’ll be more disruptions as your coronation approaches.”

“Cheerful thought,” I said. “Is that all?” Mott’s mouth clamped shut. I was immediately suspicious. “There is. Does Nura know who’s causing trouble?”

He looked relieved. “No, not that she shared with me.”

“But there is something else,” I said, tilting my head.

“It’s nothing,” Tobias said quickly.

“Oh, so you know it!” I said, rounding on him. “That makes this easier. Is it about one of my regents?” I inspected his expression. He glanced nervously at Amarinda. “No… the coronation? The wedding? Hmm. Avenia? Ooh. Vargan? Trouble on the border-- no. The coast? Pirates? Are they raiding Carthya again? Or is it-- you’ve heard news of Imogen.” His eyes flickered wider and I knew I’d guessed it. “Come on, Mott. You don’t have to act like I’m going to shatter if you say Imogen’s name.”

“I guess we’re just going to pretend the screaming fits never happened,” Mott said drily.

I wrinkled my nose. “That was twice. And also a long time ago. Also, do you realize that when I’m king you’re going to have to be respectful occasionally? I’ll settle for once or twice a month.”

“Duly noted,” Mott said.

“So what did you hear about Imogen?” I asked.

Mott sighed. “I received reports that she was involved in a raid in Gelyn.”

“That’s good news,” Amarinda said. “Isn’t it? She’s far away now.”

“Yeah,” I said. She was alive, and wealthy, and very far away. Good for her. “Great news.”

“And chances are she won’t be anywhere near here in time for the coronation, so that’s one less thing to worry about,” Tobias said. I didn’t care what Imogen was up to. I had let go of our unfinished business long ago. Laid it to rest, sunk it in the sea, buried it beneath years of life without her. My nails dug into my palms.

“Excellent! Thanks for the update, Mott,” I said, forcing a smile. “Now, Tobias was just telling me something interesting about the rules of Gregor’s stewardship.”

taglist: @ascendancejaron, @phrenic-a

[taexual]

Our First and Last / Sehun x Reader

You and Sehun had kept your relationship a secret from your families for a year. Your first anniversary could have been your chance to go public with this relationship but you’ll find out that Sehun had been keeping a secret from you, too.

pairing: mafia!au – Sehun x Reader

warnings: MENTIONS OF DEATH, angst, explicit violence, strong language

words: 3.3k

ANON REQUEST: Hi! Could you do a mafia au scenario with Sehun where him and his s/o are both in the mafia and she is a tough badass who can take care of herself, but when she goes on a mission something goes horribly wrong <…>

OTHER MAFIA AUS: BTS / EXO / GOT7 / MONSTA X / SEVENTEEN

You’d have really rather run off to live on the countryside of Peru and raise llamas than admit that your mother had been right. She had told you about Sehun, a very handsome son – “and he’s a real gentleman, too!” – that her friend had and even insisted that your relationship with him would strengthen your friendship with his Mafia family, although your families were already fairly close.

“Think about it,” your mother had insisted. “We’re not allowing any Romeo and Juliet type of relationships to happen here, you know that. You’ll have to end up marrying someone from our field after all, so why not—”

“No,” was your immediate response. “I don’t want you to set me up with anyone. I want to take care of my own life and, no offense, mom, but just because you find him so perfect, doesn’t mean I will, too.”

Oh, how much she’d gloat about being right if she could see you now, waking up in Sehun’s bed on the day of your first anniversary.

You didn’t really know how it happened. Your mother kept pushing you to attend meetings with Sehun’s family and you got so sick of it that you showed up at one of the meetings slightly intoxicated. You still felt fairly sober but you really didn’t look like it as you nearly fell over the threshold upon entering the parlor. Sehun’s parents asked him to take you to an empty guest room – assuming you were just feeling sick – and that’s where it started.

Apparently, you answering all of his concerned questions with, “I’m drunk and I’m trying to avoid you,” was enough for Sehun to fall in love with you on the spot.

And there you were, a year later, with Sehun’s hand on your face and a small smile on his lips as he whispered a soft, “good morning” before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

Oh, but he wasn’t just handsome and he was so much more than just a gentleman, so, maybe, your mother wasn’t entirely right, after all. Sehun was like nothing you could have imagined.

“Morning,” you replied to him, not fighting the smile that spread on your lips, too. “Can you believe we’ve been doing this for a year?”

Sehun shook his head. “Absolutely no way. We just met yesterday.”

Normally, the sweet pillow-talk the next morning was something you tried to avoid. Sehun had a huge soft side to him – he loved rolling in the sheets and talking the whole day – but you didn’t. You had a weak spot instead: you would have done anything for him; that’s why you stayed in bed with him every morning, no matter how much you thought you hated it.

“It really doesn’t feel like it’s been a year, does it?” you wondered aloud.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “How about we celebrate it here?”

You knew he’d offer this – he did it every morning and yet, this time, indescribable longing was hidden in his voice – and you still sighed, never having learned how to let him down.

“You know I have to go,” you said softly. “I told my family I’d do this today. It’s… not a good time for us to be celebrating anything.”

The Mafia families were always at war with each other but it had gotten especially bad in the last few months, when the Choi family heir was killed during a blitz attack, and no family owned up to it. Deciding to just get their revenge on everyone, the Chois declared war on each and every family that was not their ally.

Wanting to stay out of the harm’s way, your father agreed on a secret meeting with a few representatives from the vengeful Choi family to hopefully convince them that you were on their side. You volunteered to go to this meeting on behalf of your family and, when Sehun found out about this, he – naturally – insisted to lock you up.

“You’re going out there to get killed,” he had told you then and repeated this morning. “I can’t possibly let you do this.”

“I love you,” you said, “but you don’t own me. I’m just doing my job. I’d understand if you’d have to do this.”

“Oh, so you wouldn’t try to stop me?” Sehun asked, not falling for your convincing.

“I…” you hesitated.

It was a trick question and he knew it. Of course, you would try to keep him home instead of allowing him to meet the representatives of the most dangerous Mafia family right now. But you didn’t love yourself as much as you loved him and Sehun had spent the past year trying to change that, succeeding sometimes, but failing just as often. This relationship was a lot of hard work but both of you were learning to worry about each other less. Your jobs were serious but constant anxiety about the other person’s well-being could have killed you just as well.

“I knew it,” Sehun said victoriously. “Don’t go there. It won’t bring you any good.”

“We don’t know that,” you countered. “That’s why I have to meet those people. If they pull something—well, don’t you think I can protect myself?”

“I know you can,” he said, never once showing any doubt in your abilities. You were as good as him with guns, if not better. “I just don’t want you to put yourself in a situation where any sort of protection is necessary. How many of those men are there going to be?”

“Two, I’ve been told.”

“See, you’re outnumbered. There is—”

“Don’t overthink this,” you stopped him before he could continue. “You’ll make me more nervous than I already am.”

Wrapping one of the sheets on the bed around your body, you sat up slowly. Sehun squeezed his eyes shut – his facial expression scrunched up in pain, although, you couldn’t see it because you had your back to him – and took a breath.

“If you’re nervous, then maybe it’s a sign you shouldn’t do this,” he tried again.

You shook your head, standing up from the bed and turning around to face him as soon as he opened his eyes to look at you.

“I’m always nervous,” you assured him. “But knowing that you believe in me is usually a boost to my confidence.”

You had a small smile on your face and the tight, invisible squeeze on Sehun’s heart loosened. You needed him to believe in you in order to go through with this with as little anxiety as possible. He could do that for you. He’s done that a lot of times before.

But this was different although you didn’t know it yet.

“It’d boost my confidence if we celebrated our first anniversary in bed,” he told you.

You laughed at this. “I’m sure it would. Can we celebrate it tomorrow?”

“We can. As long as we’re celebrating today as well. In fact, why don’t we spend the rest of our lives just… in bed.”

“Hm, I think my family would have some questions if I suddenly disappeared and lived the rest of my days in your bed,” you teased, hoping to lighten the atmosphere and seemingly succeeding when Sehun smiled a little.

“Maybe it’s time we told them,” he suggested then.

You almost dropped the sheet you had wrapped around yourself in surprise. “What?”

“Yeah,” Sehun shrugged. He wasn’t planning on coming out with this relationship today specifically but he was desperate for something that would distract you from going out there today. “Let’s do it tonight.”

You saw through his plan immediately. “You know I can’t do it tonight. And it’s not fair for you to play with me like that. I thought you genuinely wanted us to talk to our families about this.”

“I do,” he said. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wouldn’t have. I also think my mom can prepare a much better dinner than the restaurant you’re meeting the Choi representatives in.”

“She absolutely can,” you replied. “And I hope she will. Tomorrow.”

Sehun sighed, defeated. He sat up on the bed to try to stop you one last time with his secret weapon: sad eyes. It’s worked before so he wasn’t embarrassed about it in the slightest.

“Seriously,” he said and you groaned, understanding what he was trying to do. “Let’s announce it today. Please.”

“Sehun,” you walked back to the bed to lean in closer to him. “We’ll do it tomorrow.”

His plan was thrown off track when you closed the distance between you and kissed him on the lips gently. He felt himself shiver when you pulled away as if he’d never get to experience the sensation of your lips against his again.

Immediately, he pulled you back closer to him, kissing you again, and then exhaling, “you’re really going?”

“I have to, baby,” you said. “I’ll call you after I’m done, though, okay? If I do it fast, maybe we can make it in time for your mom’s dinner, after all.”

“Promise?” he asked, although he was the one out of the two of you who knew how pointless this promise was.

Smiling, because you would have never guessed what was coming once you were going to leave his bed, you kissed his lips again. “Promise.”

You didn’t make it to the restaurant.

In a way, perhaps you saw it coming. There was this bad, almost nauseating feeling of dread in your stomach when you parked your car two blocks away from the agreed spot. You didn’t want the Chois to see you arrive but, somehow, they were one step ahead of you and, when you opened the door of the car, – after spending fifteen minutes inside of it, bracing yourself for this and double-checking both of your guns, as well as the three knives hidden in inconspicuous places on your body, – you could already hear them.

“Thought you changed your mind,” one of the Choi representatives said to you all of a sudden, and you flinched so hard, you dropped your car keys.

Bending down to pick them up, you miscalculated just how fast the Choi men were. When you stood up and locked your car, both of the men were already in front of you, solemn smiles on their usually strict faces.

“Hello,” you said as calmly as you could but, frankly, their close proximity made your skin crawl. “I’m not late, am I?”

“Oh, no, dear,” one of the men said. “You’re right on time.”

A loud smack followed – you couldn’t describe where it came from in the moment because you weren’t expecting the man to suddenly yank your hair backwards until you hit your head into the roof of your car – and suddenly, you were battling unconsciousness as your hand immediately reached for one of your knives. Another man grabbed your hands, stopping you.

Already blacking out, you attempted to kick them, but that resulted in your fall – that they had no wish to stop and thus, you flopped gracelessly on the pavement – and, eventually, you didn’t feel anything anymore.  Somewhere in the distance, your halfway conscious mind could hear footsteps, so the Choi representatives had to be carrying you but you weren’t awake enough to open your eyes and check if it was really happening, or if that was just your imagination.

Another few hits followed. You heard yourself scream – or just thought you did – but you weren’t sure if you felt anything. One moment you thought you could feel a sharp pointy end of an undoubtedly expensive shoe hitting your stomach – and the gut-wrenching pain had to be proof that they really had kicked you – but you couldn’t be certain. You were still half-conscious and your mind was still very much buzzing from the first hit.

You couldn’t even fight back. It wasn’t as painful as it was degrading.

You thought you were dead. This – the excruciating pain, echoing voices, and loud laughter – was exactly what you imagined your death to be like, and yet something wasn’t right.

You couldn’t exactly remember what happened or tell if your eyes were open or not because it was dark no matter how many times you thought you’d blinked. Maybe you were waiting for an angel to escort you to your death, but if so, then when was the pain going to go away? And, furthermore, wasn’t pain a sign of life? Did dead people still feel pain?

You didn’t know how much time you had left to answer the existential questions – maybe this was the purgatory and you were going to spend the rest of your afterlife here, just contemplating everything – and you didn’t know how much time had passed, either, but the pain was getting worse. Slowly, second by second, you were starting to feel the aftermath of what the Choi men had done.

You may not have felt all of their kicks, but you felt their footprints on your stomach and ribs. You may not have seen them fall to their knees – in a gesture that was, usually, meant to show respect – and punch your face. They didn’t do it because they thought you haven’t suffered enough. They did it so no one would recognize you if they came looking for you.

Your face was burning so you knew they did a good job. You wanted to speak – you felt like you had to speak – but you couldn’t feel your lips. The only taste in your mouth was blood and the faint glint of skin after you finally managed to open your mouth and bring your tongue over your lips. It stung.

It tasted like blood. It felt like death.

You tried lifting your limbs and it worked for just a second before another round of cruel, bone-chilling pain sent electricity to your already tortured mind and you felt your hands drop helplessly on the pavement next to you. You couldn’t move. It hurt too much.

You tried to focus your attention on something else instead of thinking about how many broken bones you’ve had and what were your chances of actually surviving this, but it was difficult. If it wasn’t your body that hurt, it was your pride.

The Chois haven’t even bothered to kill you the proper way. They beat you and prepared to leave you out here to die like an unloved dog. Hell, even dogs had it better. You could recognize it’s a dog if you saw it.

You, on the other hand? You didn’t know if you could recognize yourself.

“Shit!”

You would have flinched at the sudden sound had your body allowed you any sort of physical reaction. It did, however, allow your eyes to finally adjust to the darkness around you enough to see a silhouette.

Finally, you thought. The Angel of Death.

“Fuck! Baby, can you hear me?”

Inhaling sharply as your brain started to hurt from your attempts to understand how was it possible that this voice sounded so familiar to you, you tried to lift your head but – after a crude and painful reminder that the Chois left no part of your body untouched by their firsts – ended up dropping it back down on the cold, wet asphalt.

Your eyes finally focused on the dark silhouette on his knees next to you and your lips formed the soundless words on their own, “Sehun.”

“Oh, thank God,” your boyfriend exhaled, gently lifting your jacket to assess the damage. You could tell that he didn’t like whatever he saw there even if he didn’t say anything. “Listen, baby, I need you to lay down on your back for me, okay? The—there’s a wound. It’s nothing horrible, but I’ll press on it so no more blood comes out, okay? It might hurt a little but please hold on until the ambulance gets here.”

He was lying. The wound was horrible if he needed to stop the bleeding.

You couldn’t reply to him, though, because you were too occupied trying to remember if you ever felt the Chois stab you. How was it possible to cause a person external bleeding without using any weapon? And if it wasn’t, then was it possible not to remember getting stabbed?

“That’s it, nice and easy,” Sehun whispered as he softly rolled you onto your back, wincing at your horrid groan of pain when he pressed his hand on the aforementioned wound. “It’s good if it hurts. That means you’ll live.”

“I don’t know how—” you started, each word coming out in a choked breath, “h-how this happened. I don’t know why.”

Sehun was biting his lip. You couldn’t see him very well because he wasn’t looking at you – and your vision blurred each time he pressed on the wound harder – but you knew him well enough to be able to tell that he was blaming himself.

“It’s my fault,” he said, confirming your thoughts. “God, baby, it’s all my fault.”

“It’s not, Sehun,” you protested, no matter how much it hurt. If you were going to die soon, you needed him to know that he had no faults. “I came here. It was my choice.”

“No, no, fuck,” he shook his head frantically, pressing into your wound a little harder but not noticing because your lungs were giving in. You couldn’t waste your last breaths moaning in pain. “You don’t understand.”

“Wh—”

“My family did this,” he spoke before you could. “We killed the Choi heir.”

Suddenly inhaling so hard, you ended up jumping forward in pain, you felt your eyes widen, “w-what?”

“It’s all my fault,” Sehun wasn’t looking at you when he talked. “Fuck, I should have tried harder to stop you—oh, God, I’m so fucking sorry.”

You couldn’t feel his tears as they hit his fingertips on your exposed wound but you saw them and, for a moment, his pain hurt so much more than yours. This must have been how love worked.

You weren’t going to contemplate life anymore, – you couldn’t, as you felt your own eyes water although you didn’t feel the tears, – you were going to spend your last moments telling him how much you loved him.

“S-Sehun, don’t. I—”

“That’s why they came after you,” he said, unable to listen to you as guilty words poured out of his mouth unstoppably. “Because of me! They must have known about us and th-they tried to kill you. All because of—fuck, baby, please don’t move.”

You hadn’t realized you’d moved. It must have been an immediate instinct – wrapping your arms around him whenever he was in pain to make it better for him. To make it hurt less for him.

“I can’t,” you whispered, your eyes losing focus and starting one last silent protest inside of your mind. You didn’t want to die without being able to look at him properly.

“Yes, you can,” Sehun disagreed, the realization what a bad state you were in hitting him with a new wave of horror. “Look at me, baby, please. I’m right here. I’m so sorry—w-where is the fucking ambulance?!”

The desperation in his voice added another stab of pain to your already tortured body and you shook your head, closing your eyes in exhaustion. “Please—”

“Don’t close your eyes, baby, look at me. Okay?” he begged, his hands now stained with your blood and his tears. “I’ll get you out of here alive if it’s the last thing I do. I’m so sorry. So so fucking sorry.”

You heard his apologies. You heard everything he said to you, even the sirens in the distance. They were coming to save you but the flaming pain warned you that they were going to be late. You were strong but you weren’t strong enough.

Then, in a last moment of clarity, you realized that, maybe, you weren’t going to die in a puddle of rain, after all. Maybe your death wasn’t going to be a pathetic, action movie cliché. Because it wasn't a puddle of rain all around you at all – it was your blood.

It had seeped into your clothes, painting them red. It had colored your skin dark pink. It had mixed with Sehun’s tears as he desperately pressed on your wound, still.

“We’ve only been together for a year,” he whispered, his voice pleading. “I swear I’ll spend our remaining ninety-nine years apologizing to you for not protecting you from something I caused myself. J-just don’t leave me. Please.”

No response came from your dry, blood-stained lips.

The ambulance was right there.

But so was death.

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