#(oh and also. fire. fire fighter. lucky student
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sotogalmo · 1 month ago
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5:26 am
Yep. No
Bye
The ideas have overtaken me
I'll reach 100 OCs, in this month— these new OCs will be biological brothers, quite similar to .. @/rockwgooglyeyes 's Dian and Faisal (colors, personality and such) but mostly and mainly inspired by Shinji Kasai and Yuki Maeda (how they are with each other, etc etc)
Chapter 4 is killing me and I'll be killing myself with these ideas
4:48 am
Been rewatching chapter 4 of SDRA2, and im
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lorddistancebarry · 3 years ago
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Forest In Chains - Chapter 1
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"500, 600, 700, 800, 900.." Garcello counts the cash in his hands after he was given the bag of money. After Tabi fell and didn’t get back up from the half-giant cutting loose and throwing him through the cage into the left most stands of the audience. After the red haze cleared. After basically running with fire and panicking the entire way. He still feels the burns and cuts on his arms, chest and face from Tabi's strikes. The bruising deciding to make itself known by the numbness hidden via his bangs on the left side of his face. The wounds just adding on in a pile especially when the reaper decided to stop fucking around and went all in... his body shivers as the pain compounds and the wind from the September season hits him while he sits on the bench waiting for the bus.
"You barely von that, child." a deep, voice spoke.
Garcello looks up and looks intrigued and surprised at who it belonged to.
"Ruv.." He noted looking up from his money and putting it away, quickly.
"You did not expect me?" He noted with a smirk,"Illegal fight, legal fight. I come to all, vatch them. Sarvente spoke of it being good move. I believe her."
The large Russian man walks over and sits down like a neighbor to Garcello on the bus stop. "But, I can go on many years speaking about her." Ruv noted,"Vhat about you, Young Smoke? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." Garcello admits,"Just.. didn't expect to get cut and burned alive like I'm a fuckin piece of meat."
"Equalizers are not to be trifled vith. As gang or as fighters in vrestling circuit." Ruv chuckles,"Go to be undefeated, An equalizer gets sent, test you. It is cycle to see if you are actually good or you are veak bitch."
"Well, was i actually good?" Garcello laughs wryly,"Cause i feel like shit."
"No, you vere lucky, you use your strength. You are shit, but vorkable shit. Trainable." Ruv critiques as he takes out his vodka flask from his jacket. "So.. you're going to train me?" Garcello asked looking up as Ruv drinks. "Vin against Agoti or Vhitty." He directs looking to Garcello stoically,"Then I teach you. I vant to see if your are vorth time."Ruv takes another drink from his flask. Garcello takes out one of his cigarettes and lights it. A green light illuminates at the end as he inhales, steam and smoke coalesces and flares outward into a glowing green, mist smoke hybrid. "I see." He nods once,"And if I am worth your time?" "I train you.break you, see vhat you.. really are. Then ve progress from there."  Ruv stated looking to Garcello with his lone, glossy eye. Almost seeming to look through Garcello and into him.Garcello shivers looking back. Friend? Enemy? "I see." He gets up as the bus is rolling up."Well for now.. I'm gonna get dinner and go home. Thanks for checking up on me." "Anytime. I do not like promising student, be jumped by Equalizer scum." Ruv chuckles with a grin. Garcello pales a bit, "Uh... what?" Ruv looks to the fellow titan with an incredulous stare,"You scraped out vin, but you also humiliated Tabi. Young Reaper vill vant revenge..." The Russian raises an eyebrow,"You did not expect that?" "But you beat some of the Equalizer's asses and you didn't get  jumped!" Garcello points out as the whir of steam leaving the bus' brakes occurs and the door's open. "That is because of grace of God and grace of throwing truck across street." Ruv laughs wryly,"Now go, child. Before you are stuck here." Garcello waves Ruv off before getting on the bus and using his bus card. A satisfied beep of payment as he moves. Knowing the timer, he sits down quickly before the bus moves with a hiss of the breaks lifting from the ground and the bus hovers, flying down the roads and over ground locked travel.He looks out the window at the night sky and at the many lights below of Funk City. Advertisements, cars, city signs, street lights. Garcello lets his mind wander at the light pollution and the sound of hover cars flying by. Its mesmerizing. Watching everything just fly, zip, and zop by. Time could pass as the colors of the city and the energy takes him in. The concept when he was young had never gotten old or changed. The colors of the world, the lifeblood of the people moving, growing and just living. This is why he and his mother had migrated here. Such a decision had to be lived through not just decided on a whim. But this.. This wholesome peace and tranquility at this time. Away from the violence, the darkness and the weight of it all... Was a very big deciding factor. "One day... they will be able to feel this way.." Garcello resolves quietly as he looks down through the window to the city below. "Feel so.. free..." He coos starting to let the pain and tiredness get to him. Starting to fall asleep on the bus and get complacent in his space... until a growling, gurgling reminder makes itself painfully known in his core. The tender flesh of wounds on his abdomen only make it worse. His body went through hell.
It wants food, it needs it. He needs it. NOW. "First.... step... free myself." he grumbles softly as pain burns in his core and it forces him out of falling asleep and dragging on. Sitting up properly and starting to search for a close enough bus stop so he doesn't just add more suffering with a long as fuck walk that only lengthens the burning. Finding one, he pulls on the wire that signals the automated system to stop. The bus stops after a bit before landing with the soft 'woosh' of steam. Getting off the bus, he walks down the streets. Looking up to keep track of his own placement on the road, looking down to light a cigarette to ease some of the pain, looking back up now to search for those heavenly golden arches. After a minute, 6 cigarettes later.. the yellow and red light beams down upon his form. At this point, a soft, barely noticeable film of red covers everything and everyone that walks by and every sensation, smell and taste is heightened. Painfully so. "Finally..." he exhales, dry air hitting a watering, near drooling maw. He walks into the restaurant with a dragging motion of his feet. Garcello looms over to the counter with barely any real patience. People move away and those that don't, go quickly about their order then move. "Hi." he stated, "I would like.. the whole left menu. Twice. Add 6 McChicken meals. Super size it..." "I-is that-that all sir?" A timid female voice asked quietly. "Yes.." he confirms. Not really looking up. "It's going to be disc-discounted. Y-you don't mind right?" She asked.As she asks that, the red film sight as it was dies down a bit. Garcello looks up from the counter. There is only one person that ever asks about discounts in his mind. He looks at the attendant at the counter and sees the fuchsia and sky blue eyes looking up and right back at him from her gaunt, modest face and shivering, small frame. "Rebecca? What are you doin' here?!" He asked actually in shock. "Um.. well.." she shrugs,"I work here. Y/N got me the job, t-they're the manager." Garcello looks on in shock. He tilts his head back with an incredulous stare. Looking for you and seeing you wave a short, polite wave as you're working with the drive through attendants to ensure chaos is handled. Garcello looks back to Rebecca. "Don’t give me a discount girl just charge me normally. I'll treat ya." He says softly. "A-are you su-sure?" "Entirely." He nods handing over 80 dollars. "You were c-close but a bit over. Your price is 72 dollars and 12 cents." "I know." He nods,"Tips. Put the change in your pocket." Rebecca looks sheepish, looking down and shivering."B-but.." "Do it." He commands sternly. Rebecca takes the money, makes exact change and keeps it immediately. Every motion is fast and shaky like an unstable roller-coaster. "T-thanks..." she murmurs shyly poking her fingers together. "When are you two off?" He asked. "In.. 30 mins.." Rebecca looks up at Garcello. Her eyes narrow and she grimaces.."I'll get an ice baggy.. and. I'm going to be frank... I have questions. And if i have questions.. Y/N is going to want answers..." Garcello grinds his teeth,"Alright. I'll wait and we'll talk." Rebecca purses her lips then exhales,"Thank you." Garcello leaves from the counter and to one of the large benches at the furthest back of the restaurant and waits. Waiting, letting time pass as he patiently sits. His core burning with hunger and primal thoughts when the mental shock subsides. The herd is curious.. tell them. "I.. don’t want them in danger..." Lies are over... tell them something... they worry. They fear. "Garcello? Are you good?" You asked concerned, "Rebecca told me about.-" "The bruise on my face. I know." Garcello says as Rebecca comes over with the food trays. "Ice bag, 3 o clock?" Rebecca offers the baggie of ice. Garcello looks to it then takes the bag, wiggles up his cap and bangs, revealing the recently closed gashes, burns and cuts on his chin and face. Your eyes widen from the sight, brow furrowing in concern. "What h-happened?" Rebecca says before you do. You see Garcello is staring at the food, half listening. Mostly tired, dragging on fumes really. "No." You say then look to Garcello,"We talk. After you finish eating. Got it?" "Yes'm"  Garcello nods once then  finally let's his brain drop being alert.Rebecca looks to you with concern, she shakes more from anxiety. "Oh.. don't worry I know." Your reassure,"But overwhelming him is the last thing on my mind. I don't think this is a simple little 'fall' like last time anyway." "You want to h-hear it fro-from his mouth." You nod once and sit down before looking to Rebecca, she nods once with a small smile. "Both of us are signed out, we wont get in trouble with higher ups for over time."She confirms just before- CRUNCH! TEAAAR! SHHRRIIP! Garcello eats like they aren't there, there is no smacking noise. Just an absence of control from tiredness and physically going through hell. Hes going through hoops with food like a functioning sponge with water, trying to replenish what was forcefully squeezed out of him. Rebecca looks to you. "I.. haven't seen him like this.. or well this bad.. Do you think hes..." "I think so." you confirm," Maybe on drugs. But regardless of whatever it is... This cant be swept under the rug. Did you call Annie?" "I-I did." Rebecca nods,"She's coming as fast as possible. I warned her to not run red lights. I was promptly cursed out in German. I responded. She hung up knowing I was right." Garcello stops eating into his 6th McChicken. The man didn't unwrap the wrapper off, the whole ass sandwich is just getting murdered with his teeth. The devouring however stops short at the mention of Annie. With bloodshot eyes, he looks to Rebecca and you. "You.. are all going to be here?" he asked and you shake your head no. "No." You respond,"But. I'm happy you have a brain in there again. Because like it or not.. you're going to tell us what we need to know." Garcello pales in the face for a moment like he saw a ghost, his heart races in terror. His pupils contract as he knows hes cornered now. There is no wiggling out like before.
"We aren't g-going to hurt you, big guy." Rebecca coos softly. "I.. i know its jus'..." Garcello starts but its hard to put words together. "You know you can't bullshit us anymore." You finish looking at the man directly in his face. Garcello looks away looking down at the scraps of paper, unwrapped or just ripped apart making a mess on the table. "Yeah.. I cant." he confirms as Annie rampages in like a crashing tsunami and yells just as loud, scaring customers out of the restaurant. "NOW WHOMST THE FUCK JUMPED GARCELLO?! I'M ABOUT TO FUCKING BEAT THEIR SHIT IN!" Annie yells, her flesh is tinting blue from the glowing blue of her veins spidering from her skin. A sign of her stress before she drinks ‘the liquid’. "You bout to calm so i can explain." Garcello says strictly, unafraid as he’s been used to seeing the entity pour our from her veins and skin. He’s more than used to being attacked as he knows it doesn't like him. But for now it has no power here. Just like his other half. "Then talk." You egg on, as Annie takes a few breathes, grabs a chair and sits in it, the back of the chair acing the table."We're all listening." Garcello bites his lips. His S/O and his best friends, the core of the herd, his herd... now are looking at him like hes wounded. Doesn't help that he is on the outside and inside... ‘Now you gone and done it, Garcy.. but now.. what do you do now?’ He asks himself in his thoughts as he takes a deep breath in. Act as you are, You are alpha. Time to be a man.
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itsbenedict · 3 years ago
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Two-Faced Jewel: Session 9
The Slaying of the Bobbledragon
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A half-elf conwoman (and the moth tasked with keeping her out of trouble) travel the Jewel in search of, uh, whatever a fashionable accessory is pointing them at. [Campaign log]
Since slaying a serial-killer dragon is a little outside the party's expertise, they're off to Cauterdale to enlist the aid of the Deathseekers' Guild! Having gotten a good night's sleep at a druid village, and not eaten, they're ready to take on, uh...
Well, some sort of very large monster that Zero kindly drew for me.
In the morning, they rather uneventfully get up and get back on the road, thanking the villagers for their hospitality. And the remainder of the trip to Cauterdale is likewise brief and uneventful, right up until the fire.
Saelhen du Fishercrown: the what Benedict I. (GM): The fire.
Yeah, the forest and the road up ahead are ablaze, sort of blocking passage. The dirt road isn't actively on fire, but the trees on both sides are, making it pretty risky to proceed. The team opts to send Oyobi up ahead to scout the situation- and pretty soon she comes back with a report. Apparently, just past the visible fireline, the forest is totally burned down- just charred stumps as far as she could see, right up to the city walls. The fire itself is just, like, 10 meters wide or so, so it's totally something they could just dash through.
It takes some Animal Handling checks to coax the giraffes through, and the ones that balk get them and their riders a little bit of chip damage from heat and smoke inhalation, but the party is pretty much able to push through to the blasted wasteland of charred tree stumps surrounding Cauterdale.
They notice a few people in strange armor in the distance, doing something near the fire- from the seemingly controlled nature of this burn and the name of the town, they conclude that those are fire squads doing this deliberately, and don't get involved. It's a fine conclusion, and the party begins walking the remaining mile to the city.
As they approach, they notice... a little ways off from the main gates, something is attacking the city walls. Guards atop the walls are manning some sort of huge harpoon guns, and they seem to have already slain several of the... whatever these things are. The remaining one, though, seems larger and more resilient than the others, continuing its assault despite the several harpoons already lodged in its flesh.
What they see is a huge reptilian monster. It's probably not a dragon- no wings, and it doesn't appear to be using a breath weapon- but it's the size of a dragon, with tiny arms, headbutting the metal walls of the town repeatedly.
Orluthe makes his Nature roll to recognize this thing- he's heard of them before. They're called "bobbledragons"- some sort of deformed mutant offshoot of true dragons, incapable of speech or flight or magic but still possessed of monstrous strength and durability.
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Luckily, the bobbledragon doesn't seem to be in between them and the main gate- the fight is far enough away that they could potentially just walk up and head into town, assuming they'll open the gates during a situation like this. Hell, they don't even need to open the gates- if the guards just drop a rope, they should be able to just climb over. That seems like a decent plan, so Saelhen and Looseleaf begin working together to draft a use of the Message spell to ask the guards to help them inside.
Then they notice that I've been moving Oyobi's token on the map in the direction of the fight.
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Oyobi, blinded by bloodlust and/or extra-credit-in-Severe-Zoology-lust, is determined to help fell the bobbledragon. Their attempts at persuasion fail, and Oyobi, undeterred, continues to charge the giant fucking T-rex that is making huge dents in the walls of a city.
As Oyobi runs for it, and as the party follows behind in hopes of stopping her from making a terrible mistake, the bobbledragon jumps and seizes one of the guards on the wall in its jaws, demonstrating its +10 4d12+7 bite attack by immediately oneshotting its victim.
Looseleaf: oh god we're all going to die. you're using the real t-rex statblock. that thing is challenge eight. it is made for a party of four level eight adventurers, so either we are all going to die here, or the guards are going to show us why they are professional fighters and we are students. Benedict I. (GM): "Shit! It can jump!" "No!" The guards seem upset.
Not promising.
Looseleaf: This thing does sufficient damage to oneshot any of us with a perfectly mediocre hit. Looseleaf right now is kind of thoroughly convinced that Oyobi is actually literally about to die. In that light, Looseleaf is going to message Oyobi again. And she is not going to get any closer. Actually, she's going to back off, put distance between herself and the monster. [Oyobi that thing is going to bite you in half get back here you are going to die.] Benedict I. (GM): Roll Persuasion! DC 20 again. -Looseleaf: 17 / PERSUASION (1)- Oyobi Yamatake: [I'M GONNA LIVE FOREVER!!!]
So... that's a bust, and Oyobi finally reaches the dragon and begins her assault. Miraculously, her flying leap hits, and she digs her sword in... for thirteen damage.
The guards return fire against the bobbledragon, and one of the harpoons catches it in the chest- but it doesn't go down, and the second harpoon- manned by just one guard, after his partner got crunched- misses. Another guard, without a cannon, throws a spear- and gets not only a critical hit, but a max damage critical hit, spearing the thing right in the eye.
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...for eleven damage, because these are ordinary CR 1/8 Guards, but still!
Saelhen tries to distract the bobbledragon so Oyobi can run and hide, but... her arrow goes wide, and Oyobi isn't interested in running and hiding anyway. The bobbledragon, targeting whatever did the most damage to it recently with its bite attack, jumps and bites the whole damn harpoon gun out of the guard tower, leaving the guards without heavy weaponry.
And then with its tail, it tries to slap the insect that just stung it in the rear.
...and rolls a 3, meaning Oyobi gracefully backflips over the attack and strikes a dramatic pose.
Looseleaf: God, she did not deserve that dodge. She got so fucking lucky there. Saelhen du Fishercrown: she really didn't Oyobi Yamatake: "When you get to Dragon Hell, tell them Oyobi Yamatake sent you!!"
Looseleaf, in the interest of communicating to Oyobi how much danger she's in, makes use of an upgrade to her Rend Spirit attack she learned while studying Lumiere's notes on pain. With Painread, she can get some feedback back from something whose spirit she disrupts, and figure out exactly how bad a shape it's in. She does so (dealing a cool 16 damage as she does), and learns how huge this thing's remaining hit point pool is, so she can tell Oyobi how unlikely she is to survive long enough to take it down.
...It, uh, it was already pretty hurt when they arrived, and it, um, has nine hit points left. And it's Oyobi's turn.
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Oyobi Yamatake: Oyobi dashes forwards, Naruto-runs up to the T-rex's throat, and does a spinning leap that slashes open its jugular. It roars, and the roar swiftly fades off as its breath escapes. Saelhen du Fishercrown: God dammit, Oyobi. Oyobi Yamatake: "YES! YES! B-S-U! B-S-U! B-S-U!" "THAT is how it's DONE!" She is jumping up and down, doing a celebratory dance, the works. "Flawlessed the boss! Hell yeah!"
Yeah, so... I had kind of been planning on her getting oneshot and laid up in the hospital, as a sort of character growth thing and also keeping her out of the way of certain events in town, but, uh... the dice... didn't exactly... share my priorities.
With the bobbledragon slain, and Oyobi doing an extremely obnoxious victory dance, the rest of the party springs into action to stabilize the guard who was used as a chew toy. Thanks to his plate armor, he hasn't lost much blood, but he's got more broken bones than not, and his prognosis wouldn't be good... if it weren't for the healer's kits Looseleaf had the foresight to buy for everyone. Saelhen stabilizes him, and Orluthe calls on his goddess to Lay On Hands to save the guard's life.
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Then there's this guy- the captain of the guard, who fought in the battle with a fancy crossbow that shot flaming bolts. He demands to know who the party is, seeming kind of annoyed that they rewarded weakness by saving the guard's life.
Benedict I. (GM): He looks down at your medical kit. "Y'know, all of my men are prepared to fight and die for our home. You really want to take away this man's glory?" The injured guard looks up. "Uh, sir, I- it's fine, actually..." "Feh." Looseleaf: This guy immediately seems like a bad boss. Saelhen du Fishercrown: Oh, he's ridiculous. Okay, that changes the tenor of this conversation somewhat! "...I apologize, sir," says Saelhen, bowing to the guard on his stretcher, "if I have diminished your victory with my carelessness."
And rather than give this guy any more of the time of day, Saelhen asks the random guard his name. (And then I have to give him one and make him a character, whoops.)
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Medd Cutter here is thankful for Saelhen's assistance saving his life, and Saelhen pledges to remember his heroism. The commander feels- by design- somewhat left out of the heroism-remembering, and declares that he is REX SCAR, and Saelhen kind of blows him off. He's not happy, but...
Captain Scar is still the sort of person who is very impressed with anyone who rolls up and kills a bobbledragon just because they felt like it, and despite Saelhen's calculated snub, tries to get buddy-buddy with the group of obviously very powerful people who just arrived. He decides to help them through customs without going through the usual processes, much to the chagrin of...
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...Long-Tongue, Cauterdale Customs and Border Inspection Officer of Cauterdale, who's very loquacious and wordy and redundantly repeats what she says in different words to phrase things differently in a somewhat unnecessary fashion for no real reason. Rex bullies his way past her, but Saelhen- as another snub, and just to be... nice? (What's her game...?), hands her the 300-page history of the de la Surplus family as collateral for a deferred border inspection.
Inside the walls, Cauterdale is a very crowded place. It's like 80% slum, choked with buildings constructed of a patchwork of scrap metal and discarded siding, without much wood to speak of. The streets are narrow and bustling, and the general vibe around the place is impatient.
The remaining guards escorting them (Rex went off someplace) inform them, when questioned, that the town indeed burns down the forest around them- since they're near the jungle, horrible dangerous things tend to come out of the trees to attack them, and their harpoon defenses are most effective when they can see their attackers coming from a mile away, with no obstructions. Looseleaf asks if bobbledragon attacks are common.
Benedict I. (GM): Another guard shakes his head. "No, that one was pretty crazy. Usually it's just the giant spiders, or the giant mosquitoes, or the mushroom demons." "We've had a few bobbledragons before, but that was like, four at once." Looseleaf: "Oh gods there's already giant spiders?!" "We're not even at- I thought this was a pine forest still!" Benedict I. (GM): "No, that's usually after it rains," Medd says. Looseleaf: Looseleaf casts Druidcraft. Please tell me it's not going to rain. Benedict I. (GM): Nope! Clear skies for now. "Whoa, cool." Looseleaf:"Thank the gods of sea and sky and weather and everything even tangentially related to weather," she says. "No rain." "I hope it never rains, ever again." Benedict I. (GM): "Haha, better stay away from..." "Wait, where are you headed?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "The rainforest," adds Saelhen, mildly. Looseleaf: "Ttttthunderbrush, and yes I know that place is crawling with spiders NOERU SHUT UP,"
Then Looseleaf asks about what they're there for- the Deathseekers' Guild. Unfortunately, the guards tell them that the Deathseekers... probably still exist, but they're like, a weird secret club of old people who think they're too cool to join the guard. They give them a couple leads- apparently the Temple of Andra keeps tabs on them, and also a guard by the name of Mags was the last to see them as they were recently seen leaving the city.
The team splits up- Looseleaf and Orluthe head for the temple, and Oyobi and Saelhen head for the guardhouse to talk to Mags. (Vayen... is still gone, after vanishing as soon as the bobbledragon fight started.) The latter group does their thing next session, so...
After dropping off their rental giraffes, they head inside to meet...
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This guy, working the reception desk. He seems to be made of rock, and when he talks he rumbles.
As Looseleaf explains their dilemma and their need for Deathseekers, this guy takes a keen interest in their plight. He's very "hmmmm, iiiiiinteresting, oh i see, you don't say?" about the whole thing, making a very normal interaction seem as ominous as possible.
He tells her that the Deathseekers, to his knowledge, should be back in the city from their unspecified errand inside two days, and offers to take a message.
Looseleaf: "I don't suppose they're looking for a green dragon, are they?" Benedict I. (GM): This guy's smile keeps getting wider. It's kind of creepy. "Hm? What makes you say that?"
As she explains about the dragon, he offers her and Orluthe a candy from a bowl on the desk. After some hemming and hawing out-of-character because the creepy rock man is offering you suspicious candy, they eventually opt to have some, because really, Looseleaf isn't suspicious of this guy. Hers is lemon-flavored. It's tasty.
Then, as she describes the empty tower with the corpse of the torture wizard in it, this guy's demeanor changes suddenly from "creepy wry amusement" to "genuine concern". He tries to put on a poker face, but him having a poker face when he's until now been all creepy-friendly chewing the scenery... stands out. He gives her a strong assurance that the Deathseekers will handle this problem for her.
Benedict I. (GM): "I... thank you, for this information." Looseleaf: "You're welcome. Please, uh, make sure that the Deathseekers get this information as quickly as possible. The dragon eats a corpse a week and there's only three corpses left in the tower, there's a very real deadline on this." Benedict I. (GM): [rolling 1d20+4] (Insight) 17+4 = 21 Looseleaf: Belatedly, Looseleaf realizes she's made a mistake. Benedict I. (GM): "You say... the dragon eats three corpses a week?" "Only three corpses left in the tower?" Looseleaf: Namely: Looseleaf has no good reason to know the fact that the dragon eats a corpse a week. Since she's never met the dragon. Benedict I. (GM): "Curious information." "How did you come across it?" Looseleaf: "Uh, erm, uh." Shit.
Looseleaf opts to tell the truth about Arnie, to avoid spinning a dangerous web of lies for herself- after all, Arnie's not worth lying for. She does describe him in as sympathetic terms as she can, though, and asks this guy not to harm him if possible- she doesn't want to break her word to Arnie if she can help it.
Benedict I. (GM): He takes a moment to process this. "...Very well." "My people will be the soul of discretion." "I thank you very much for your generous contribution to the Ecumene of Understanding."
Looseleaf notices that something is wrong.
This guy is the receptionist. He's not a bishop or anything. He's not even wearing priestly vestments- just a nice suit. And he's speaking as though he's in a position of power- "my people", he says.
And after considering various possibilities, she tries something. A shot in the dark, but...
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And the way Looseleaf plays this, is... "quit acting like you don't know what I'm talking about, c'mon, the jig is up". She takes out the letter she found in Lumiere's tower and shows it off, as proof!
And this guy keeps denying it, and getting increasingly more panicked, and looking nervously over at Orluthe, and asking her to please stop, shh shh shh shh, and it's when he begs her to have a conversation with him in private please that she makes the connection. If this guy is affiliated with Lumiere, who's apparently affiliated with some sort of secret conspiracy that's affiliated with some sort of deific usurpation... he maybe doesn't want to have that conversation in front of a cleric.
Looseleaf:"Okay, Orluthe, uhm. Sorry, so," Looseleaf whispers into Orluthe's ear. "Long story short, turns out my sister, who left my village way before I did, ended up falling into some kind of magical secret society. The kind of secret society with Hal Lumiere, i.e. 'the torture wizard who came up with all those pain knives that we all got stabbed a lot with', was apparently a very active member of." Benedict I. (GM):Oh my god, um. Looseleaf: "So, uh, I'm kinda freaking out about that, right now, but if my hunches are right then I'm the sister of someone important in their organization?" Benedict I. (GM): As you start whispering, he tries to interrupt. "Please do not say things to him!" "Please let us speak in private!!" Looseleaf: Oh he's freaked out now huh. "Anyways that's why I am actually indeed going to speak, with this guy, in private," Looseleaf finishes. "And if I don't show up in a half-hour or so, then things have probably gone lopsided." "In which case you should find everyone else and tell them to, I dunno, come save me or whatever." "You got all that?" Benedict I. (GM): The rock man looks distraught. Orluthe Chokorov: "I, uh... think so? This is really... I'm not sure it's safe..."
With a good Persuasion roll, Orluthe agrees to stay behind, and the rock man leads Looseleaf into a backroom whose doors and walls seem warded heavily with some sort of abjuration magic. A secret saferoom.
The man describes the problem: the gods don't know that they exist, or didn't until Looseleaf went and told a cleric of Diamode that they existed. Clerics, in this setting, channel divinity literally- their gods come into their heads to do magic for them, meaning anything a cleric knows is something a god can know, if they care to check.
Benedict I. (GM): "Because if the next time Diamode is in that kid, if she goes looking for that memory..." "I mean, she might not. And you didn't mention anything about our aims, so she might consider it beneath her notice." "But that, right there? That was nearly game over." "And I can't just kill you, because if I did, Yomi would end me." Looseleaf: "Yeah, I'm not incredibly foolish, I haven't actually shown anybody else Yomi's letter." "Nobody knows that Lumiere was involved with... deicidal blasphemy." "That's what this is about, right? Thereabouts, in terms of sheer magnitude and hubris?" Benedict I. (GM): He sighs. "It's not like that." "At least, it's not all like that." "The Project is... fractious." "The less you know about the project, the less you're able to carelessly blurt out about the project your cleric friends, or to anyone who tries reading your mind or tricks you into a Zone of Truth..." "The safer we all are." "With as much as you know, you're already dangerous. It'd be best for us- and you- if you dropped this. Never spoke of it to anyone."
Looseleaf points out that it's good that she found the letter, because that tower was sitting abandoned for a year- anyone could've walked in and read it, since it was lying on a bookcase in the open.
This is somehow not taken as good news- when he finds out that the letter could've potentially been read by anyone, that there was a security breach for a year...
Looseleaf: "Look, my man, next time you want to send a letter, by the way, use... use some encoding." "Don't just write things in plaintext like a chump, by the gods." Benedict I. (GM): "He was supposed to burn after reading." Saelhen du Fishercrown: he's too dead for that! Benedict I. (GM): "Wait, you said it was... out in the open?" "But he's dead?" "Either he was an idiot, or... someone else opened his mail." "Except... Yomi should've hand-delivered it, so..." "...well. We'll definitely look into it."
He brings up sending for someone to do memory magic to handle the breach- but he realizes he can't have that done to Looseleaf, because Diamode would notice if someone tampered with her cleric's memories, and someone needs to still know what's up so they can keep Orluthe away from the truth. (Plus, she figures she'd notice the inconsistencies and end up sleuthing it out again.)
Looseleaf asks if Yomi is doing well, and gets... that she's intense, and powerful, and she probably thinks she's "doing well", but... he doesn't know about happy.
Lastly, he shows Looseleaf a symbol- a blank circle, with the elvish character 人 drawn underneath. The symbols of gods are typically circles with a design inside- so the meaning of this and its relationship to the nature of the Project is fairly easy to infer.
Benedict I. (GM): "If you need to prove to someone you're in the know, without blurting out a bunch of dangerous details, this is the mark." He then eats the paper and the graphite stick he used to draw it.
Next time: Saelhen and Oyobi grill the guard Mags for information on the Deathseekers, and connections are made with powerful individuals.
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bleached-d-soul · 5 years ago
Text
Bitter Chocolate: Thief of Heart
Commission for my good friend @the-wayward-arc
Emerald entered the room, her world still a blur. As she flopped on her bed, the former thief quickly exchanged a couple of messages with her teammates. Cinder was out restocking their supplies. Mercury was off doing some dumb shit as always. And Neo was busy doing whatever she always did.
Which left her alone for the rest of the day here.
She took an opportunity to get as much out of this as possible.
"Aaah!"
Emerald cried into her pillow, as the sensation of orgasm washed over her and her juices squirted all over her sheets. How many times has she brought herself to climax by now? Five? Seven? Whatever the number, it was not nearly enough.
The momentary absence of thought brought by orgasm was gone and now her head was again filled with the visions of him.
When Cinder told her to spy on their future rivals, Emerald didn't think much of that. Like any other team, they came here to win and earn some prestige for their academy. The cash prize also was great. And it's not like anyone would give them much grief over it. Studying your competition was a given when the whole Remnant would be watching.
And just like any job, Emerald did hers with the best of her ability. Mercury was studying the fighting styles of various individuals. Rough data, as was fit for his mindset. He would point out strengths, weaknesses and the way their rivals telegraphed thier movements. But Emerald? She studied something far more crucial. The minds and hearts of their competition.
From Beacon, their biggest challenge would come from teams RWBY and JNPR. The former had a solid lineup. Ruby Rose who specialized in long-range attacks and could get a decent distance with his Semblance. Her sister, a straight-up brawler, with the power to turn damage into even more brute force and fire. The Schnee heiress whose Semblance allowed her to manipulate the fighting circumstances just as effectively. And, of course, the sneaky Belladonna who was fast and slippery enough to give them some trouble.
It would take some effort and extra preparation, but they could be hanlded provided Cinder adjusted their plans according to the matches.
The other team - JNPR - would be less of a problem if taken out early. Many of students from Haven were looking out for the team. Not because of any accomplishments or rumors. But rather, simply because it was the team the Invincible Girl of Mistral was on. Half of the students were looking to make the team pay for stealing their Champion. Emerald and her team were in the other half.
The ones wanting to crush the Invincible Girl and her precious Beacon brats.
And how easy the redhead made it for Emerald.
Seriously, she might as well have worn a shirt that said, "I am crushing hard on my leader". Honestly, it was kind of pathetic. Unlike Cinder, who knew how embraced power and prestige, Nikos hid away from it. And unlike her leader, Emerald noted, Nikos had absolutely zero idea on how to get what she desired in something besides the brutal fighting tournaments.
Jaune Arc, the oblivious blonde that stole the redhead's heart, was the chink in the Invincible Girl's armor. A dumb, awkward and honestly naive chink that Emerald was not above exploiting. She needed some dirt on him and then, boom, the whole team would go down like a house of cards. But what kind of dirt could she dig up on him? It had to be something serious enough to keep him scared. But small enough to avoid any trouble with the authorities.
In the end, it all came down to the same thing that caused the downfall of any man she ever knew,
Their pride.
The boy had no reputation as a fighter or a student. So that left her with the bright idea of sneaking into the showers. Getting pics of his tiny little wiener and dangling it in front of him until he agreed to stomp all over the Nikos heart. Easy, peasy, lemon sq- Shit.
And shit it was, Emerald thought, as she stared. And stared and kept staring as both her lower and upper mouths drooled over the sight of the boy in the shower. The long and thick rod of white meat almost reaching the boy's - the man's - knees was too big to be called anything less than a fucking bitchbreaker. Her plan went poof and Emerald rushed to her room. Before she even knew, she was fingering herself to the pictures she took.
They were no good as blackmail material. Oh Gods, if Cinder found out about her failure-
Forget about Cinder, the voice of her libido hissed. How do we get ourselves a piece of that fuckmeat?
Now was not the time. She wouldn't abandon all her plans to chase after a piece of that cock.
How about a whole thing then? her lust bargained. With a soft and hungry chuckle, it added, We could easily make Cinder come around too. Just tie her up and withhold that bitchbreaker until the bitch breaks.
That was actually a good idea. Not taunting her leader but the idea of stealing Jaune away from the girl. Nikos was strong as a fighter. But as a girl? She was nothing. Yes, she was shy and quiet. Always bottling it all up and keeping it in. She would have to watch her beloved blonde get taken away and slip up. And thus the Invincible Girl would fall. And Emerald would secure herself a nice and hung boytoy for the rest of the festival.
She licked her lips and then pushed a finger inside her mouth. As she closed her eyes, Emerald allowed herself to dream. Of a wild and rough fucking. Of sucking and choking on something much thicker and harder than her finger. Of the poor little Nikos sitting by and crying as she watched the love of her life give all the passion and attention to someone like Emerald.
And with that thought, Emerald drifted away into the sweet lustful night.
BC
When Jaune came to Beacon, he had clear plans on what he wanted to do. He wanted to learn how to fight. How to become a real hero like his ancestors. Maybe get a girlfriend while he was at it, too. The first part of his dream was coming along smoothly. He was getting better at handling his weapon, at least. And, for just a brief moment, he dared hope the part of finding a girlfriend would also be a success.
"Nghh, w-wait! Pull out, please pull out, Jaune!"
Only to run into a wall on that one.
Jaune swallowed a groan and proceeded to do just that. He knew a whole army of guys who would willingly give up their arms, legs and left testicle to be in his position. One on one with someone as hot and cool as Pyrrha, her legs spread wide and open for him. And like a boy in a candy shop, he went in to dig in and indulge in his gluttonous lust.
And just like that night, three weeks ago, they didn't go further than a tip.
Seriously, he saw Pyrrha tank Nora's bombshots. How was the Invincible Girl unable to handle some softcore sex? Jaune shook his head, refusing to let his sexual frustration get better of him. Even if they kept it secret for now, Pyrrha was a wonderful girlfriend. Kind and loving. What kind of jackass would give it up just because they couldn't have sex right now?
"Sorry, Jaune," she rested her head on his shoulder. "I thought I had it this time."
"No problem , Pyr," he smiled gently and gave her a kiss on the lips. Chaste, as everything with them for now. "Just like fighting, it is just a matter of time and effort. We'll get there soon."
Pyrrha snorted, a small cute quirk of hers that she showed only to him.
"You are right. Before we know, we will make each other stronger. I will make you into a big strong huntsman," she traced her hands against his erect shaft. "And you will make me into an insatiable size queen."
Jaune blushed slightly. Even when she tried talking dirty, Pyrrha was too adorable. A small - ugly and venomous part of him - rolled its eyes at that. Cute and adorable was good for her Mistralian fanbase but it wanted more. It wanted dirty and rough fucking. No handholding bullshit or whispering diabetes-inducing nothings. That lustful and angry part of him hungered for the pussy that he could reshape after his cock. The ass that would take it all and cry for more. The mouth that could gobble his cock up and drown in his semen. He wanted-
"Sorry, Pyrrha," he said, brushing her hand away and speaking just a tiny bit colder than he intended. "I think I need to take a quick shower."
The girl blushed, fully aware what he meant. Yes, she was a good girlfriend. And she knew how much discomfort she caused her lover with her... insufficiency for now. She smiled and told him to come back soon. She might not have been able to pleasure him properly but she took small comfort in keeping the bed warm for him and cuddling with his progressively stronger body.
As the door closer behind, Pyrrha laid down and rubbed her sore pussy gently. She would get it all soon. She was sure of it.
Jaune entered the showers, barely able to restrain himself. He was lucky enough to have found this place when hiding from Cardin. A small abandoned part of Beacon that used to function as showering rooms in its earlier days. Luckily enough, still operational. And lonely enough for him to rub it all out. If you thought attending the school with hot girls in tight clothes was a godsend, you clearly were not Jaune Arc.
The water cascading down his flesh washed away the unrest and frustration. As he closed his eyes, he let his mind drift off. The weeks of having the hottest girlfriend yet being unable to be intimate with her drove Jaune back to the pornsites that he had thought he would no longer need. In the worlds of digital porn, he found the way to relieve his pent-up lust.
In, particular, he hungered for the girls with thick thighs, wide hips and bubble butts. Did he sound like a complete pervert? Yes, so what? In all those videos, watching the girls just take foot-long cocks down their wanting tight asses drove him over the edge. Alas, Pyrrha was slow to take to the traditional missionary three weeks into their relationship. How was she ever going to agree to or endure anal?
With a guttural grunt, he released his load, the thick white cream hitting the cold wall. This was good. Better, at least. He was content to stand under the shower for just a while longer though. Just enough to relax enough so that when he came back to their room, he could fall alseep as soon as possible.
"Oh."
The single sound sent shivers down his spine.
"Sorry, I didn't know someone else was here."
Jaune looked at the girl and instinctively turned away. She was not hideous or unpleasant to look at. The opposite, in fact. The exotic dark skin. The delicious white hips. And the thick thighs that begged to be worshipped. Fuck, why did someone like her have to come here?
"Hey, don't be shy," the girl chuckled and brushed her light green hair. "Nothing that I have never seen before."
She gave him an appreciative look.
"Although, yours is much bigger than the ones I saw."
He refused to speak. As the mystery girl began showering herself, Jaune went through the steps of his quick escape plan. Stream away the soaps. Run out. Never look back. Sounded easy. In fact, it was easy. But sometimes, some things that were easy and good for you were not what you wanted. Apples and other fruits were sweet and good for you.
And yet, sometimes you just wanted the chocolate. Sweet and dark, melting in your mouth. And it seemed, as his eyes refused to leave the girl's juicy glistening ass, the girl had enough chocolate for him to last a lifetime.
"Hey, blondie, can you help me wash my back, please? It's kind of hard to reach by myself."
Jaune knew what was the right thing to do. Say he was in a hurry and leave. Go back to Pyrrha and cuddle with her. But what was right and what one wanted, sadly, rarely if ever were one and the same. And Jaune, who had spent the last few weeks on edge had chpsen to do what he wanted. Plus, it was just some quick back-washing. It's not like he was cheating on Pyrrha.
"Thanks, I knew you'd help me out, Jaune."
Maybe some other day, Jaune would notice that he never gave his name to the girl. Some other day, some other scenario, he would notice that the girl's back, much like the rest of her was perfectly clean. He would notice many things were it some other day. The way her voice melted against his ears like sweet poison. The way her hand was clearly rubbing her pussy. The way she pressed herself against him. Hard.
But today, this very day, Jaune was far too busy as his hands slowly went from her back to her ass. As if he was lost in some trance, he never thought twice on that. As his hands squeezed the soft and gentle dark meat, he felt his mind going blank. Being lost to something dormant and ancient inside. The pure unadultered instinct. And Jaune, far from being the strong and commanding man he would be one day, gave in.
Turning the girl around, he paid no mind to her yelp of surprise. Or the way she smirked and her eyes burned. All he cared about was having her close and his. His fingers dug into her soft welcoming flesh. His lips crashed against hers, burning hot and wanting. Right now, Jaune was not an awkward teen who wanted to be a hero. He was a man, driven by the oldest of drives of the mankind.
Lust.
As their tongue battled for dominance, their hands wandered and explored the bodies of each other. And as Jaune was soon lost in pure lust, Emerald smirked. It was easier than she thought. She would enjoy the pride of luring the boy into her soft and beaitful trap for as long as she remained conscious enough to do so. Which was getting harder and harder as the boy quickly proved himself skilled at fanning the flames of her lust.
His strong arms showed no mercy to her ass or breasts as the blonde practically mauled them. He was lucky she was into rough play. She hated vanilla sex. Too soft. Too restrained. The real sex was the kind where you lost yourself to the animal inside you. Where such things as manners and thought were not welcome and everyone involved obeyed only their own instincts.
And Jaune was proving himself a natural at this!
She was just about to get down on her knees and inhale as much as the monster he had between his legs when suddenly he pulled away. The expression on his face was the mixture of emotions. Disbelief. Fear. Shock. Anger at himself. She turned to reach for him, only to be met with a soft apology, "I-I am sorry. This is my fauly... I- We shouldn't be doing this."
And just like that, he left. Emerald, not one to enjoy being in the dark, used her Semblance and followed him. Concealing herself from him, she eavesdropped on him calling Nikos and talking to her. From the way the two spoke, it was clear their relationship was more than a crushing girl and an oblivious boy. And it seemed the blonde wanted to make it official.
Making up for his action with me, huh? How cute.
Perhaps he thought if he made it official, she would back off. Disappear and let him and his girlfriend have a happy sweet vanilla love. And perhaps, it would work. Not because she was a secret romantic or anything of such nonsense. She simply knew when to take risks and when to fold it. And, normally, she would rather not fight someone like Nikos over a stupid boy.
But Jaune was not some stupid boy. He was a well-hung and obedient boy. And if it meant getting fucked with that monster all night long, the thief of team CRMN was more than eager to take that bet. It would take some time. It would take some effort and some planning. But she was smart. The kind of smarts you earned on the streets and carried with yourself through life.
Jaune didn't look the kind who fooled around with girls for no reason. He was no player. And when she saw him, he was busy jacking himself off to notice her watch him. Which meant that there was some trouble in paradise between the two. Clearly, not because of his size though. As gears kept turning in her head. the picture became cleaner and cleaner until there was simply no other explanation to it all.
Pyrrha Nikos, the Invincible Girl of Mistral, was a fucking pillow princess. It was quite funny, Emerald would admit. The greatest Champion of her generation and she couldn't take a dicking. The sick and twisted thought made its way into her mind. Fed by Emerald's hidden frustration and craving for power of her own, the thought grew bigger and stronger until it was a fully-formed plan.
She would not simply use Jaune to get at Pyrrha. She would make sure to break the girl and take her for herself. And obedient little Champion sounded so great. Great enough to sow the seeds of ambition and hunger within the girl's heart. Perhaps, the original plan of making Cinder kneel before her would also come to fruition given time. But for now, she had preparations to make.
And a lot of cuts to make.
BC
"I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!" Nora smiled and sung. "Renny, i kneeeeew it!"
"Yes, Nora," Ren smiled softly. "I think everybody knows it now too."
Pyrrha blushed bright red but refused to hide her face. The smile refused to go away from her lips even if she knew she looked silly with it so wide and bright. But it was real and she refused to stop smiling no matter what. Jaune must have known she was embarrassed about not pleasuring him properly. And to show her that he loved her despite that, he told her he wanted to make things official.
It was so sweet!
"Way to go, Jaune!" Yang whistled. Her smile turned foxy and she whispered dramatically, "So when are you going to get all hot and bothered with each other, hmm? Come on, don't leave me hanging!"
Now, the smile cracked a little. A painful reminder of the reason why she wanted to keep things unofficial until she could take Jaune's cock. Before she could come up with witty and good response, Jaune came to her rescue.
"Actually, we thought about waiting until after graduation," Jaune smiled. "You know, gotta keep focus on studies and training."
"Yeah," Yang grinned. "You definitely need to focus on those, Vomit Boy."
"Hey!"
As their table returned to the kind and casual exchange of words and jokes, Pyrrha couldn't help but feel content. This was everything she wanted in her life. Friends that looked at her like at any other person. A cute boyfriend that always had her back. And, of course, the peaceful and light student life.
"Ugh, talk about having no shame."
"Gotta agree with you on this one, Weiss," Yang whistled. "Even I am not that bold."
As she caught more and more whispers, Pyrrha turned towards the source of all the confusion. Walking down the mess hall, accompanied by the hordes of lewd and hungry eyes and dirty looks, Emerald wore something that must have been a violation of the dress code. It was not the casual clothes or something particularly wild. It was a Haven Academy school uniform. White shirt. Dark jacket and skirt.
The latter two being three or four sizes too small.
Her jacket couldn't even remotely hide the tight shirt the girl choose to wrap mid-way, exposing her flat stomach. Even less could be said about her skirt, since there was so little of it she might have worn nothing at all. Hell, coming in here with just panties on would at least be ridiculous and cause confusion. But wearing the skirt so short it exposed the girl's thick ass and dark lacy panties? She was definitely showing off.
She saw the boys eat her up with their eyes. Only to get smacked or slapped by their girlfriends. Afraid of the same, she looked back up at her partner. And then sighed in relief.
"Wow, Jaune, what a gentleman you are," Yang snorted as her partner refused to look back from his breakfast. "Keep this one away from the stripper over there, Pyr. Or she might eat him up."
Pyrrha felt the anger flare inside of her. Only to instantly calm down, Jaune was not like the other boys. She knew that now. Whereas the other girls had to keep their lovers on a tight leash, Jaune had her full and absolute trust. Without another word, she brought herself clother and kissed him on the cheek. So embarrassing to do this in public. But she would bare with it because she loved Jaune so much.
So much that she missed her partner's erect cock begging to be released.
BC
"Care to tell my why you dressed like a slut?"
Cinder's icy tone bothered Emerald little. Few things bothered her at all these days. Her mind was too busy with keeping to the plan.
"Just following your instructions, Cinder." At the confused stare, the thief proceeded with the well-rehearsed lie. "Some teams are more secretive than others. They have places where they train in secret outside the school hours. Most of them, though, are getting anxious and frustrated. And horny too. I just decided to make myself look easy enough to lure them to my trap."
"Heh," Mercury chuckled and nudged Neo. "She said 'trap'."
Emerald wondered if the asshole's dad removed his brain along with his legs. That would explain a lot.
"Hmm, not a tactic I would use," Cinder thought. Then smiled. "But if that means increasing our chances at victory, then you are free to do as you wish. Though try to seduce those fools outside the school hours. I had to have a very unpleasant talk with Goodwitch on keeping my team in line and upholding the school prestige. I swear to Gods, that woman needs to get properly laid."
As Cinder began to rant on how she would run a school, Emerald couldn't help but grin at the thought of Jaune fucking Goodwitch. The woman was a real hot piece of ass for her age. And the thought of her future boytoy breaking the other girls down for her was just so hot. All those white bitches would be left to drool and fingerfuck themselves while she rode Jaune like there was no tomorrow. Those bitches, of course, included Cinder, the loyalty to which Emerald was quickly losing.
As she was soon left alone, she started her now normal routine of watching the hardcore porn. Particularly, that of white guys like Jaune finding the pleasure fucking thick ebony beauties like her. And damn, did she enjoy staining her sheets with her juices. Once she was done with the videos though, she decided to make one herself. Tha scrolls were no good, because there was always a chance of that video leaking and getting her in some hot water.
The black market burners though? Those were gold.
Positioning herself in front of the camera, Emerald made sure to go extra hard at it. Her fingers were just a start. Then went the toys. The some tasteful lingerie and finally, the costumes. And throughout it all, she imagined all the possible scenarios in which she would be taken and in which she would take. As her body went through the motions of showing off for the video, Emerald's mind drifted away into the daydreaming world.
BC
"Class, pay attention," Goodbitch stood proud and haughty, despite being dressed like a complete and utter whore. Her chastity belt shone as she turned towards the class,"You will be quizzed on today's lesson next week. So you better now slack off."
The students nodded and watched as Jaune and Emerald made out on her desk. Rough and bestial, those were the only words that came to mind as they watched the resident dork and the exchange student. Many men watched in jealousy, fully aware they would never compare to Jaune. The pale pillow princesses like Weiss and Ruby were left biting their lips and fingering themselves, all too painfully aware they would never be able to handle someone like Jaune.
Only the black queens like Emerald were worthy of getting that cock. And her fellow ebony huntresses would all hunt for a piece of that action.
"As you know, women like me don't deserve something as big and thick as Master Arc's cock," Glynda winced at that, feeling the burning hatred of the fellow white bitches at her. "Which is why we must practice the proper conduct as cuckqueans. Slave Nikos, demonstrate!"
Emerald grinned. And so did Jaune as the girl he once loved crawled onto the stage before the class. A collar and a locked belt her sole pieces of clothing, the girl wasted no time or words and got onto her knees. Emerald stepped aside and allowed the girl to show where she and others belonged.
Using her tits to wipe Jaune's precum. Lubing his cock up with her saliva. Never a proper blowjob, just some licking and drooling. And as she got both of them prepared, she received the only payment a cuckquean like her deserved. A harsh slap across her cheek and across her ass by Emerald and Jaune respectively.
"Now, Slave Nikos forgot that she should have thanked them immediately," Goodbitch admonished. And Emerald knew it was all to gain some extra points with her. Whatever, she would allow the older woman humiliate herself further. "Which is why she will now be allowed to try and cum only every five months instead of the two."
Pyrrha didn't protest. Didn't even seem against it. She had long since accepted her fate.
BC
"Faster, Nikos! Faster!" Emerald yelled as she cheered the girl on. "You do wanna cum, right?"
She did. She wanted it so much. She was screaming and begging for more time. Just five more minutes. Just five fucking more minutes and she would cum! She would cum and fry her brain just a little bit more. Get lost in the haze of the lust and idiocy as she allowed her brain go dead on her. Unfortunately, despite her best efforts, she failed and the ringing of the alarm spelled her doom.
"Of, you poor little thing," Emerald grinned down at her. Without mercy, she kicked away the dildos and ripped the vibrators off her cunt. "And I even gave you another five minutes to cum. Such a waste."
She didn't. She never did. But Pyrrha knew better than argue with her. The last time she did, Emerald whipped any revolt out of her and then made her sit and watch as she indulged in everything that was once hers.
"Back into the belt, bitch. Unless we are feeling disobedient."
Emerald watched the girl whimper and pull of her belt. A true wonder of sex toy world. Strong enough to withstand huntresses. And equipped with some nice features like vibration and shocker. Not that Emerald ever allowed the girl to enjoy the former to the full. She would occasionally turn it on at the lowest setting and leave the girl like that for a week or longer.
She wouldn't turn it off until Nikos threw herself at her feet, begging to be allowed to cum.
"Jaune and I are going out to meet with Arslan and Ciel," Emerald informed. "Be sure to have our dinner ready."
And as it always went, Pyrrha would do everything perfectly. Even now, as she went from a respected and famed huntress a pathetic house slave who owned nothing to her name, she had her pride. Even as she willingly signed away everything to Jaune and Emerald, effectively becoming their property, Pyrrha did her best to satisfy her masters. Because, she believed, if she worked hard enough, one day...
One day Jaune would fuck her again.
Even as it was the tenth year he refused to give her any pleasure.
BC
"Mistress Emerald, please me! Breed me next, please!"
""No! No, no, no! Me! I am begging you, me next, please!"
"I was the first! I deserve it above you! Mistress, please, you know I have always been loyal!"
Emerald sipped her wine as she passed a row of bound girls. From Ruby to Cinder, all the girls she knew back from Beacon were here. Tied up in the Schnee Mansion, with the official owner whimpering and whining for Jaune not to leave her. One by one, she got them all under her heel. And now here she was, the former street rat in a mansion with the other girls her slaves.
And Jaune as her Husband and Master.
"Well?" Jaune asked as he hugged her from behind. "Which one gets it next, Em?"
She smiled.
"Me."
The girls cried out in despair.
Most beautiful melody to her ears.
BC
So many fantasies flooded her head, Emerald worked through each and one of them. But no matter the scenario, it all ended the same. Her at the very top of the totem pole. With other ebony huntresses sharing a very prestigious position among Jaune's harem. And the white girls doing whatever they could to earn their favor. It was a very pleasant dream. Perhaps, she would put extra effort and make it into a reality.
As she stopped the camera, she decided. She would work hard on reaching that future.
And it all began with this video.
Three hours worth of her home porn. Three hours of Emerald playing with herself. Three hours of describing all the way she would pleasure him.
Without any doubt or regret, she sent the video to the boy.
And then went back to dreaming some more.
BC
"Oh look at you, Jaune," Pyrrha cooed. "You are so hard!"
It has been three hours since Jaune got that video. The video in which the girl he met in the showers was completely naked. In which she fucked herself with dildos as big as his cock without any tears or pain. The video in which she begged to be fucked by him.
"Do you like my tits around your cock, Jaune?" Pyrrha asked softly. "They are just for you to use and fuck as much as you like. Oooh, I bet you are almost close to cumming! Don't hold back! Give it to me!"
And now all he could think of was plowing that cheeky bitch until she was nice and broken. He would fuck her pussy until no other man could ever fill her like he did. He would violate her ass until she cried and begged him to make her his. He would claim each and every one of her holes and-
"Aaaah!"
Pyrrha cried out in surprise as Jaune released his load. The thick strands of heavy white cream hit her face and her chest. But the genius girl didn't despair or even feel angry. She felt happy! So happy she barely contained a squeal. She did it! She made her boyfriend cum. Sure, with her tits only and it took her a good hour to do so but it was the results that mattered!
She was slowly getting better!
Jaune looked down at the girl, too much in love with her to tell her the truth. How he was driven to orgasm not by her lovely dirty talk or expressions. But the thoughts of fucking the ebony Emerald until she was pregnant with his child. He had no heart to tell her that he could cum just the same by jerking himself off with that video the exchange student sent him.
He didn't have the heart to do anything but lie to her.
"That was incredible, Pyrrha," he patted her head. She leaned into it. "I love you."
"Awww, I love you too!"
He watched Pyrrha go to their dorm's showers. He laid down on his bed and wondered where the hell his life was going. He loved Pyrrha. She was a great friend. Amazing girlfriend too. So why did the sex matter that much? He wasn't one of those assholes who got into relationship just to have sex, right? He wasn't. So why couldn't he be happy with what he had?
His scroll screen flared up.
A new message.
Perhaps he was too confused right now. Too busy and anxious to think the situation through. But whatever the circumstances, as soon as he read the message, he put his clothes on and left the room. As if in a haze, he found himself on the rooftop. The same place where Pyrrha trained him. Where he confessed about his admittance here. Where she confessed his love for him.
Where Emerald was sitting and waiting for him to come.
"Wow, you are fast."
"What do you want?"
The girl seemed taken aback by his cold and rude tone. But she quickly brushed it away and smiled.
"I like this angry face of yours," she said gently as she came dangerously close to him. His eyes fell towards her cleavage. She had no bra. "You should wear it more often. Gets me all wet and hot."
He couldn't push her away. No matter how much his common sense and loyalty screamed at him.
"I asked," he cleared his throat. "What do you want from me?"
"What do I want? Jaune, I think you got it wrong here," she pressed her breasts against him. His hands reached for her barely-covered ass. "It is what you want that brought you here."
She smelled of chocolate. Bitter and sweet. She smelled of dirt and sin, the heavy and addictive smell that invaded his every thought. She smelled of the broken promise and betrayal. The venomous yet sweet lie that risked it all.
"I... I don't think we should do this," he said. He was lying. But as long as he stuck to the lie, he would believe it one day too. "I don't love you. Hell, I don't even know who you are-"
"I am Emerald."
"Not my point," she chuckled. He ignored it. "The point is, I love my girlfriend. I love Pyrrha and I am not going to cheat on her, got it?"
She was smiling. Why was she smiling? Scream at him. Laugh at him. Do something so that he could forget about her and focus on his love for Pyrrha. Something that would take away the choice from him and leave him content.
"Is it cheating though?" Emerald smiled as she removed her jacket. He could have stopped her. Should've done exactly that right then. He couldn't. He didn't want to. "Tell me, Jaune, do you want Pyrrha to be happy?"
Like there was any doubt.
"I do."
"Then have sex with me."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"Oh, but it does," she took off her shoes and let them drop. Her knee-high socks fit her legs tightly. Showing off the fat of the thights in all the right places. "Do you honestly believe your relationship can last as it is? That you can just keep lying about how good her tits feel when you want to fuck her ass and cunt till she is filled with your cum? Trust me, Jaune, such noble intentions will only lead to your ruin."
She stepped closer. He stepped back.
She started unbuttoning her shirt.
"Just like there are Alphas and Betas among men, there are Alphas and Betas among us girls. Those who rule. Those who are ruled."
Jaune scoffed.
"Pyrrha could kick half the school's ass with her eyes closed."
"True, but it is not the strength that determines an Alpha. Otherwise, guys like Cardin would be running the world," she smirked. "No. What makes an Alpha is the drive. The desire. And your girlfriend, sadly, lacks it. She is too passive. She allowed her fans and agents control her entire life. And the only thing she could think of doing about it was running away. Like a coward."
Jaune glared at the girl. He refused to listen to someone talk like that about Pyrrha.
"Oh, please, don't be mad at me, I am simply trying to help."
"And how me cheating on Pyrrha will help our relationship?"
"You will be free to wait for het to bloom into a perfect woman for you," Emerald reasoned. "You may not admit it now but you are growing impatient. Frustrated with her failure. It won't be long until jerking off in the shower or getting some mediocre titfuck from her will satisfy you. And do you know what happens then, Jaune?"
She was next to him, her exposed breasts pressed against him softly.
"You will cheat on her anyway. Only unlike me, that woman will brag and lord it over her and you. You will break the poor little Pyrrha's heart. And worst of all, you won't even care about it. You will become just a player who fucks girls and leaves them because you feel like it. A complete and utter asshole."
The vision was so clear now. Jaune hated what he saw in the future. A broken promise and bond. Destroyed relationship.
Loss of trust and faith in each other.
"If you agree to my offer, I will do it all for you, Jaune," Emerald smiled as she planted a kiss on his lips. "This sweet chocolate body will be yours to enjoy. Any hole. Any position, Any sexual fantasy of yours, I will give you everything. And neither Pyrrha nor your teammates and friends will ever know."
"... They won't?"
Emerald smiled.
"Not unless you want to."
Jaune frowned.
"Why me?"
Jaune was suspicious.
"Because you have a huge cock and I want to get fucked by it."
Emerald was blunt.
"So what do you say, Jaune? Deal?"
He was quiet. The good kind of quiet. Emerald smiled as she practically heard his resolve breaking apart in the night air. She was good. She learnt it on the streets. Negotiate not from the position of power. But from the position of a friend. Make them believe you are there to help. Show how much they can benefit from following your lead. And once they see things your way, it will be easy to guide them down a darker and dirtier path.
"... Deal," Jaune whispered. "But I will choose when and where it happens."
Cute, Emerald thought, he thought he had control.
"Very well," she gave a dramatic bow. "So? Wanna get a taste right now?"
He wanted to. She could see it.
"I should get back to Pyrrha."
"Go then," she waved a hand. "Be sure to kiss her for me."
As just like that, the next step of her plan was accomplished.
She couldn't wait to go even further.
BC
"Hey, Jaune, Pyrrha here," the soft voice of his partner, recorded in the message, spoke shyly. "A-Anyway, just calling to see where you went. Text me back as soon as you can."
Emerald moaned in his ear as he kept thrusting in and out of the girl. For the first time since he started the relationship with Pyrrha, he had the chance to go all out. No whimpering or crying. No biting lips or begging to stop. He was free. Free to indulge in the lust he held back all this time.
"Keep going, Jaune!" Emerald hissed, wrapping her legs around his waist. "Keep fucking me while your girlfriend is looking for you! Oh yeah, just like that, fuck me up!"
He groaned and grunted. He obeyed and fucked her. Without restraint, enjoying the feeling of her fat ass in his hands. He squeezed her cheeks and spread them further. His fingers dug into her asshole and spread it as well. The girl yelped and Jaune shut her up with a kiss. She fought against it briefly before melting into the hot embrace. No thoughts. No doubts. Just instincts.
He could feel his cock twitch and spasm.
"On your knees."
She hopped off and kneeled. Hands behind her hand, mouth spread wide open, Emerald was the picture of a perfect slut.
He never saw anything as gorgeous.
With a loud grunt, he came. A stream of white semen shot into her mouth. The girl didn't gag or choke. She took it all with a smile. As the last bit of his load splashed against her face, Emerald smiled at him. Opening her mouth, she gave him a show of her tongue sloshing around in the bath of semen. Winking at him, she swallowed it all down in one go.
"Does Pyrrha love your cum?"
"She says she does," Jaune said honestly. "But she never really swallows it properly."
Emerald smiled.
Ths plan was coming along greatly.
BC
"Jaune, look!" Pyrrha smiled at her boyfriend, showing off her new swimsuit. "My mom sent me this adorable little thing! Do you wanna go to the swimming pool this weekend?"
"You dirty fucking slut!"
"Oh yeah... I am a dirty fucking bitch," Emerald smiled as Jaune gave her ass another slap. "You need to punish me or I will never learn better."
He was happy to give her a rough spanking. And wasn't it just unfortunate that Pyrrha fell asleep. Nora and Ren would stay there and make sure nobody took advantage of the sleeping girl. Emerald snorted at the thought. Not that anyone would find the plain white one-piece suit she wore anywhere near sexy enough. Not some random guy. And not Jaune when he saw her.
Emerald was proud of how easily she got him to follow her. With trashy slutty leopard pattern two-piece suit that barely covered her nipples and pussy, she could practically feel Jaune fuck her with his eyes.
"S-Someone might come and find us here," she whispered.
"Do you actually care about being seen?"
She smiled. He knew her so well already.
"You know that I don't."
With her Semblance, even if someone managed to get in this private room, they would never see them. Not that Jaune cared as he plowed her ass. It felt painful. Burning and addictive, the rough assfucking he gave her more than made up for him ignoring her during classes and in the hall. She could Nikos smirk at that slightly. Pfff, the stupid bitch was so confident her boyfriend was above being influenced by her looks.
So much that she missed the way he always smelled like her.
The bitter chocolate and the lie.
As he finished inside her, Emerald swooned. She liked feeling his cum inside her. It only added to the feeling of superiority she was slowly getting addicted to. The feeling she experienced every time she saw Nikos living a happy little vanilla fantasy of hers.
Eventually, Jaune went back to his friends. And Emerald saved another video of her getting fucked by Jaune.
BC
"The Vytal Tournament is starting right after the dance, Emerald. Have you got all the information on our competition?"
"Yup, filed and organized. Just like you like it."
"Excellent. You are not very talkative today, are you?"
Emerald bit back the moan and doubled her focus. Stupid Jaune. Fucking God. She loved him.
As Cinder read through the files, she was completely unaware that she was talking to mere illusion of Emerald. While the real deal was getting fucked atop the girl's bed. As the raven-haired leader went on and on how the other teams would fall and Haven would stand supreme, Jaune chuckled. It was an ugly twisted sound that got Emerald's cunt tighter and hotter.
"This Arc boy doesn't seem like much. Why pay so much attention to him in your files?"
As the fake Emerald gave the well-rehearsed answer, the real one struggled with keeping up her Semblance as Jaune doubled the strength snd the speed with which he was fucking her. Whenever Cinder turned away. her mirage would waver and distort. She opened her mouth, ready to cry out only for Jaune shove his fingers inside.
She tasted her own pussy and ass.
She was getting drunk on the taste.
"Anyway, you should focus on your training," Cinder smiled and left. "Make sure to stay in shape."
The door closed.
Emerald came with a cry.
Jaune didn't stop.
Her plan worked well. Too well, one might say. She knew how conditioning worked. And she was betting on it. With Pyrrha and his friends, Jaune would be a perfect little knight. With her, he could be the beast she knew he was hiding. And damn did it work.
"No time to relax, bitch," Jaune slapped his still erect cock across her face. "Time to continue your training."
If this kept up... It would not be her who stayed in power. As she sucked the boy off, a new thought entered her fragile lustful mind. As he played with her breasts and ass, the thought grew, As he fucked her cunt and ass, the thought grew stronger and more persistent.
As he came inside her, her mind was made up.
BC
"Woooohooooo, let's get drunk, everyone!"
"There is no alcohol! And get down from the table, Yang!"
The Vytal Festival was the tradition to celebrate the unity of four Kingdoms. But for the students here today, it was the perfect opportunity to break away from the routine of their studies and get one last breath of fresh and free air before they would start fighting in one of the most important fights of their lives. The prestige of their schools. Their reputation as future protectors of the humanity. And their personal pride as warriors. It all would rest on the way they performed.
But that was the talk for tomorrow. The worries for the day that had yet to come.
Tonight, they were here to celebrate like the young people they were.
Some drank. Some danced. Some simply had the time of theit life. And one young Champion couldn't be happier with the way her life turned out. A year ago, the tought of being somewhere where she could just be herself seemed like a dream. And now that dream was a reality. Her dream come true. Friends. Boyfriend. And a happy life.
"You were amazing, Jaune."
"Thanks, Pyrrha, you two."
She giggled like a little girl when Jaune gave her a kiss. And to think that she thought their relationship was in trouble. Silly her. Worrying over nothing. She was so lucky to have found Jaune. And tonight, she planned to show him he was right to stay with her. She would make sure he could never forget their night together. Once the dance was over, she would bring him to a special hotel room she found and paid for and then- Oooh, the things that they would do together!
Better move 'cause we've arrived
Lookin' sexy, lookin' fly
The sudden shift from the soft and slow dancing music took the whole room by the surprise, The surprise that was quickly followed up and overwhelmed by the arrival of the the girl Pyrrha has been seeing an awful lot of lately. Dressed in tight white dress that showed off her wide hips and fat ass, the girl walked with the confidence of the lioness. She cared little for whistles or stares. For envious and angry looks thrown her way. All she cared was getting to wherever she heading.
Pyrrha didn't realize until it was too late that she was coming for them.
Jaune stepped forward, his gaze hard.
"Something I may help you with, Emerald?"
He sounded so cool, Pyrrha thought. Oblivious to the way Emerald licked her lips.
"Just stand back and watch the show, stud."
Pyrrha practically frothed at her mouth as the girl kissed her boyfriend on the lips. She wanted to do something. Say something. But instead she found herself held in place by something truly ominous. She didn't dare make a scene. And so she was forced to watch.
The crowd formed around them, the alcohol and hormones running high. The beatiful black girl shaking her hips and ass in the center of it made them cheer and cry in approval. As if they were caught in some trance, the couple of cut her and the rest of the group away and pushed Jaune inside onto the single chair. Emerald looked her in the eyes and smirked.
Shaking her hips, the girl made a show of using the movement to ride her dress up until her juicy black ass was exposed for everyone to see. Ruby and Weiss covered their eyes. Yang ran off to get the teacher. Ren and Nora were comforting her. But those were the only people who appeared to be bothered by it. Instead, all the rest were practically infected with the lust.
As they watched the girl swing her ass round and round before throwing it up and down, the boys and girls around her started making out. Like the patient zero of some mysterious plague, Emerald's shaking ass and swinging hips spread lust and madness through the crowd. From then on, the foreplay was over and the girl began twerking for real.
Emerald didn't waste any time moving slow or making any more show of what she wanted. She wanted to shake her fat black ass, and that was exactly what she was going to do. Her cheeks began to clap against one another in a hypnotic rhythm, as her hips swung from side to side heavily. It was now apparent that she was not wearing any bra since the entire room could see her full tits wobble she leaned down further.
Like a little cum-hungry bimbo, Emerald straightened up suddenly as she ran her hands along the taunting countours of her body. A show for all to see, but only one man to truly enjoy. She was showing off what it would feel like to be so near her. To touch her. to handler her body so intimately.
Her booty conitnued to clap, ass cheeks rippling against each other. Soon, her bright green thong was lost within the mounds of her ass as trhe girl continued gyrating it like it had a life of its own. As the rap music banged on through the entire dance hall, all eyes were glued to the sight of Emerald twerking her fat ass right in front of him, smacking her cheeks from side to side to the rhythm of the music.
Growing cocky, she started grinding her ass on his crotch. The vibrations sent by the two fine pieces of meat smacking against him soon got the desired result. Emerald grinned, enjoying the feeling of a hot hard cock between her cheeks.
Reaching behind, Emerald made sure to give her ass a good smack. The smack that sent ripples visible through her thin dress. The smack loud enough to shake the numb and silent redhead out of stupor. Pyrrha saw red, her very being aflame. She hated this feeling. She hated the pleasant flame in her loins even more.
"GET OFF MY BOYFRIEND, YOU BITCH!"
The crowd fell silent and the music came to an abrupt stop as Pyrrha Nikos - the model student pushed the girl off and away before pulling the blonde out of the chair. She didn't blame Jaune. Her poor boyfriend must have been scared and confused so much he couldn't move. She glared at Emerald, forgetting all about appearances and hissed, "You better hope we don't fight in the matches, Sustrai."
And with that, Pyrrha dragged Jaune away. Away from crowd of horny assholes. Away from a thieving bitch. There was still time. Still enough time to make the evening theirs. Pyrrha smiled as Jaune gave her a kiss. She was looking forward to having him all to herself.
BC
"I can't believe that bitch did all of this."
"There, there, Pyr, it's alright," Jaune said soothingly. His hand brushing her hair, he did his best to make her feel better. "Honestly though, that came out of nowhere. I hope she gets her just punishment. Maybe Goodwitch will make even smack her around with her crop."
Pyrrha giggled, "Knowing the way she is, she might actually enjoy it."
"And then twerk in front of Goodwitch?"
"I would be fine with it."
As long as the girl stayed away from her knight, Pyrrha didn't care if Emerald started a freaking brothel.
"Hey, Jaune?"
"Yes, Pyrrha?"
"I... I, uh... Oh, fuck it," she latched onto his lips. A soft and warm feeling filling her very being. "I want us to go all the way tonight. I want to claim you as mine. And hope you will do the same for me."
He smiled and returned her kiss.
"Let's do this."
Under the moonlight, the two undressed each other. As their hands worked on removing the layers of clothing, their mouths were busy exploring each other. Pyrrha knew she smelled of roses and apples. Jaune's smell surprised her. He always smelled like cotton candy and fresh morning air. But as she bit gently into his neck, she caught the smell of something else entirely.
The smell of dark and bitter chocolate.
"Pyrrha, is everything alright?"
The girl shook her head. What was she thinking about anyway? Of course, he smelled like Emerald. The nasty little whore tainted him with her smell. No problem, she thought. She would simply have sex with him until he smelled of her and only her.
"Everything is perfect, Jaune."
She pushed the boy onto the back and took the position, ready to mount his amazing cock.
"Time for you to have sex with a real woman!"
Jaune grunted underneath her as her trained cunt swallowed him whole. A far cry from the ways things used to be. A hopeful song of their future love. She rode him with all her might, gyrating her ass on the top of him. Feeling every single inch of his cock fill her up. He was so huge and hard but she would bare it all for him. As she felt him thust up and into her pussy, Pyrrha couldn't help but smile all the more.
It was finally perfect.
As the things should have been.
"I bet Emerald would never be able to take your cock, Jaune."
"She could never compare."
"You are mine, Jaune! I am so happy!
The air was filled with love and passion.
With the sounds of grunts and moans.
With the smell of bitter chocolate and sweet little lies.
BC
"Jaune, fuck me from behind!" Pyrrha cried out feverishly. "I want you take me like a filthy little bitch I am!"
Emerald rolled her eyes and stuck the automatic dildo inside the stupid little cunt. The redhead swooned and moaned and panted like a bitch in heat. Though the way she acted, Emerald doubted if it was an insult to the girl or actual mongrels. The dildo the girl lost her virginity to wasn't even half the size of Jaune's cock but Nikos was far too stupid and arrogant to figure that out.
Welp, whatever worked for her.
"You are a real bitch."
"Which is why you love me."
Emerald smirked as there was no protest from Jaune. Out in the public, he would always be the same awkward wide-eyed naive idiot. But here? With her and her alone, he was someone else. A man she molded into the ultimate specimen of her tastes. Cunning enough to follow her plays. Strong enough to handle her and her sex drive. Vicious enough to make her submit to him.
And completely and hopelessly addicted to her dark fuckmeat.
Emerald gave Pyrrha another look. The girl was under heavy illusion this time. A technique of sorts Emerald developed for some deeper hypnosis. And as long as Emerald desired it, Nikos would only see, hear, smell and feel what she wanted. She was lucky Emerald was in a good mood. Like a dumb monkey, the girl was humping a fucking pillow fully confident she was getting a dicking from her beloved blonde. All the while the real deal was playing around with her ass like his favorite toy.
"Heh, okay then. Guess I should pay you back for the shit you pulled at the dance," Jaune said unzipping his pants. His thick foot-long cock fell out of its confines in all its girthy glory. "Don't expect me to go easy on you, Emerald."
Holy shit... He's even bigger than usual...! She thought her heart race a bit. The beating of her heart was nothing compared to the throbbing of her hungry cunt as she stared at the underside of his monster cock. They had fucked so much over the past few weeks but his cock looked as big, as thick and as threatening as if it would after years of neglect. Silently, Emerald promised herself that she would do her best to drain those balls and claim that cock as hers.
"Aaaah!" Nikos cried out, to Emerald's annoyance. "I am cumming, Jaune! I am cumming!"
She watched the champion of Mistral shake her hips as her pussy started squirting all over the floor. Emerald turned her nose away in digust. With a quick application of her Semblance, she pulled out a ball-gag and stuck it in the girl's mouth. As far as Nikos knew, Jaune found it in one of the drawers and used it add some spice. Nikos, like a dumb cunt she was, eagerly accepted it all.
"Now that the pest is dealt with, are you ready for a real woman to serve you?"
Jaune didn't move or say anything. Everything the girl needed was in his eyes. The command. The order. Impress him. Earn her right to be his. She gave Nikos one last look. The pathetic girl was whimpering and getting fucked by a dildo. She looked so pitiful.
Emerald loved it.
And she would make sure Jaune kept her by his side so that she could watch even more of such pathetic side of the Invincible Girl.
Falling to her knees, the girl cralwed up to him. Her dress was long discarded and now she was free to sway her hips for his pleasure. Quickly adjusting herself before him, with her palms straight on the ground and her pussy rubbing against the floor, Emerald placed her head spread her mouth wide open with lust-filled eyes. A game, she could remember, where she had to get him hard with nothing more than a glance.
As she found his previously flaccid cock press against her cheek, Emerald scored her first victory tonight. She silently asked for permission. With ass wagging and her eyes wanting, she was whimpering like a little slut. He rolled his eyes but gave his permission. Without further play, Emerald latched onto his bulging head. Sucking the tip of his cock into her gullet, she savored the bitter and salty taste of sweat and pre-cum.
Jaune groaned softly feeling the ebony beauty's hot wet mouth swallow up the head of his cock. She was sucking him off, slurping and smacking as if she was enjoying the sweetest candy her tongue ever tasted. Eager to please and desperate to be of use, he could feel her hunger for more grow. Not that he would grant it until he wanted to. Something changed in him. Changed for the better. And whatever it was, he now wished to see how far Emerald could go before giving her anything at all.
Closing her eyes, Emerald doubled her efforts on giving her man the best blowjob she could give. Having lived on the streets, she saw her fair share of whores give the men a sloppy blowjob. The hours she had spent watching all sorts of porn would also show their results now. Done with the generic stuff, she went for her some hardcore stuff.
With a cheeky glint in her eyes, the girl squeezed her lips tight around his thick head. Having it trapped with no means for escape, Emerald started bobbing her head up and down the thick girthy shaft. A small faint gasp from the blonde was all the encouragement she needed to continue on. Pushing her throat to the limits, she was slowly working it across the length of his cock. Slurping all throughout it, she felt on shame in letting the dirty cocktail of her saliva and his precum mix and drool down her mouth.
It didn't take long for her to adjust to the feeling in her throat. Even less to quicken the pace and give her man what he definitely desired. Under Jaune's grunts, her head was now bobbing up and down the full length of his monster cock. Her lips, still as tight as before, were sucking him without mercy. Emerald felt the pride swell inside her chest as Jaune started patting her like a good little bitch she was.
"Mmm~" She slurped loudly. Shamelessly as she enjoyed pushing her face into his crotch. The feeling of his full length taking all the place inside her throat was more intoxicating than any drink she ever had. "Mmm!"
She could feel it! As she quickened her pace, her heart started beating in tune. She could feel him get closer and closer to orgasm. She didn't dare stop. Didn't even think of slowing down. She wanted his cum. She wanted it! She needed it! She craved it like nothing ever before. Emerald slurped and sucked loudly and tirelessly, her tongue hungrily dragging its way all over his cock in a desperate attempt to get as much taste of him manmeat.
It tastes so good ... More... Please, Gods, above, let me taste more ...I...I want to suck him my whole life...
Fuck Cinder and her plans. Fuck Pyrrha and his friends. Fuck whatever else life would throw at her. As long as she could service Jaune for the rest of his life, she would be perfectl content with whatever came after them.
As Nikos continued to moan and rolled her tongue around, Emerald couldn't help but enjoy the feeling more. Nikos seemed to be giving a blowjob to the phantom cock. And while she was sucking and smacking on thin air, Emerald was getting all the cockmeat and cream a bitch like her needed. The melody of sucking and moaning and grunting filled the room. She looked up at Jaune, drinking in his pleased expression. Her work. This was all her work and she couldn't have anything better than his cruel smile.
"Time for your reward, Emerald. Make sure not to waste a single drop!" Jaune hissed and she braced herself. Roughly grabbing her hair, Jaune pushed his whole length inside her throat. He eyes and throat bulged out, her cunt going out of control from all the pressure. And just as Jaune released sick loads of his potent semen down her throat, the thief came all over the floor like a complete degenerate. "Someone has to clean it all up."
Emerald smirked and changed the illusion for Nikos again. She removed her ballgag and stared at the puddle of Emerald's pussy juices, "Oh, look at the wine you spilled, Jaune," the girl giggled and crawled over to the spot with a sweet little smile. "Just let me clean this up for you."
Emerald and Jaune watched Pyrrha lap up the girl's pussy juices and comment on how much she liked this wine. Emerald thought it was hilarious, briefly wondering if she would enjoy her piss as well. Jaune found it hot, evident from his quickly returning erection. Emerald growled, feeling that even when Nikos was nothing but a dumb bitch she was somehow stealing the attention away from her.
Well, that was about to change.
Making Nikos go sit in the corner and masturbate, Emerald walked over the bed. Getting on all fours, she turned away from Jaune and shook her thick fat ass in front him. She didn't care what she looked like. How little respect or pride was in her humiliating submissive posture. All that she cared about was getting that thick cock inside her.
"Haaah... Jaune? Please, Jaune?" She whimpered, letting go of any restraints. She felt his hand rubbing up against her exposed cunt. They had fucked so many times before. But she always had some semblance of control. But not anymore. And never from now. With him, she would always be at the mercy of his temper and will. She was almost ready to cum from such thoughts. "Please, I wanna make you feel good! Let me service you with my needy tight holes!
A smack across her ass made her cry out in surprise. A second one - from climaxing all over again. He continued to rain down smacks across her sensitive chocolate ass until it was more burning bright red.
The girl whimpered and panted, not quite used to this rough treatment but no less welcoming of it. As long as it came from him, she would happily bear all of it.
"Spread your ass, Emerald," Jaune hissed into her ear. She nodded and eagerly did just that, exposing her tight hole for him to see. "I must say, you taught me a lot about myself. How much I enjoy being in control. How easy it is to like something even when you know it is wrong. Tell me, Emerald, did you imagine things would be like that between us when you approached me?"
Never in her life.
"N-No, Jaune," she whimpered, embarrassed to tell him what she thought. What she expected. He already knew why she was spying on them. But she never told him what she expected from their relationship. "I thought I would be able to keep you as my personal boytoy. Fuck you when I want. How I want. Make you into my own source of stress relief."
"And now?"
"I-I know better than that," Cinder was wrong about so many things. But she did get one thing right about Emerald. She was not cut out to be the top dog. "I know that you will handle a harem better. Y- I would be happy if you let me work as your second-in-command. I would be so happy to teach the other black girls I know how great you are."
Arslan from team ABRN, The uptight cunt Ciel from Atlas. She would be so happy to get them and more as her slut sisters for Jaune.
"And white girls?" Jaune asked as he squeezed her ass tight. "What about girls like Pyrrha?"
"T-They could never satisfy you, Jaune," Emerald spoke from the heart. Seriously, who could fuck that monster cock of his like her and other ebony beauties? Not the jailbait Ruby. Or that heiress bitch Schnee. Perhaps the fat-assed Vakyrie could do something but the rest? None of them had the hips, asses or tits to compare to girls like Emerald. "So please, let me help you see just how much better the girls like me are compared to some vanilla shit these girls would give you."
He was silent.
"P-Pleas-AaaaH!" she felt his strong hands grab at her waist. His thick tip resting against her tight little asshole. She grinned at him, "So, you finally gonna give in and give me some good time, right? Go right ahead, I know you want to, Jaune. Fuck me up! Fuck my ass until I can no longer be satisfied by anyone else!"
Eyeing up her delicious black ass, Jaune chuckled. No need for him to be told twice, he rubbed Misty's pussy and ass with two thick fingers. Slowly, he pushed them inside and got all her wet and ready. Not thatr it required much time or effort from him at this point. Emerald was really strong. But she was also sneaky and would likely try and manipualte him if he left her enough of willpower to do so. Her mind was definitely not as good or solid right now as it was when they met. The girl was on the verge of breaking apart into a bunch of instincts.
It was only natural that he pushed her towards it.
"Don't cry for mercy later than, you slut," He muttered, his cocktip invading her puckered asshole without much argument. Emerald hasn't been a virgin even when she met Jaune. But those were small one-time nights and with how big and thick Jaune was... Well, she might as well have been a complete and total virgin.
Emerald slapped the bed, letting out a low loud moan. As if she was being ripped apart in the most pleasant of ways, she bit into the sheets and cried, "FuuuUUUcucking shiiiiiiit! Yes, yes, yes, YEEEEEEEES! You are ripping my ass apart! Please, don't stahp!"
She could feel her Aura fizzle and crack from the pain. Oh, once it was out, how much more painful and pleasurable it would get. The mere thought was enough to drive her even wilder. Jaune grinned as he continued to spread her ass open inch by inch. To his growing surprise, Emerald was taking it all with the same kind of love as before. Even when he was not nearly as big or ferocious as he was right now.
"Fuck, your cock is fucking best, Jaune!" she cried out deliriously. "Oh, Gods, I can feel your cock in my guts! You are so deep in my ass I can feel it in my guts!" Emerald was positively babbling now. Her words a barely coherent mess of expletives and curses. Her mind a wild hive of every single dirty thing a girl knew. His cock went deep and hard, pressing down on her innards to the point she was cumming from a simple act of breathing. That's how powerful he was. How much power he held over her. "Please, make me cuuuuuuuum!"
Jaune thrusted inside her one more time, the pressure from her ass and guts so strong and overwhelming it reached even further inside. Right towards her womb. And as Jaune continued to fuck her ass with his full length, Emerald felt like he was pounding her pussy at the same time. Her world was falling apart. Her loyalties and goals crushed into dust, all she cared for was getting Jaune to fuck her even harder. Even faster.
With a wet sticky sound, Jaune pulled out. Leaving her so hollow she couldn't bear a single moment of it. What was wrong? Was it something she did? She would make up for it if only he let her.
"You are a good bitch, Emerald."
Her heart swooned at the praise.
"Now I want you to do something for me. Do it and I will cum inside your pussy and make you my top bitch."
Anything. She ready to do anything.
"Just tell me what you want."
Jaune grinned.
"Help me tie Pyrrha up."
Emerald was quiet, taken aback by the odd request. But as she met Jaune's eyes, she realized instantly what he wanted. And just like the opportunistic sadist she was, Emerald jumped at the chance to get the girl she wanted to hurt for so long.
BC
Pyrrha was at the top of her world. Hours and hours of sex with Jaune were the kind of heaven she never imagined possible or wanted. But now that she had tasted the forbidden fruit of his body, she would never tire of the taste. His strong arms and gentle touch were all the Pyrrha needed to be happy. The whole world might have pushed her to be perfect, but as long as Jaune stayed by her side, she would happily fight through everything.
"Jeez, Pyrrha, go easy on that toy," the familiar - an unpleasantly so - voice spoke candidly. "Talk about going wild."
"Emerald," Pyrrha hissed as she covered herself with the sheet. How did she get in without her noticing? Little matter. "Leave before I make you. You know I can do that."
"Can you now though?" Emerald smiled. The kind of smile that you wore when you knew of yours victory. When you were sure of it. "Tied up like that?"
What was she talking about? Pyrrha had no time for this. Jaune was sound asleep and she refused to let him be woken up by the likes of Emerald. She moved to get up. her feet never touched the ground though. In panic, she looked at Emerald. The green-haired girl gasped in false shock, "Sorry, Nikos, I forgot something. Here, let me help you."
With the sweet smile and hungry eyes, Emerald pulled off some kind of seal from Pyrrha's wrist. The same place where she touched her during the dance. The effects of the seal being removed didn't wait for long. As if she was woken up from a dream, the world around her changed. She was no longer in warm and soft bed. Instead he was on the cold floor, her arms tied behind her back. Her legs spread apart and duck-taped. The hotel room was the same but the feeling about it was all wrong.
And then there was the smell.
The smell of bitter chocolate.
"Emerald, you bitch, what have you done?" Pyrrha raged. "Where is Jaune? If you hurt him, I swear to Gods, I will-"
"Why not let him speak for himself?"
It was only now that Pyrrha noticed that Jaune was in the same room. But something was off about him. There was no more of that bubbly puppy feeling about him. Instead he looked like a wolf. And he was hungry.
"Hey Pyrrha. Glad to have you back with us."
"Jaune..." she whispered, not at all liking how casual the blonde was with being naked. Or Emerald rubbing herself against his leg. "What is going on?"
"A confession," Jaune smiled softly as she walked up to her. His cock, erect and imposing, stood even bigger than she remembered. "The last night was Emerald's illusion. She made you think you were fucking me the entire time. In reality, while you were busy with this plastic toy," he picked up the dildo that absolutely reeked of her juices. "I was busy fucking Emerald into submission."
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no... This couldn't be true. It must have been some nightmare. A cruel prank her imagination was playing on her. She would have shut her ears but her arms were bound. And so she listened on as Jaune spoke further.
"I have been having sex with Emerald ever since we became official. I tried to ignore her. Tried to focus on what happiness we had outside the bed, but I wasn't able to do it foreve, Pyrrha. Then Emerald came along and offered to be my stress relief until you learned how to handle my cock. Until you became strong enough for me to actually fuck."
Pyrrha was openly crying at this point. It was all wrong. All of this was so messed up.
"But that day never came. Even know, if I tried to have sex with you, I doubt you would be able to handle my full length for even a few minutes before passing out," Pyrrha sobbed as she felt how worthless she was. It hurt even more as Jaune sounded absolutely disappointed in her. "Despite all of this, I still love you more than anyone else in the whole world. I want to be with you, Pyrrha. One day, I wish to marry you too."
He was cheating on her. Making a fool out of her all this time. So why was she feeling so happy about his words? Why did she feel the damn hope he would keep his word?
Why did she feel so hot?
"I was tired of living a lie. Lying to you. To our friends. To myself," Jaune brought Emerald up from her knees. "Now is the time to be honest with myself."
He gave her a kiss. The kind of kiss even her wildest fantasies didn't see. There was nothing princely or romantic about it. It was wild and savage, full of nothing but sheer mating desire. Pyrrha could have had it for herself. Would have if only she were a better woman. But she was not and now she was watching a better woman - Emerald - take her beloved away.
Why did she feel so hot?
"He loves ebony girls like me, Nikos. With our wide hips, thick thighs and juicy asses, we are the only ones who can actually handle studs like Jaune," turning the girl around, Jaune lifted her off the ground. Emerald looked positively giddy as Jaune impaled the girl on his cock. The guttural bestial cry the thief let out sent shiver down Pyrrha's spine. Why did she feel so damn hot? As Jaune began to fuck her pussy, she looked her straight in the eye, "This is what real sex is like, Nikos! This is the kind of raw fucking you should have given him! Maybe then he would never leave you for me!"
Would she ever be able to handle it?
Pyrrha doubted it.
Emerald was screaming, crying in gibberish. Fuck her up. Impregnate her. Make her cunt his personal cum tank. The flood of obscene phrases filled the room and Pyrrha watched in awe as Emerald was actually enjoying having her pussy stuffed full of all that cockmeat. Her loins burned with want. Her mouth ran dry with need. She wanted it. She couldn't have it.
All she could do was watch.
"Oh yes! Oh, fuck! Gods above, fucking hell!" Emerald cursed as she looke down at Pyrrha. "Get used to the view, Nikos! I am not letting you have anything but his scraps!"
Jaune placed her down. On all fours, staring Pyrrha straight in the face, Emerald looked like she was some otherwordly being. Panting and grunting, Jaune's enormous cock plowing her from behind, the girl cupped Pyrrha's face and smiled at her. A cruel twisted smile.
"He still loves you. You still have his heart," she hissed. It was clear she hated to say that. "But his mind and body? They are all mine now. Nghh!"
Jaune gave her a harsh slap across her ass. So hard her Aura flared up.
"You can run, Nikos. Leave the two of us alone. Leave him for me to conquer his heart. I am sure you will find yourself a nice pencil-dick who will be happy with your being easy to please," Emerald spoke sweetly, even as venom dripped off of every word. "Or you can stay with us. Fight me for him. Try and get on my level. But I promise you, if you do that, I will not let you go easily."
Pyrrha whimpered. She was stronger than Emerald so why was she shaking so much?
And feeling so hot from the thought of losing to her?
"Aaaah!" Emerald cried out as Jaune pumped one final load inside her. Getting on her feet, Emerald proudly showed off the thick semen oozing out of her fucked-up cunt. "See this? This is what I earned. And this," she pointed at Pyrrha's throbbing swollen cunt. "is what you earned. So what shall it be, Pyrrha? Will you stand and fight for Jaune? Or would you rather give him up here and now?"
"N-Never!"
She refused to give up.
"Whatever you've got, bring it on!" Pyrrha glared. "I will make myself worthy of Jaune's cock. And then you will never get fucked by him again."
Emerald chuckled. Jaune did as well. Pyrrha's heart sank, her bravado now having a hole in it.
"Very well, Pyrrha. That's one of the reasons I love you so much," Jaune gave her a soft kiss. She leaned into it, grasping on the feeling like a life jacket. "But until you are actually able to handle me, you are going to be our cuckquean."
C-Cuckquean? What was that?
"W-What will I be?"
"Cuckquean," Emerald spelled out as if Pyrrha was an idiot. "A beta bitch. A denial slut. A no-touch no-fuck servant that I get to order around. Here, let me demonstrate t you!"
With a sick grin, Emerald pulled on Pyrrha's nipples. Giving her no time to recover from the shock, Emerald gave her a couple of slaps across her face before finally pushing her onto her back. With a laugh, the thief stepped on Pyrrha's swollen red cunt and pressed.
"Stop! Please, it hurts!"
"Exactly," Emerald smiled. "And physical pain is only a part of it. You will serve us, Nikos. Whatever I say, you will do. If I tell you walk through Beacon naked, you will do that. If I tell you to eat only whatever I give you, you will do that. No matter how humiliating and degrading it is, you will do what I say. And you will keep doing it until Jaune promotes you from a Cuckquean Cunt to his Bitch. Unless you want to back off now and stop bothering us."
The picture was grim, Pyrrha trembled. Having Emerald given so much power was terrfiying.
But she was Pyrrha Nikos. And she didn't give up.
"I will do it," she hung her head in shame. "And when Jaune and I are married, I will keep you as a dog, Emerald."
Emerald chuckled.
"Sure thing, Nikos. Give it your best shot." she pressed herself against Jaune. Wiping some of his semen from her pussy, Emerald smeared it all over Pyrrha's face. "Until then, enjoy the show. And your snack too."
Tied up and unable to move, Pyrrha was forced to watch the love of her life fuck the thief she considered a nuisance at best. And like an obedient cuck, Pyrrha ept the small bit of cum in her mouth. Enjoying whatever pleasure the small portion of it gave her.
Jaune held the two of them close as Emerald sucked him off. Pyrrha watched closely as the girl swallowed down his whole length. Jaune threw the two of them onto the bed, first her then Emerald on the top of hers. Pyrrha whimpered and sobbed as she felt Jaune fuck Emerald in her ass and pussy, She felt the pain doubly since she could tell just how intense it was. How much she wanted it to be her who was getting fucked.
Come the morning, Pyrrha paid for the room and walked beside the two. They went back to the dorm and Emerald gave Pyrrha another humiliating gift. Her own thong, drenched in Jaune's cum. The sight of it made her happy though and Pyrrha humbly accepted the gift. That night was the last night she could pleasure herself. And so she did.
With Emerald's thong held between her teeth, the leftover semen in her mouth, Pyrrrha was masturbating. Drowning in her lustful fantasies, the girl imagined where her life would go now. She imagined so many different scenarios. So many ways she would find her way back into Jaune's heart and embrace.
But no matter how much she thought of the future, it all remained the same. She would always be the pathetic whimpering cuckquean who begged and pissed herself for her betters' amusement. And Emerald would always be the harsh and cruel Mistress that Pyrrha depended on to get any semblance of pleasure.
"Aaaaaaaaah!"
She came, shamelessly staining her cold sheets. Where was Jaune, she wondered briefly. Her scroll screen flared up. A picture of Emerald gorging herself on Jaune's cock. Her loins burned again. The fantasy changed in her head. Now she was kneeling beside the two. Panting and begging for a drop of Jaune's cum. She was not given any. Not directly at leasy. Like a good little doggy, she lapped up whatever fell on the carpet.
"Aaaaaaaaah!"
Pyrrha came again.
The fantasy shifted. They were getting married but Pyrrha was still locked in a chastity belt after all these years. And once they came to their room, she would be allowed to hump the pillow while Jaune and Emerald enjoyed their night.
"Aaaaaaaaah!"
Pyrrha came again.
The fantasy shifted once more. She was Pyrrha Arc. A wife, a mother and a slave. Her daughter never knew she was her real mother. In her eyes, Pyrrha Nikos was just the maid of daddy and mommy, Jaune and Emerald. Her being impregnated by Jaune was her anniversary gift. She wondered if she could beg herself another one this year. Maybe if she acted like a really good dog, Emerald would give it to her.
"Aaaaaaaaah!"
Pyrrha came again.
And again and again and again. Thousands of fantasies. All with the same outcome.
But one that, with each orgasm, Pyrrha was slowly coming to accept as her fate.
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wu-sisyphus-gang · 4 years ago
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Motion Sickness: 5.2 Sector 7
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“Alright kid, just follow my lead and stay quiet unless someone asks you something.”
“Got it.”
“Don’t screw this up for us.”
“Are you done?”
Dust crystals, weapons, and all other kinds of malicious paraphernalia were sold in the lower levels of Mistral. Beneath wired poles and under shady market stalls you could evidently buy pretty much whatever you wanted. In broad daylight. Probably pretty hard to enforce law when everyone was breaking it. The entire place was pretty openly criminal with people who were wearing masks purchasing put together bombs in full view of the sun. Or what counted for sunlight down here.
We followed a spider’s web marking on a wall into a dimly lit bar in which the only barrier between the inside and the elements was a flap with a Mistrali Flag on it. As though that was fooling anybody. It didn’t fool me and I colored myself as someone who was pretty easily fooled.
I took a look around the inside and noted several dozen people in similar purple drab. As if that weren’t enough, many people inside had that same spider web symbol tattooed to their forearms, bicep, or even their neck. I knew enough about gangs to know one when I saw one being so open.
I wheeled Qrow in.
“That's far enough now sweetheart.”
A woman sat alone at a table with two of what were clearly bodyguards on either side of her. I stopped pushing Qrow’s chair and held up my hands in surrender. I wasn’t about to start anything, even if some of the people we had passed were clearly on something and had glints in their eyes that made me want to draw my weapon.
Ether, I hoped, but perhaps even Hyper was on the table. Literally on the table as a dude did a line of white powder nearby.
I made no move towards my weapon anyways because it wasn’t like I could defend Qrow or myself in a tight space like this. We were very outnumbered and probably outgunned and entirely at the mercy of our hosts. I like to believe that I was alright in a fight, which was to say maybe I could take the lady’s two body guards if it was just the three of us and I managed something clever. This was something different. We were surrounded and they were in front of us, behind us, to either side, and, just to make things worse, above us. The place had two floors that I could see.
“Well if it isn’t Qrow Branwen. It's been a long time and you have gotten much shorter.”
“You know, you loose one fucking fight.”
“And who’s this? Some new protege or apprentice?”
The bodyguards came up to search me and I cooperatively handed over my sword and shield to the girl who staggered under its weight for a second before reclaiming her balance. “Jaune Arc.” I introduced myself as the dude patted me down. He came away with some fire crystals and an Atlas army knife. Nothing crazy for a place like this; I mean probably. I didn’t frequently search people who went to bars like this one.
“Didn’t answer my question, hun.” She probed. Jabbing at me with the spoon she held in a pudgy hand.
“He’s teaching me, yes ma’am,” I erred on polite caution.
“Good boy. You can put those arms down.” I did as she directed. “Now I’m sure you’re not here just to catch up with me, now are you?”
“I’m not no.” Qrow wiggled his stumps. I almost laughed. “I need a set of prosthetics, Atlesian or Valean or good enough for hunters.”
Would his prosthetics transform with him or-
“It’ll cost you.”
I’m sure it’ll be fine. Its magic so why not? I couldn’t think of a good reason why his new legs wouldn’t transform with him and Ozpin hadn’t said anything. Not that that meant anything.
“We don’t have much Lien.”
“Oh Mr. Branwen. Lien is how I run my business,” the spider said from her seat. She managed to glare down at Qrow still with a soft smile.
“You also run it with favors and errands.”
“A favor from the great Qrow Branwen.” She took a long drag of either tobacco or perhaps even some greens. It smelled most like tobacco, I think, though. “It would mean a lot more if he was capable of walking,” she jabbed easily. Which I think was perfectly fair.
“You provide the legs and I’ll do the walking. And if you don’t like that then the kid isn’t half bad in a fight either.”
“Hmm.” She pondered. “Okay.” She said with a sly smile. The dude handed me back my switchblade and crystals and the girl handed back my harness with my bigger blades sheathed as though that was some well rehearsed signal.
"I'll need real surgery." Qrow admitted begrudgingly. "Not those ones you just attach and pull off. I'll need them grafted on."
"Well that'll just cost you extra. Two favors.”
“Lets talk it over. Hey kid?”
“Hm?” I wondered.
“Why don’t you wait at the bar while we talk. You’re making me nervous just standing behind me.”
“Alright. Sure.” Why not?
I mosied up to the bar. The bartender in purple had a kukuri and some light armor. He didn’t card me or anything, just looked across the rosy counter towards me. “Whisky on the rocks.” Keep it familiar, keep it simple, keep it dumb, or else you’ll end up under some ganglord’s thumb.
My drink was slid towards me in a crystal patterned glass that I examined. It seemed clean enough. I had a sip. It was smooth. I had another sip.
“Who’s this Melanie?” A voice purred from behind me. A girl’s voice. I ignored it because ignoring women was my MO.
“I don’t know Miltiades, some new huntsman.”
“He’s decent looking.”
“Tall, too.”
I looked around. There were two girls looking at me. They had dark hair and pale green eyes. I looked them up and down. “Are you talking to me?” I wondered. It went against my MO. Explicitly, even. One had a pair of silver blades attached to white boots to match the overall assemble of a white dress. The other had red claws strapped to her back. The red claws matched a tighter red dress than the girl in white who could only be a sister. Maybe a cousin if I was stretching.
They looked damn near identical, though, so I was really stretching.
“Who else would we even be talking to?” I looked around, the girl in white made a fair point. There was nobody even close to me. They were to either side of me out in the open.
“So what brings a huntsman like you down here?” The girl in red asked.
“I’m with him.” I pointed to Qrow, not seeing any point to lying. I pushed him into this place afterall. Out in the open. “Need to get him back on his feet but we’re a little short on cash.”
“And what is he to you?” The girl in red asked.
“He’s not much to be completely and totally honest. Family of a friend,” I answered vaguely. “I didn’t catch your names.”
“I’m Melanie Malachite.” The girl in white introduced herself. “And this is-”
“Miltia.” The other finished. Malachite, like the woman in charge. Well I'd better be polite and not fuck things up. That was all the advice I’d been given.
“Well, can I buy the two of you a drink? Or drinks, rather?” I doubted they would be sharing.
Instead they just giggled a little at me. Cute girls laughing at me was nothing new though and after a few years it meant surprisingly little. Girls like this tended to laugh like that. It would be better for my sanity if I didn’t take it personally.
“I thought you were short on cash.” Miltia returned, hiding her smile behind a hand and failing. Probably intentionally.
“Short on cash for a pair of legs. Not for three drinks.” I lifted my glass to my lips. It was already empty and the glass clinked around in no liquid. “Make that four drinks. What’ll you two have?”
“A white russian,” Miltia said.
“A hurricane.”
I ordered for them and another whiskey for me. Then I slid the red drink to the girl in white and the white drink to the girl in red. I was sixty percent sure they were fucking with me. Somehow. And it was totally working. They were messing with my head completely and totally and probably for kicks.
But they took drinks from their cocktails with a familiarity that threw me off. Maybe they did drink these exact drinks a bit. I nursed my own, making sure to take it slower on my second glass of something straight.
The last thing Qrow and I needed was for me to be wasted.
"So where are you from?" Melanie pulled back from her red drink and bounced out the words. I hope she wasn't clumsy because that drink would stain like a nightmare on her white clothes.
"Vale. I, uh, I used to go to Beacon." I took my weapons off my back and set them on the stool to my left. The stool on my right was occupied by Miltia.
"We're from Vale too." Miltia said.
"Not really the biggest fans of Beacon students but we can make an exception."
"Lucky me." I slipped. "Well the 'ex-Beacon student' is kinda important anyways. I left that place behind after the attack."
"We left with the collapse as well." Melanie added.
"Decided it just wasn't safe enough." Miltia clarified.
"Makes sense. I was out of there in a hurry myself. How did you two get here then?"
"Airship." Miltia informed me.
"Our parents own several so we just flew." They were sisters, then.
"Must have been nice," I let myself grumble. The thought of my feet aching from walking ached.
"Sounds like there's a story to how you got here." Miltia pressed.
"I walked, rode horses, and took a train. Just extra steps comparatively. More monsters, you know?"
Melanie blinked. “You ride horses?”
“Well aren’t you a regular old fashioned knight.” She eyed me in my thick armor. She may be reading into my look and figuring some other things. They were all wrong but she was figuring some things.
"I had to learn on the way. It's not like that."
"Did Qrow Branwen teach you?"
"You two know Qrow?"
"We know about Qrow." Miltia corrected.
"Some hunters are famous like that."
"Him and his sister are both well known but there are others too."
"Winter Schnee, Glynda Goodwitch, General Ironwood." Melanie counted.
"Well Qrow didn't teach me that but I suppose he is mentoring me in other things."
"Like what?" Miltia asked.
"Like being a better fighter, I guess. He knows a lot about how to kill things, and not much else to be on the level with you." I reached the bottom of my drink and debated with myself before ordering another one. I was on the heavy side anyways, so it should be fine? "I really try not to take his advice on other things."
“You’re a heavy drinker.” Melanie watched me order more whiskey.
"Yeah. That's one of those things I really don't want to pick up from Qrow but it might be too late. I might have the sort of addictive personality that leans that way."
"You're not sure?"
"I'm really not the kind of guy that goes to bars much."
"You seem like a regular to bar or club life."
"Yeah. With the right haircut you could be a plain old ladykiller."
I blushed. "I don't think so..."
"Come on."
“I know, let us give you a makeover.”
"Nobody likes a good-looking guy with no confidence."
"Nobody likes a guy with the wrong kind of confidence either. Trust me on that one." I thought of Weiss. She really hadn’t been all that into me. Like at all. But hot girls not liking me was nothing new to my life. It was the rule and there were two redheaded exceptions. Weiss was… probably a friend? Now? I wasn’t really sure. I learned to dislike her a little as a self defense mechanism. And to be fair, while that was probably an unhealthy coping mechanism, it kept me slitting my wrists the short ways rather than the long ways. I sucked on my third drink. My vision was getting a little shaky and my lips and face a little looser. "Where did you girls train?"
"Train?"
"Get your huntswomen training, I mean."
"Huntswomen," Miltia giggled.
"I know he's so careful." Melanie laughed back.
"Listen, I have gotten my ass beat by so many women that it pays to jump through that kind of hoop. It just does."
"We don't have any formal training." Miltia returned to the previous question.
"We're from the mean streets of Vale."
"We're with the gang so…" Miltia finished.
"I see." I nodded along.
"You think it doesn't count?" Melanie prompted.
"It's probably more real than any training someone gets at like, Signal." I disagreed with her implication. "My real training came from after Beacon fell, in the wild. Hunting criminals and real Grimm instead of practice dummies or training partners."
"Plus whatever Branwen is teaching you."
"Eh." I managed. "The chair happened around the same time that I met him. Most of the training he has given me has been verbal rather than hands on. All-l, really-y." I slurred slightly.
"You seem perfectly capable anyways."
"Maybe gang life would suit you."
I watched Miltia trade drinks with Melanie. They took a pull from the others' drink in perfect synchronization. At my look she leaned over. "We don't mind sharing things." She winked.
"Uh huh." I managed stupidly. “So what kind of haircut should I get? Asking for a friend.”
“I don’t know.... What do you think Melanie?”
“Well he looks alright now but he could tame it even more. Slick it back and nice and short. Nothing to grab onto but it would be smooth.”
“Yeah, he’s sort of in between right now. Like go scruffy or comb it over. Pick one and commit.”
“Pick one and commit…?” I trailed.
‘Yeah. You’re scruffy-”
“But not full on scruffy. And you have the comb over-”
“But you didn’t commit to it. If you’d pick one and go with that one who knows what could follow.”
“No one likes a guy who’s indecisive.”
“Seems to me like you girls don’t like a lot of guys,” I cut in. “Indecisive, no confidence, wrong confidence. Boy, is there anything about me girls actually like. I’m honestly asking.”
“What should your angle be? You mean?” Miltia asked.
“Yeah? What cards do I play? I’m too nice for edgy and too honest for mysterious.”
“Well you’re tall and broad so you’ve got that going for you,” Melannie pointed out. “Everyone likes a huntsman. Who doesn’t like a huntsman?”
“Nobody.”
“Okay, I hear that. Let me ask you something. I met the most beautiful girl in the world when I was at Beacon. A smart, gorgeous huntress. Let’s say I was really trying to impress this girl and I tried everything I could think of. I tried singing. I tried asking her to the dance. I tried asking her alone and in groups and in and out of classes. I tried it all. Okay? I tried literally everything and the kitchen sink.”
“And nothing worked?” Melannie asked.
“Nothin’,” I said. “Nothin’ worked. Not a damn thing. I think she hated me.”
“Well it sounds like you were trying too hard. Nobody likes that.”
“And if you’re going to go honest you have to commit.”
“C-o-m-m-i-t,” Melanie hit the back of her hand into her palm with each letter. She spelled it out for me which was good because I’m fuckin’ stupid. “Honest is fine.”
“Honest is good, even. But if you’re dishonest in any way a smart girl will smell that from a mile away. You said she was smart right?”
“The smartest.”
“So what did you really do?”
“We can’t tell you unless you’re completely honest with us,” Melannie ordered.
“Real talk?” I asked. “I… I tried to fake my confidence… and most of my personality...”
“Yeah that’s not gonna work.”
“That’s not gonna work at all,” Miltia agreed. “You can't play the nice guy card and then try and fake it like that. A girl just knows.”
“A girl totally just knows. We would notice if you were faking it right now. It’s like a guy faking their orgasm. It’s not a thing.”
“It’s not like girls can really fake it either…” I pointed out. “It’s pretty obvious and world shaking when a girl finishes for real. And when you do it right she isn’t sure if she wants more or less. Can’t fake that. Come on.”
“He knows…” Melannie trailed.
“He’s onto our entire gender.”
“Who would have thought?”
“Scraggly, tall, and blonde has moves in the bedroom.”
“Please,” I waved off. “It’s so stupid easy to make girls come. It’s literally brain dead. If I can do it anybody can. The clitoris and G-spot are not hard to find. You can make a girl finish even when she is begging you not to.”
“Can you not with guys?” Miltia asked.
“Not a chance. It’s easy to get a guy into it but if he’s not completely into it you cannot get him off. Bet.”
“Is that a challenge?” Melannie wondered. “Are you challenging us?”
“Bet,” I repeated. I finished my drink.
"Are you done flirting." Qrow had rolled up on me without me noticing. No mean feat from the chair.
"I really wouldn't know flirting if it walked up and stabbed me in the front," I leveled against him.
"Well stop it. Come on. I worked out our favors from Lil' Miss Malachite." I said my valedictions, grabbed my tools, and wheeled him back over to the woman in charge.
"So what's the first favor?" I wondered.
"I need someone killed." She splayed her hands across the table. "Is that going to be a problem?"
"Well it depends on who it is, doesn't it."
"Does it?" She pressed me.
"Of course. It matters who it is to you too."
"Smart boy. It's a dust witch in a rival gang named Eminence Kramer. She’s been a thorn in my side for far too long and she has made it clear that she has to go."
"And the second favor?" I continued.
"I need information out of one Don Corneo." She took a long drag. "You decide the order. I don't particularly care. After that we'll get Qrow here a new set of legs and the surgery to boot."
pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq
-WG
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synvamp · 5 years ago
Text
HAPPY PLACE
So I want to go back to that place, you know? Like Vol 7 Ep 5… a little after <3
Slow burn, lots of flirting and fluff. 
 Title: Healing
Fair Game – Part One / 4? More?
Rating: M
So many posts inspired this story. It’s like half the fandom in a fic, you guys are AMAZING… but I… had a bad feeling, so I wrote this before watching ep 12 and now I’m …yeah. I just hope someone reads this crack and feels better <3
---xxx---
 Clover strode into General Ironwood’s office, it was early in the day but he’d already completed his first assignment. It wasn’t unheard of for the General to call him back during the day for an urgent briefing on something which had come up but it wasn’t common either. He was intrigued but not concerned.
 The General turned from where he had been standing by the window, hands clasped tightly behind his back. He’d become more prone to bouts on introspection but he had a lot on his plate right now. It was hardly surprising.
 “General,” Clover snapped a salute.
 The General wasted no time, as always, “What do you know about Qrow Branwen?”
 “Ummm… broke some academy records as a member of team STRQ, some trouble with his sister if I recall rightly, teacher at Signal Academy, skilled huntsman. That’s about all, Sir.”
 “Not bad,” the General smiled, “you really do pay attention… I have information that Huntsman Branwen is about to arrive in Mantle. There are also two teams of student huntsmen with him. I’ve worked with Qrow before and I think he’d be a valuable asset. I’d like to integrate them into our structure… ensure that we have them all on side.”
 Clover nodded, not getting why exactly that may be in doubt but happy to oblige, “And you’d like me to give them a warm welcome? Armed escort?”
 “I’d like you to arrest them,” the General said, looking him in the eyes.
 “Uh, Sir?” Clover said.
 “They are arriving in a stolen transport. Huntsman Branwen has a bit of a history of… bending the rules. I feel it is important to remind them at the outset that this kind of behaviour will not be tolerated in Atlas.”
 “Yes Sir,” Clover smiled. A little bit of an ego check then? He was fine with that.
 The General pressed a button on his desk and a large holographic image flicked up. It was a man. A stunningly beautiful man. He had ebony hair and alabaster skin, eyes like fire and a black and tortured stare which sent shivers racing down Clover’s spine.
 “Specialist?” the General said.
 “Yes Sir?”
 “Are you quite alright?”
 “Yes, Sir,” Clover coughed, “I’ve just never seen a picture of Huntsman Branwen before… not what I was expecting.”
 “Is that so?” the General asked, a thin smile gracing his lips.
 “Will that be all Sir?” Clover asked, keen to get himself as far away from the holograph as possible.
 “No. I’d like you to keep an eye on him while he’s here, keep him close. His semblance is misfortune…”
 Clover could feel the General watching him, waiting for a response, “Can’t believe he achieved so much in spite of something like that… that’s incredible.”
 A hint of a smile twitched on the General’s lips, “Quite. I just think that as our plans enter this final stage, we might need luck on our side.”
 “Yes Sir.”
 “You think you can manage that?”
 Clover looked into those deep red eyes; long dark lashes framed them just so, somehow giving this hardened fighter a softness… a vulnerability…
 Clover swallowed loudly, “Yes Sir,” he said.
 ---xxx---
 Qrow sat in his newly assigned Atlas quarters. He lay on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.
 Clover Ebi.
 Yeah, let’s think about him some more, that’s been working out so well.
 Qrow sighed and turned over, curling his slight frame a little tighter. No matter what he did, he could not stop thinking about Clover.
 His eyes – which were a shade of green so perfect that it was nearly painful.
 His words – which were warm and tender, reassuring yet relaxed.
 His semblance – a perfect mirror to his own… and what it could mean... If Clover could teach him how to control his semblance better… If Clover could balance out his bad luck so that the people near him need not fear for their lives…
 His pants…
 No, not this again. Yes, the man’s crotch is difficult to look away from. Yes, his hair is as perfect as a marble statue. Yes, his wink makes me want to whip out Harbinger and slice his clothes clean off…
 And he’s so nice to me! Why is he so damn nice to me?! No one is that nice to me! ARGH I’M SO SEXUALLY FRUSTRATED.
 Great denial there, Qrow. Doing fine.
 Qrow pressed his face into the pillow and tried to suffocate himself.
 This is the last thing you need right now! Even I know that getting a raging hard-on for one of Jimmy’s little soldier boys is a bad, BAD idea. And a handpicked specialist at that…
 Jimmy must have really thought he’d struck gold, finding someone with a luck semblance to run his little show. And to have the guy all set up and ready to go, just in time for Qrow to stumble in with his comedy misfortune act, ready to accidentally tear the place a new one…
 It was all a bit too much of a coincidence, hey?
 Qrow sat up suddenly and threw the pillow on the floor.
 That’s why he’s so damn nice to me. Jimmy pays him.
Shit! Qrow you complete idiot! Why for the love of ass why would you ever, ever think that things might possibly be going your way!? Haven’t you learned anything!?
 It all seemed so obvious. He could even imagine the conversation:
 Jimmy: Hey Clover, you’re a gorgeous, clean cut all-Altesian kinda guy!
 Clover: Why, yes I am!
 Jimmy: I have an old frenemy coming to stay! His semblance is misfortune!
 Clover: Well, how about that?
Jimmy: He’s the unluckiest bastard alive. Whole city might just burn down around us as soon as he walks thought the gate.
 Clover: That sounds bad!
 Jimmy: It’s terrible. Can you babysit him for me? Just follow him around being lucky? Make sure he stays happy. He’s a real pain in the ass.
 Clover: Sounds like a major drag but anything for Atlas! Oh Sir, would you mind if I licked your boots on my way out?
 Jimmy: No, son! Help yourself!
Thanks universe, Qrow sighed deeply, love you too, babe.
 ---xxx---
Part Two
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authorgirl1111 · 5 years ago
Text
My Hero Academia Power Up
So I am watching My Hero Academia, and I can’t help but thing about a girl who’s power is perfect for the Hero Support Courses, but useless for the Hero Program itself. 
See her Quirk is Power Up: She can ‘Power Up’ anyone she chooses within a certain distance. Depending on there quirk, she can make someone stronger, faster, she can increase someone’s reach (like if someone’s quirk is telepath, and they have a certain range - she can increase the range of telekinesis), if someone is quirkless, she’s found that she can make them stronger, and faster too like they had a very strong surge of adrenaline (She’s found that’s super helpful when helping strangers escape)
Thing is, she knows her power isn’t good for fighting villains, oh sure, she’ s been taking martial arts since she was a girl, and can hold herself pretty well against some of the people who have average power quirks. But against powerful people? People who have telekinesis? Yeah right. 
So she enrolls in UA. Signs up for The Hero Support Courses. She knows her place, and she knows that if she can’t be a hero, the least she can do, is help the other heroes. 
She learns how to make weapons, she learns how to make things that will allow which ever hero she manages to work for, to be a better fighter. 
She’s not the best student, but she’s not the worst, but she’ll take what she can get. 
Then the UA festival comes around, and she wonders if this is her chance. Her chance to show her quirk. 
Her mother warns her, that villains will be watching the festical too, and they might be interested in using her ability for themselves, and that they should be careful. 
But this girl doesn’t care. She’s excited, it’s only year one, but several of her classmates are already talking about job opertunities and how much it would mean if they could heroes attention cause it might mean a job after UA, if the heroes can see there own designs and equipment.
The girl spends several weeks designing and perfecting things that might help her win. A backpack that can double as a jet pack (her best friend Mikasa helped her design that), she knows one of the kids from hero class can control ice so on the off chance that the woman uses her ice and ices the whole platform she makes some skates that are hidden into the souls of her shoes. She ties a rope around her waist. She tries to make a few weapons that would allow her to defeat a robot or too. 
Finally the day of the tournament is there. The first tournament is a obstacle course. With plenty of robots that they have to get past. 
The robots are a lot more resilient than she thought. She just barely makes it past them, one of the ice kids froze the pond, so she activates the skates and skates across the ice. The Robots can’ t keep up and slip and fall. 
When she gets to the canyons she just flies over them. Same as with the minefield. 
And at luck, she’s one of the 42 who are able to advance to the next round. 
The Calvary battle however is her time to shine. 
She’s lucky she’s able to get a few people to partner up with her. A girl with speed, a boy with red flames, and the girl who’s responsible for all the ice in the beginning of the games.
She explain your quirk, and they all seem interested. She hands over a few things she made. Explains how to use it, and then state, that with her quirk it would be best if she was on top. Since it would be easier to ‘power up’ if she was touching everyone. The fire teen grumbles about it, but then nods after sheexplain that it would be the best way to win. 
She’s able to power up the speed girl, so that there almost a blur, and are able to grab quite a few headbands that way. When people start gunning for them ice girl and fire boy use there quirks to block them off. Her quirk both cools down ice girls and heats up flame boy. So no matter the temperature both are able to keep there elements going.
They come in second, which upsets the fire boy, but the other two seem quite pleased. 
Then comes in the one on one fights, and she looses on her first fight. It’s a pity that she can only power up someone but has no idea how to power them down. 
She goes to recovery girl and asks to be healed, her opponent had slammed her down so hard before she could even use any of her equipment and had broken not only her equipment but also a couple of bones 
A few pro’s meet her in the hospital, asking her about her quirk, since the speed girl that she had been powered up had just lost her battle, and by the looks of it she was far more powerful in the Calvary battle.
The girl reveals that her quirk allows her to strength the quirks of the people around her- as of yet she’s only been able to strengthen she can decrease there abilities. 
The hero’s are impressed and reveal that with that ability on there side they would have an easier time taking down villains.
She just smiles and nods, and admits that that’s why she enrolled in the support program. 
That night she receives a few numbers and a couple of heroes ask her to keep harnessing her quirk, and maybe they would hire her into their agency. 
---
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kakosindustries · 6 years ago
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The Live Episode from February 10th, 2019 in Phoenix, Arizona. CW: References to Euthanasia/Suicide.
[[Kakos Bells]]
Intro: What you are about to hear is positive, honest, and uplifting entertainment.
[[Guitar Intro]]
Greetings. Welcome. Take your seats. Feel free to get a drink at any time because you’re going to need it. It’s really best that you stay lubricated for this.
Just so you know, we are now recording this show so that we may better market to you in the future and exploit your every weakness, so if you don’t want what you have to say to go on the Internet, then please keep your mouth shut. Laughter is fine. Screams of terror are fine. Coughing and sneezing are frowned upon. Talking to your buddy about something totally unrelated is a capital crime.
I have just received word that the outside world as we knew it ended moments ago. It is chaos, carnage, death, and destruction out there. The fortunate news is that we are all still alive. That will remain fortunate news right up until we have to start eating each other. In that case, then the people who died instantly above will be the lucky ones.
Tip your bartenders well because money is meaningless now. Everything from here on out is social currency and sexual favors.
My name is Corin Deeth III. I am CEO of Kakos Industries, the sponsor of tonight’s event. You see, even though the world as we know it has ended, Kakos Industries, the company that specializes in helping its clients to Do Evil Better, will continue on. We will continue to do Evil and to advance Evil, and to help everyone everywhere, at least everyone who’s left, to do Evil. Kakos Industries has its innumerable tendrils in everything. From technological advancements, to new techniques for economic exploitation, to the feeling you have when you’re fucking someone you like, but they like like you and you’re really not sure you can keep fucking them with the constant guilt of obviously caring less. We help the world to do Evil. Additionally, if you were going to ghost your date after tonight… whoops.
And that’s where you come in, guests. You see, we need you. Now that the vast majority of humanity is either exterminated or in the process of being exterminated, we need you. Without humanity, there can be no Evil. Nature sets itself apart from humanity in its total and complete neutrality. With humanity, good and Evil can exist. So we need some of you miserable bastards to stick around to stay miserable. It’s really an honor, if you think about it. And the price of admission? Just five dollars? Eight at the door? To be given the privilege of rebooting society? That’s pretty nice.
[[Heat Lightning]]
Quick FAQ:
What has caused the apocalypse? We do not know at this time. It currently seems as though it was a lot of things all at once. Or one thing many times. We’re looking into it and we will bring you details as we get them.
Who caused the apocalypse? Was it the guy we’re thinking of? No. It was us. We did it. We caused it. And as soon as we figure out how, we’ll brag about how we did it. No one has paid us to take blame. Not even with luxury apocalypse bunkers. We already have those. We did it. Just for fun. It was all us.
What does this mean for my loved ones? They are so fucking dead. So fucking dead. We hope that you brought the people you like the most here because everyone else is just fucking toast at this point. And if they’re not, then they are in danger of being crushed, impaled, dissolved, or eaten at this very moment, and I’m not an actuary, but they likely won’t survive long.
Can I leave to try to save my family and friends? No. We’ve locked the bunker, and we are all in here permanently. Take a look around you. Take in your surroundings. These are your new digs for the rest of your life. Take a look at the people in the room. These are your new best friends. These are your new enemies. These are the grandparents to your grandchildren. Assuming this apocalypse takes that long to work its way out. If there’s no radiation or renegade AI, we might be out of here in a year or two.
What about these people that keep filtering into the room? Aren’t they breaking the immersion? Well, those people have come here through the huge series of access tunnels that connect all basement spaces like this one. They escaped the apocalypse at the same time as you, but they just got here a little later. Nothing to worry about.
Was this whole thing planned? How did you know to bring us down here? Another thoughtful question. Yes. Probably. We’re still working out the details of exactly what we did, but I can assure you it was very intentional. Everything we do is very intentional. And well planned.
Is my student loan debt really gone? Can it be true? Have no fear. We will find a way to keep you in debtors’ hell forever.
Other important rules. You have to ride the electricity generating bike if you want a turn with the bluetooth speaker. Well that about covers it.
[[Unpointedness]]
Take a look under your seat. You will have a card under there outlining your new social class here in the apocalypse and your expectations. Some of us will have to work with our hands, others will work with our brains. Some will collect the muck slime, others will prepare the muck slime, but we will all eat the muck slime. Who’s a mage? Just kidding, that’s not a real class. Who is a soldier? You will need to do violence on our behalf, especially keeping the eventual tide of monsters at bay. We thank you in advance for your sacrifice. If I were you, I would tune out the rest of what I’m saying, and start eyeing up what you can use from around the room as a weapon.
The janitors will be responsible for cleaning all of the floors and rooms, and also the people who get so depressed that they can’t shower. Who is the scribe? Please begin writing down everything I say. In fact, if you could write down everything I’ve already said, that would be super.
After the show, we will have two of you fight for our entertainment. Please look at your new social class cards. Who’s a fighter? Oh, three of you? It’s thunderdome then.
Who is the golden child? You are now the luckiest, most talented, and most successful among us, and we will all love and resent you.
Who got bad joke recipient? You will now have to listen to all of the jokes that we as a subterranean society can come up with, and laugh at every single one of them. Even the bad ones. Even the ones that you personally disagree with.
Who is the werewolf? Just kidding. We’ll all close our eyes later for that part.
Also, there will be no elections. I am in charge. The end. Except for mine inspector. We will continue to elect mine inspector. It’s a critical position.
Now that we have the ground rules laid, it’s time to take part in the apocalypse pledge of allegiance. Hands over hearts. Repeat after me. We promise to Do Evil at all times, except when that Evil might mean the extinction of the species, without which Evil cannot continue. We hereby promise to walk that fine line and Do Evil Better. Amen, brother. Thank you for doing that. It is legally, as well as morally binding.
So how many of you were Shareholders in Kakos Industries before tonight? (some sort of response) Well, you are all shareholders now, which means that you can rest easily knowing that your contributions have helped to promote the spread of Evil everywhere in the world. Income inequality. Hunger. Political meddling of all kinds. And everyone’s favorite: Sex. Anyone planning on having sex today? (We’ve got some confident people in the audience today.) In the bunker. Wow. We haven’t even given you your room assignments yet.
[[Elusiveness]]
Before we get too far, we should probably check in on that apocalypse. Right now, we’ve got our field agent Titus Lachlan on the surface, risking life and limb so that we might be able to learn a bit more about the disaster on the surface.
Corin: Come in, Titus. Can you hear me?
Titus (ADAM): Yeah, Corin. I can hear you. I just found some cover.
Corin: What’s going on out there?
Titus: I am as of this time still uncertain. It’s quite dusty out and I am finding it difficult to see.
Corin: Dusty… everywhere?
Titus: Well, I stopped to have a beer under a tree, and it is very dusty right here in particular.
Corin: Well, can you move to another location to give us some useful details?
Titus: I would love to do that, Corin. Just as soon as I finish my bitter.
Corin: Titus, I don’t mean to dwell on the negative here, but you could die at any time. Isn’t there something useful you can tell us?
Titus: Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Corin. I am totally impervious to apocalypses. The worst thing that can happen to me is that I will be the only one left alive when this is all said and done, which, admittedly, is pretty bad now that I think of it.
Corin: How can you be impervious to apocalypses?
Titus: An experiment went wrong, and here I am.
Corin: But how could you know that you’re impervious? The only apocalypse to happen is the one that just happened.
Titus: The scientists used concentrated apocalypse beams in the lab and I withstood all of them. No matter if it’s the biblical end times or a sciencey one, I’ll be right as rain.
Corin: How much beer do you have left?
Titus: It’s a tall boy, Corin. I’ll be sipping for another few minutes at least.
Corin: Well, radio in when you have something.
Titus might not have anything of use, but we can still listen in on what’s going on at the nearest listening station.
([1] – some distorted screaming, explosions, gunshots, fire sounds, etc)
Well, that sounded pretty bad. Remember that all of that is out there waiting for you if you feel the need to go smoke. Might want to wait a little bit.
I have in front of me a list of all the possible causes of the apocalypse. First item is giant robot AI. That is interesting. I should double check that with our resident robot expert, Dirk Cornelius Sexplosion, CEO of Giant-Ass Robots to Kick In Your Face. I say resident expert because he made the mistake of coming to live in this bunker, making him a resident.
New shareholders and old shareholders alike, you will enjoy hearing from Dirk. He is a man of such tremendous Evil, such dastardly masculinity, such malicious ingenuity, that we are truly lucky to have him here. He makes enormous metal machines that cause unfathomable amounts of damage worldwide, but his strength of will is even stronger. He is the master of manliness, the zenith of zero compassion, and the pinnacle of penility. Let me introduce Dirk motherfucking Sexplosion.
[[Pythonidae]]
(Dirk sobs)
Corin: Oh, for fuck’s sake, it’s the apocalypse, man. Get yourself together!
Dirk (ANWAR): I’m trying! It’s… It’s not the apocalypse.
Corin: What’s the problem?
Dirk: It’s… my family, Corin. My wives. My husband. Our dogs and hedgehog.
Corin: They’re all here. We evacuated them before we definitely caused the apocalypse.
Dirk: It’s not that. They’re safe and sound and set up in our luxury apocalypse bunker away from all of these filthy normal people. But they’re just so angry at me, Corin.
Corin: Dirk, it’s not unusual for friends and family to not understand your relationship with or appreciation of Evil. We have support groups for that.
Dirk: It’s not that, Corin. It’s… They think I caused the apocalypse.
Corin: That’s ridiculous, Dirk. We caused the apocalypse. Possibly using your robots, but it was us, not you. I have lists here of everything you were working on and none of them could have ended the world individually.
Dirk: There’s more than just that, Corin.
Corin: Go on.
Dirk: Well, you see, you’re always pushing me to be more Evil. Harder. Toxically manlier.
Corin: Well, Dirk, you tend to bring me really wimpy shit. Like giant dog robots that humans pilot so they can feel like puppies.
Dirk: Well, I decided I had enough of being so sad about stuff like that and I was just going to push through it. I was going to make a giant robot that could destroy the world. I kept it off the books. No one was to know about it until it was done. The MegaDeFuckulatrix 9 Quadrillion.
Corin: I’m going to set aside my frustration at your dishonesty for a moment. Don’t tell me this robot could feel the desperation of aging or some bullshit like that.
Dirk: (through sobs) It had rocket launchers firing spent uranium.
Corin: That sound sick as shit.
Dirk: It had enormous blades to destroy entire forests!
Corin: Rad.
Dirk: It could set fires large enough to change the weather hundreds of miles away!
Corin: I’m really loving this robot.
Dirk: Its fuel source was people!
Corin: Fuck yeah.
Dirk: I mean, not just people, but people are its favorite.
Corin: Dirk, I’m not mad at you. I’m just amazed. I love the MegaDeFuckulatrix 9 Quadrillion. You did all of this on your own without our help?
Dirk: It took everything I had. And I went too far, Corin! I killed all people. Now there’s no one left. And my family is so mad at me.
Titus: Come in, Corin.
Corin: What is it Titus?
Titus: The dust where I’m sitting has started to subside and it looks like there’s a giant robot here.
Dirk: MegaDeFuckulatrix 9 Quadrillion!
Titus: Ah, yep. That’s what it says on it. Right on the shaft of its big robo dick.
Corin: Dirk, you gave the robot a dick?
Dirk: We’ve been over this, Corin. If the robot doesn’t have a dick, then none of the other parts fit together. You just have a pile of robot parts on the floor. And that’s not going to feast on any humans, is it?
Titus: Well, the robot is now rocking back and forth on it’s robo buttocks, and it appears to be sobbing. It is trying to eat the trees nearby, but it is not having a good go of it.
Dirk: But it eats people. For fuel. Not trees.
Titus: Well, it looks like it might have grown a conscience. It didn’t even do that much damage first. Looks like maybe one factory destroyed, no more than maybe seventy five people. I don’t think this big guy caused the apocalypse.
[Robot Crying]
Dirk: He sounds so sad! But that means… I’m in the clear?
Corin: It looks like it. Thank you, Titus. Please let me know if you discover anything else.
Titus: Right-o. Titus out.
Dirk: MegaDeFuckulatrix 9 Quadrillion is just like me. It tries so hard, but then, it’s just so sad.
Corin: Just like you.
Dirk: I’m so relieved, Corin. My family will be so happy to hear this.
Corin: So the next item on my list is AI robot swarms. Do you know anything about those, Dirk?
Dirk: Huh? No. We don’t use artificial intelligence. We only use artificial stupidity and artificial emotional instability.
Corin: I think I can see what happened here. Well, you can go back to your family, then.
Dirk: But… my son is out there, Corin.
Corin: MegaDeFuckulatrix 9 Quadrillion?
Dirk: He’s so sad and out there all alone. I should help him, Corin. I can teach him to eat plants if that will make him happy.
Corin: It’s the apocalypse out there, Dirk, and you’re not apocalypse proof. I think this will sort itself out. And you can’t leave.
Dirk: I just want my boy to be happy, Corin!
Corin: Go to your family, Dirk.
Dirk: Yes. You’re right, Corin. My boy will be fine out there.
Corin: That’s not what I said– I mean, yeah, he’ll be fine.
[[Bawdry]]
Talking to Dirk, I almost forgot about our impending doom for a minute there. Let’s check in on the horror outside.
([2] – Another really terrible sound)
That still sounds pretty bad. Maybe it’s mutants. That would be fun. To tell us more about mutants, we have Mitch Grody from the Division of Mutants and Freaks, author of What to Expect When You’re Expecting to Severely Mutate to tell us more.
Mitch (ADAM): It’s great to be here, Corin.
Corin: So what do you have to tell us today?
Mitch: Well, Corin, as you know, I’m a mutant. And I just want to tell everyone in here that there’s nothing to worry about. In the event that this apocalypse has been caused by radiation or some virulent mutagen that the shareholders were unable to avoid for any reason, I am here to tell them that it’s okay to be a mutant. I’m a mutant, and I live a full and happy life.
Corin: How did your mutation come to be?
Mitch: Well, I used to be a lab tech testing new and strange genetic modifications. One day, I noticed we forgot to put the right specimen in the chamber and I went to switch it out real quick when the gene laser hit me right in the family jewels. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but when I woke up the next day, I had two penises, Corin. I thought that was pretty neat. The next day, I had three penises, and I think we can all agree that’s too many. Right ladies? Clap if you think three penises is too many.
Corin: So what was the rest of the transformation like?
Mitch: Well, as you can see, the rest of my skin got kind of weird. Lumpy. Flaky. Weird. And I also have a few other organs that have split in three. My liver being one. Alcohol doesn’t affect me any longer. And then my life took a pretty steep decline. My girlfriend couldn’t keep up with my three dicks. They all have different personalities, you know. Different needs. And tastes. So my girlfriend left. Then my landlord kicked me out. I mean, all I had done was cover my apartment in moss. People don’t realize how nice it is to sleep on moss when your skin is so lumpy and flaky. This was in the days before the Mutant Non-Discrimination Act. Things are so much better now.
Corin: How did you learn to cope? It’s important for our shareholders who might be mutating at this moment to know there’s hope.
Mitch: Well, I found a new lover with three vaginas. And a penis. I didn’t think I’d like that, but it grew on me. Not literally. Still just the three penises here. Anyway, she and I are very much in love, even after she found out that I caused her mutation due to my own loneliness. I needed another mutant freak to be with, and I arranged for her to have an accident. It seems that no one else will love her now. I call that a victory, Corin.
Corin: You are a mutant, and a monster. Do you have any recommendations for people just beginning to mutate?
Mitch: Thank you, Corin, for pitching my book. I would tell anyone feeling the tug of the mutated fates that they should begin to study mutation. Know it inside and out. Learn everything you can from everyone you can. Begin experimenting as much as possible. And when the time comes, act as selfishly as possible and patch things up later. And by that, I mean find someone special, and dose them with just the right mutagens to get them to be your perfect missing piece. And if you happen to end up with four vaginas and three penises, my lover and I are currently looking for a swinging partner.
Corin: Well, I don’t know how anyone can be depressed about their progressing mutation with advice like that. Thank you, Mitch.
Titus: Come in, Corin.
Corin: I’m here.
Titus: I just tasted the dirt up here. It does not taste like radiation or mutagens. That is conclusive evidence.
Corin: Well… okay. I’ll take your word for it.
[[Aerator]]
So as shareholders in Kakos Industries, it is important to have pride in what you are now a part of. I would like to tell you about a few of our ongoing programs that will be contributing to Evil in the post-apocalyptic future.
The first program is The Better Mutants from our partner Better Mutations Inc. While we just learned that there will be no mutants in the post-apocalypse due to radiation or mutagens, we all have certain expectations for what should be out there when we finally surface. For this reason, The Better Mutants project was undertaken. As we speak, ordinary animals like crows, pigeons, lizards, and rabbits are all being modified to be larger and far more hazardous. Sharper teeth, a thirst for blood, and acidic secretions they shoot out of their eyeballs. It will really help to sell the post-apocalypse stylistically speaking in the future, which I think we can all appreciate. Or at least our great grandchildren will. They will think, “Thank Evil this wasteland is so dangerous. My immersion would have been broken otherwise!”
We also occasionally spend time working with fashion. While it’s great fun and great Evil designing clothes that no one can fit into, or clothes that make us look so sexually exciting that it’s difficult to think about anything other than sex, until the clothes come off and we realize just how deeply unappealing all of us humans are at the base level when undoctored by makeup and wardrobe. But for now, our Division of Adornments has taken a much more serious task. That is, to keep the wasteland sexy. I know for a fact that none of you in this room would be satisfied to see a wasteland where no one is hot. So they’ve been leaving stashes of ripped and torn clothing, but in like better ways than would happen at random, so our descendants will look amazing while still fitting into that scavenger aesthetic. This way, we can imagine an apocalypse the way we might like to imagine it, especially as we are quietly satisfying ourselves so as not to disturb our neighbor in the next bunk.
([Noise 1])
[[Melantha Keys]]
Melantha (BECCA): Corin. I’m interrupting you.
Corin: Ah, Melantha Murther, CEO of [Competitor – Corin Pronunciation], our largest competitor.
Melantha: You sound like you have a speech impediment. Or damage to the speech processing section of your brain. It’s pronounced [Competitor – Melantha Pronunciation].
Corin: Ah, I see. My mistake.
Melantha: It happens all the time. It’s a useful Shiboleth for finding out who around me is a complete idiot.
Corin: How is your apocalypse, Melantha?
Melantha: It’s fantastic. So hot! We finished the hole under our building just in time, and we just dropped the whole thing down underground to safety. Now, nothing can touch us, and we can keep doing Evil.
Corin: That’s comforting news. It seems that our rivalry will go on, then.
Melantha: Rivalry? Don’t be silly. It’s not like you caused the apocalypse.
Corin: What? Of course we caused the apocalypse.
Melantha: No. You didn’t. We did. Because we are far more Evil than you. No Evil Left Undone. That’s our motto, and the apocalypse was the obvious next step when we had finished all the other Evils.
Corin: Then how did the apocalypse happen?
Melantha: Well… it was… obviously an extremely infectious venereal disease from our lab. It makes people just do it a whole lot, all over the place, in all the positions. Doing it. And spreading the disease until everyone is doing it. But then your nose falls off. And then you die.
Titus: Come in, Corin.
Corin: Go ahead, Titus.
Melantha: Are you taking another call? Right now?
Titus: I just got lucky, Corin. Just rooted a woman here on the surface. She was looking to feel something other than fear for a few moments and pulled me aside to do the deed. I can safely confirm that venereal disease has not caused the apocalypse. I am detecting nothing abnormal about my loins at all. The woman ran off, so I couldn’t do any, uh, further testing. But, Definitely not VD.
Corin: Excellent news, Titus. Do you hear that, Melantha? You didn’t cause the apocalypse.
Melantha: Then what did?
Corin: Well, obviously, it was… drugs?
Titus: Corin, I have just snorted some of the dirt. No buzz at all. Not a thing. Not even a little bit. It wasn’t drugs either.
Melantha: Then you don’t know either! Ha! It seems this is a draw, Corin! I’ll just keep investigating until I figure out that I caused this and then I will rub your face in it. Hahahahaha!
[Noise 2]
Corin: Or maybe I caused it! I mean… I could have. We’ll get to the bottom of this, shareholders.
But first, let’s take a brief intermission. If you haven’t already, please tell us what is most Evil on the pad of paper here at the front, and throw your name into the Ruin-A-Life Drawing.
[[Stop Music]]
INTERMISSION
We will now need a volunteer from the audience. Who wants to read? (Don’t make me pick one of you at random)
[[Flathead]]
What’s your name? Thank you for coming to the stage. Ladies, gentlemen, and everyone else, this is X. Thank you so much for joining us today. Now, as I understand it, you have volunteered to seal the tunnels from the outside and brave whatever terrors might be waiting for you out there to save all of us. This is truly a dangerous and terrible task, and we thank you for that.
Guest: I have no idea what you are talking about.
Corin: Ah, yes, I did hear about the head injury you encountered earlier. It can play havoc with your memories.
Guest: I did not volunteer to do anything dangerous.
Corin: Don’t be ridiculous. It was very brave. We were all very impressed.
Guest: Just a moment ago, you asked for volunteers to come read a part.
Corin: That doesn’t sound right. I introduced you, you came to the stage and now you are telling me about the brave and dangerous feat ahead of you, and I am telling you just how brave and courageous we think you are. Thank you for your service.
Guest: You asked me to come read. Anyone in the audience will remember that.
Corin: The audience does not remember that. And if they do, then there’s a kind of thing called a collective hallucination. If anyone remembers me asking for you to come up here from the audience, they are just remembering wrong. You are a guest like any other on this show. We talked about it earlier. Your family did mention you might have some memory troubles, though.
Guest: I have no idea what’s happening.
Corin: None of us do. It’s the apocalypse. It is all very scary and we are all thankful that you are going to do this selfless thing and go battle with escaped monsters and terrible biological pathogens that are certain to be lining the tunnels now until you finally fall to one of their attacks, saving all of us.
Guest: This is crazy. I volunteered for none of that. I just came here to watch a show because you asked me to on Facebook.
Corin: Oh, bless your heart. We will never forget your sacrifice.
Guest: I simply will not do this thing.
Corin: That’s okay. We have several people standing by to escort you to your new task. Everyone please applaud as this brave soul goes to do something unimaginably brave and selfless for all of us. And die a terrible death. (You can go now)
It’s been a minute since we checked outside. Let’s have a listen.
[3] (More Terrible sounds)
At Kakos Industries, we are known for our parties. Of course, we’re Evil and we take the time to party whenever we can. I know that some of you long time shareholders might be concerned about how we might continue this critical part of our operations in these new, dramatically worsened circumstances. Obviously, we will all have to make some modifications, and that includes how we will celebrate. Right now, we should be having the Shareholders’ Ball, the most extravagant party of the year for us at Kakos Industries. It’s that time when we celebrate you, the shareholders. We spare no expense, and violate whatever morals we might have left, to bring you a feast and entertainment to truly remember. We’re still working out the kinks, but it’s likely the entertainment and the food offerings will be human suffering themed. Because we’ve got a lot of it right now. Those of you with chef on your new class cards should get to work so I don’t look like a fool when the time comes.
There’s also the Festival of Books. We do have a few books. They are all Dan Brown novels, though. Sorry about that. Not quite as exciting as we’re used to.
The CEO Festival is the festival where you all celebrate me. I did mention the thunderdome, right? It’ll probably be a thunderdome kind of thing. And the Festival of the Dance? Probably thunderdome. The Festival of Darkness will occur any time someone uses the bluetooth speaker without using the electric bike. It’ll trip the breaker and turn out the lights. Festival of Somnambulation? That’ll also be a thunderdome. The Thunderdome Festival will be a quiet game of cards, though.
I mentioned our low supply of books, but it would seem that the rest of our media is somewhat limited as well. The Internet has been completely destroyed. (pause) That’s what I thought. We’re not really that sad about it, are we? We’ve been kind of like, waiting for it to go for a while now, right? Before the apocalypse we tried to archive as much of the Internet as possible, so we could pretend like it still exists for some time, but the only things we managed to save were extreme right wing terrorist forums, so we deleted them. Also we saved the most recent meme to be posted to the Internet right before everything went to shit. It’s not a good one, but it is the last thing humanity did before the end of the world. It’s a kitten, on a blue background, and it says “This apocalypse shit is freaking meowt.” Congratulations, humanity.
[[Overdraught]]
To speak with us a bit more about the limited media we still have access to, we are now joined by Lisa Librera, the curator of what remains of our archives of entertainment. So, Lisa, what do we have to keep ourselves busy?
Lisa (KELSEY): Thank you, Corin. In addition to the books you mentioned and the lovely meme that will need to sustain us for the rest of time, we also have a small collection of VHS tapes, but they are all either commercial releases of Showgirls, the Ernest collection, or television taped in Super Long Play mode by someone’s grandmother. We know whose, we’re just not comfortable sharing that information right now. You will have to check them out and return them in one piece. Also, there is only one VCR, and it stays in the break room.
Corin: That seems difficult, but I assume we will adapt quickly.
Lisa: We also have a complete collection of Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass on Vinyl, and an extremely worn copy of Thriller. The stylus has broken on our turntable, however. For other auditory entertainment, we also have this kitschy digital remote control that just plays fart sounds. Please use this responsibly.
Corin: If anyone can be trusted with such a power, it is our shareholders.
Lisa: We also have many of the Earth’s greatest works of art that you can look at through a window on the far side of the break room. Please do not concern yourselves with the identities of the masked figures who move the art around and sort it, and do not concern yourself with how we got any of it either.
Corin: I can think of nothing concerning about any of that. At least not to my sensibilities.
Lisa: There are six decks of cards. You will need to show proof that you will be playing cards with at least one other person before you will be allowed to check one out. No solitaire. We don’t have the resources for solitaire. We also have some dice, but they are exclusively for gambling.
Corin: I was going to ask about gambling. I’m glad that particular aspect of humanity will continue into the apocalypse.
Lisa: There is one puzzle. We don’t know what it’s supposed to look like when completed, or if all of the pieces are there, or if all of the pieces are even from the same puzzle.
Corin: I’m sure we will find out quickly.
Lisa: There are also several copies of Monopoly that I expect none of you to play. We also have a Bop-It, and a Skip-It. We expect them to be completely broken by tomorrow.
Corin: I can see that.
Lisa: There is also just one remaining porno magazine. It will be kept under lock and key. You will have to make an appointment, look at it, memorize whatever you need, and then go about your way, leaving it in the case. I am told, however, that there is something for everyone in it.
Corin: What about people who need more physical activity to keep themselves sane?
Lisa: You’ve already mentioned the exercise bike and the blue tooth speaker, but we do have a complete weight room in case you feel like getting prison jacked while you’re down here, and why not. We also have the GED prep book for anyone who wants to better themselves. We cannot guarantee that the information in this book is going to be valuable in the post apocalypse, but it’s about time you got yourself back into school.
Corin: That makes sense. It’s never too late for self improvement.
Lisa: We also have a limited supply of a variety of colors of paint so that you may while away the hours watching them dry. There’s also this cup and ball thing that I think we’re all going to be experts at soon enough, and a single puzzle cube, but it’s missing two of the face stickers. We don’t have the right color markers to do anything about that.
Corin: Well it seems like we might be just about set for the rest of our lives down here. Is there anything else?
Lisa: We also have one of those floor mats that promises to teach you to do the Jitterbug, but we lost the instructions. And the music.
Corin: That’s too bad. Thank you for joining us.
[[Helena]]
Corin: Hey, Titus.
Titus: Yes, Corin?
Corin: Is there any chance the apocalypse was caused by boredom?
Titus: I certainly don’t think so, Corin. If anything, it is quite exciting out here. I am positively riveted. It reminds me of my youth, when I used to cliff dive into waters just infested with jellies to show them who was boss.
I have a note here saying that our next guest is Deborah Highlow, from the Division of Animal Husbandry. Well, okay.
Deborah (BECCA): I appreciate you asking me here, Corin.
Corin: I definitely didn’t do that.
Deborah: I have something very important to talk about today.
Corin: Okay. Go ahead.
Deborah: It’s about the animals we have here in the bunker. Our livestock.
Corin: Do you want to talk with us about how to handle the animals and make sure that they last for generations to come?
Deborah: No, all of that is automated. I have something more important to talk about. May I address the shareholders directly?
Corin: Uh, yeah. I guess.
Deborah: Hello shareholders. My name is Deborah. I work with animals every day. I love animals and all that they have to offer us, so I want to talk to you about the most pressing issue facing us now that we are locked in this basement with the livestock. And that is overcoming your lust for them.
Corin: I’m going to cut you off right there, Deborah.
Deborah: Corin, this is important. Let me finish.
Corin: No guarantees.
Deborah: We’ve all been there. You catch the eye of that beautiful, glistening pack animal, and you think, there is nothing I want inside of me more than that animal.
Corin: Like to eat?
Deborah: No, Corin. Not to eat.
Corin: Please let’s not do this.
Deborah: You start by stroking its mane.
Corin: No.
Deborah: and maybe you get a little bit experimental.
Corin: Please stop.
Deborah: But this is wrong. We cannot fuck the animals.
Corin: Didn’t even cross my mind.
Deborah: You say that now, Corin. But just wait three months, down here, with all of these people. You’ll fuck half of them by next month. But then what will excite you?
Corin: Three months sounds like a short amount of time for this kind of change.
Deborah: You’ll start looking to the cows. Or the chickens. Or the horses.
Corin: There aren’t any horses down here.
Deborah: Oh, what a relief then. Actually, it was primarily the horses I was worried about. Now I feel silly for even bringing this up.
Corin: Well, I feel… silly isn’t the right word.
Deborah: Goodbye, Corin.
So… we’re going to have to get someone to fuck Deborah. Like a human person. Fall on that sword, guys. Because there will be no animal fucking in here.
Now we recognize it can get kind of boring down here, especially if you don’t have a whole lot of friends in this group, which is why we’re starting up some extracurricular activities to stay busy. We will have a choir. We currently only have the sheet music for acapella Sweet Caroline, but I’m sure you resourceful people will figure out some other songs.
We’re also going to have some roleplaying groups, but each group will have that guy that tries to game the system in a super unfun way. We also have one amongst us who can teach everyone else to make pottery. I am told that there is also an inflatable hot tub, but the heater is broken, and it probably has a hole in it.
I am now joined by Dennis Leelio, Director of The Intergalactic Network For Otherworldly Industry Liaisons, or TINFOIL for short.
[[Automat 2]]
Corin: What do you have to talk about today, Dennis?
Dennis (ANWAR): Well, usually, COrin, I deal with outer space shit. Aliens. Making alliances. Maintaining trade. Getting the good Froobberries from Markalon 99, okay? But now, we’re underground. I could have been in space for the apocalypse, but you decided to bring me back to Earth so that I could join you guys in the fucking ground. Real, exciting, Corin. Just a great fucking time for me. And now what do they ask me to do, Corin? They ask me to keep an eye on the drug stash. They know that I get a little cranky when I have chardonnay. They know I’m not going to touch the blow, or the blizz, or the weed cigarettes. But now I have the unenviable task of keeping these fucking drug fiends out there away from the stash so it lasts a while. There are no more drugs, Corin. What we’ve got is what we’ve got. No pens, no powders, no leaves, no flowers. We’re not getting any more, okay? So we’ve got to let everyone down real easy. Did you see that, Corin? Half of your damn shareholders just stiffened up knowing that they can’t smoke their jazz herbs every day for the rest of the apocalypse. Their buttholes just got real tight, Corin. And look at that guy. He’s fucking itchy just at the thought of not having any nose sweets. This is real great for me, Corin. Just dealing with a bunch of drug addled people looking for their fix. People that you got addicted. And you know I can’t leave anyone else in charge of the stash. Not even Derek. He’ll do all the drugs, Corin. I left him at the stash for five minutes and I bet he’s done half of the stuff already. In fact, the longer I’m here talking to you, the less drugs we’re going to have because my idiot assistant has a serious meeblebock problem. That’s not even a drug we have here, Corin. He is so fucked when the sweats start, and you know who’s going to have to take care of him? You know who’s going to have to breastfeed him back to health? It sure as shit isn’t you, Corin. It’s me. I’m going to have to change his bedding when he soils himself, and what thanks do I get for any of this? None. No thanks. No thanks for Dennis. Maybe I should do the drugs, Corin. Maybe I should just stick my face in there and just snort, smoke and swallow, and inject until I’m a fucking vegetable. Then I won’t have to deal with this garbage. The apocalypse? Go fuck yourself, Corin. Go fuck yourself.
Corin: I’ll let you get back to the stash.
Dennis: Thank you.
Corin: Hey, Dennis.
Dennis: What?
Corin: Thank you.
Dennis: Oh, go fuck yourself, Corin. Go fuck yourself. I deserve better than this shit.
Titus: Come in, Corin.
Corin: Yep. Go ahead.
Titus: I have determined that the end is not due to lack of cheese. There’s still plenty of cheese up here.
Corin: That’s not even on my list of possibilities. Can you look into electromagnetic pulses or superstorms? Maybe global warming?
Titus: I’m on it, Corin. Just as soon as I sample some more cheese.
[[Landlike]]
Shareholders, I have just received a note from my grandfather. If you’re a new shareholder, then you should know that my grandfather wrote me a lot of letters before he died to cover a wide variety of contingencies. This one is titled “The Apocalypse”. He writes, “Well, Corin, it was bound to happen, wasn’t it. The end of the world. And you were bound to cause it. I didn’t, and my predecessors didn’t either, so we were due. Don’t feel too bad sport. Everything was always headed this direction. In this letter, I’ve included a key. It opens a lockbox in storage 38-99-A in the bunker. There’s a bottle of DarkMegaScotch in there. Toast the world for me, would you? Also, if the apocalypse is anything like those months I spent underground in the seventies researching our internal clocks and how Evil they are, then it’s important to put on pants every single day. Every day, Corin. You promise me. Every day. If you don’t, that’s when the problems start. Put your pants on. Even when you don’t want to. You have to. Every day. Every day. Love ya, kiddo.” Well, I’m wearing pants now. Advantageous start, I guess.
Let’s take a listen outside again.
([Not so terrible sound] Something silly, like a carnival or something. Geese. Laughter.)
That doesn’t sound right.
The Division of Incredibly Boring things is still at work, shareholders. This is one of my favorite divisions. They’re always doing such interesting things. Well, not interesting. The opposite, actually–
([Noise 1])
Corin: Who is it now?
Svetlana (MASHA): My name is Svetlana. I work for DarkMegaKGB.
Corin: Ah. New shareholders, the DarkMegaUSSR is one of our rivals. But their leader took almost everyone and started a colony on Mars.
Svetlana: It is the reddest of planets. Even if Vodya was a bit misguided in his desire to get there so soon. He has left some of us behind on Earth to continue bringing collectivized Evil to the world.
Corin: So why did you call? Are you going to take credit for the apocalypse?
Svetlana: This is just like you capitalists. You think that it is always competition and that person who goes biggest wins. And it is your short sightedness that brings us to this mess. This apocalypse. Communist Evil would last a hundred thousand generations. No History. No social unrest. Just Evil. But you, and your consumption, and your need to exploit every one of Earth’s resources in pursuit of shiny things, you have gone too far. Capitalism has done this, and now there is no one left to do Evil to. No one left in gulag. No one left in frozen wastes. All is wasted.
Corin: You think capitalism did this? I mean, sure. Why not. We’ll take the blame.
Svetlana: Short sighted as always.
Titus: Corin, I did some looking into the weather patterns.
Corin: Forget about that for a minute. Did capitalism cause the apocalypse?
Titus: Ah, Capitalism? Well… That’s a tricky one, Corin. I am not economist. Hold on.
(Titus makes nibbling sounds)
Titus: Well, Corin, I’ve just chewed some bark here. I can detect notes of runaway capitalism, notes of financial oligarchy, a hint of cronyism, and a lot of greed, but no, Corin. Capitalism may have helped, but it’s not the root of the problem.
Corin: Do you hear that Svetlana?
Svetlana: In that case, we will take credit for the apocalypse. Thank you for conceding, Mr. Deeth. It has made our job much easier.
([noise 2])
Corin: Oh, fuck.
Corin: Okay, Titus, tell me what you’ve discovered about the weather patterns.
[Wind]
Titus: Okay, here goes: It    is windy.
(pause)
Corin: That’s it?
Titus: This wind did not cause the apocalypse.
Corin: Then find out what did!
Titus: Ah, yep. That’s the point, Corin. Working on it. Titus out.
[STOP Wind]
Corin: This is getting pretty frustrating.
[[Equivocacy]]
Now to try to perk us up, I am joined by Francine Drow to talk with us about Euthanasia options. Wait, that doesn’t sound pleasant at all.
Francine (JESSIE): It most certainly isn’t, Corin, but we have to have this conversation.
Corin: I suppose I agree. We have to make sure that we have mature conversations about things like this.
Francine: And we also don’t want anyone making a fucking mess all over the bunker for everyone else to see and clean up. We understand, you know. This is all terribly depressing and the desire to leave it all behind is not difficult to empathize with. Why, I’m thinking about it right now myself. And that’s why we’ve decided to set up safe, sanitary, and most importantly, tidy ways of ending it all. The last thing we need is brains all over the fucking walls, or gallons of blood staining the floor for the rest of eternity. We also don’t want your bowels releasing anywhere other than the designated areas for that. It’s really about morale.
Corin: Morale?
Francine: Obviously. If we have a bunch of corpses piling up everywhere, and leaving remnants in the most difficult to clean nooks and crannies, then it will have a seriously negative effect on morale. People cannot be content in those circumstances.
Corin: So what do you recommend?
Francine: Well, we have a variety of ways to take you out for good that are far more agreeable than leaving yourself hanging like a flag, waving for all to see. We have drugs and a variety of painless poisons. And best of all, the emotional impact you have on the rest of us is far less with these methods. We can’t stop you from doing it, but we can ask that you not make it a whole thing, you know?
Corin: Do you have anything hopeful to say after all of that?
Francine: No matter how you die, we will harvest your sperm or eggs if you have any and use those to make more people in the future. We just can’t lose the genetic diversity.
Corin: I’m not sure that’s all that hopeful.
Francine: Did I forget to smile?
Corin: Thank you for joining us, Francine.
Let’s check in with the sounds outside to see how things are progressing.
[4](More terrible sounds)
That’s about what I expected.
[[Overt Operation]]
[Fire]
Titus: I have another update.
Corin: Go ahead.
Titus: It’s regarding global warming. It is rather warm where I am, but I am inside a burning building.
Corin: Titus, get out of there!
Titus: Don’t you worry, Corin. I’m apocalypse proof, remember?
Corin: Fine. But this isn’t useful information.
Titus: I’m only one man, Corin. I’m doing the best I can.
Corin: Well, keep at it. It seems like we might not figure out the answer to this enormous question before the end of the show here. We’ll have to distribute literature later or something. Or maybe have another show.
Titus: Whatever you think is best, Corin. I’m going to have another beer in the meantime.
[Can]
[STOP Fire]
They say that Evil once ate one half of each of two babies and sewed them up into one baby. This is Things We’re Taking Credit for Now. New shareholders, this is the segment where we announce that we’re taking credit for Evil things around the world. We definitely did do these things, but it’s not always easy to prove how. Today, we are taking credit for ________, _________, and the apocalypse. I guess I said that one already. If you happen to disagree that we did any of these things, prepare to experience the apocalypse head on. Outside.
X has won the Ruin-A-Life Drawing. As a result, the life of X’s nemesis will be ruined. X has selected Y for this punishment. We spun the Wheel of Misery with an Evil amount of force and it sailed right past apocalypse to land on the space designated for Nonjudgmental. That’s right, from this day forward, Y will be 300% more nonjudgmental. This includes situations where being judgmental isn’t really helping anyone, but also situations where some judgment would actually be a pretty good idea. Like picking your friends and lovers. For Evil Measure, X will be 30% more judgmental. That may take a toll. Congratulations on the win and best of luck.
[[Tautologize]]
And that brings us to the end of the show. No more word from Titus. The apocalypse just happened and now we have to deal with it. Not the best outcome, but Evil perseveres.
[Laser]
Titus: Corin.
Corin: What is it, Titus?
Titus: Well, it’s the apocalypse.
Corin: It is the apocalypse. What about it?
Titus: Do you remember when I told you about that ray that they used to test my apocalypse-proofness?
Corin: I remember thinking that it made no sense.
Titus: Well, this is embarrassing, but it looks like one of the scientists in the lab left the ray on, and it looks like it slipped, so it’s no longer hitting the apocalypse-proof panel on the wall. Instead, it’s hitting a glass of water and being reflected out of the window, where it is hitting the Earth. I believe this apocalypse ray may be causing the apocalypse.
Corin: That is so incredibly stupid.
Titus: I agree, Corin, but you just can’t make this stuff up.
Corin: Well, turn it off.
[Laser Off]
Titus: It is off, Corin.
Corin: And the apocalypse light on my desk turned off. Titus, you ended the apocalypse.
Titus: Are you sure, Corin? I still feel like everything is terrible.
Corin: Oh, it is.
Titus: Nothing makes sense. Everyone is mad at everyone else.
Corin: Yep.
Titus: It feels like democracy is crumbling and no one cares about truth anymore.
Corin: uh-huh. But it’s not the apocalypse anymore. I’ll see you back at work, Titus. Corin out.
Well, shareholders, this is embarrassing. But on the other hand, at least it was us here at Kakos Industries that caused the apocalypse, and not any of our competitors. I suppose we can let you go now. Hopefully your loved ones survived the few hours of apocalypse.
Please tip your bartenders. We will have merch in the back. Have an amazing night. The numbers are next.
[[The Numbers]]
11
22
69
120
220
12
40
440
4
8
76
79
69
69
420
49
42
99
4
4
4
4
I suppose now that everything is back to normal we can take one more listen outside.
[5] (Another terrible sound)
Where the hell did we put that microphone?
[[Kakos Bells with Reverse Reverb]]
[[Potency]]
Kelsey: This special live presentation of Kakos Industries was written and produced by Conrad Miszuk, who is also the voice of Corin Deeth III. The introduction is read by Kitty McCauley, and the credits are read by Kelsey Kemmer, the current thunderdome champion after squashing a fly in there. Special appearance in this episode by Adam Miszuk, Anwar Newton, Rebecca Ryan, Jessie Marie, Masha Zapalova, and Kelsey Kemmer. Please visit KakosIndustries.com for news, extras, and more episodes. There are also transcriptions on the website if you’d like to read along with the Kakos Industries announcements. That’s K-A-K-O-S-I-N-D-U-S-T-R-I-E-S dot com. Please visit store.KakosIndustries.com for merchandise and special offers and get wonderful benefits by becoming a subscription donor at kakosindustries.com/patreon. You can also buy stuff in the lobby! Questions, comments, or a strong desire to collaborate? Drop us a line at [email protected]. If you like Kakos Industries, be sure to rate and review us on your favorite podcasting service, and connect with us on YouTube (YouTube.com/KakosIndustries), Facebook (facebook.com/kakosindustries), Tumblr (kakosindustries.tumblr.com), and Twitter (@KakosIndustries). We encourage fan art and listener participation on all our social media platforms. We’ve recently expanded our social media team, so please visit the website to view their credits and current projects.
Kelsey: Kakos Industries can be heavy sometimes. Try exercising to take your mind off of all of the darkness.
[[Stop Music]]
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nervousbeanhazel · 5 years ago
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Hazels journey through FE three houses so far (spoilers, duh). Long post sorry
Before gettin it in the mail: oh this game looks cool I never finished a fire emblem game before but I want to try this one. Ok let’s see the three houses. Oh I think I’ll go black eagles (thought edelgard was cute), don’t think I’ll do blue lions dimitri s haor is off putting (looks like noodles)
Me , getting the game: ok let’s do more research on the students before I start.... ok well blue lions has the most kids I think are cool, also this Felix guy... I like him I gonna go for you
Pre time skip thoughts: why can’t I recruit people gdi lol (spoiler alert it would of been easier to just raise support, didn’t realize this till two months before the time skip and only managed to recruit one student on skill stats ). I’m really enjoying this game, I love these blue lion kids so damn much. Even you dimitri you grew on me.... wait no the flame emperor can’t be edelgard right ... but at the ball dimitri said he gave her a dagger and the flame emperor dropped a dagger... Oh GoD it’s edelgard sweetheart no.
Time skip happens : oh shit but I haven’t even gotten A support with anyone yet did I fuck this up (I didn’t ) oh god dimitri what happened to you sweetie. WHaT do You mean Dedue is dead? *intensively looks up if he comes back, he does if you do the paralogue for him, I didn’t) Dedue I’m sorry I failed you. Felix how many ways can you part your hair in one hair style it looks ridiculous ... i fucking love it. I love you my son. Totally gonna end game with you
Time skip thoughts : ok so can’t recruit anyone now obviously, oh shit I never did the mission that unlocked the two merchants... well shit now I can’t get them . Ok these fights are getti pretty good, dimitri god you’re starting to scare me sweetie calm down ...please, oh god he’s going insane he’s literally going insane. Oh wow Felix looks so much like his dad.... this guys gonna die isn’t he. Well he’s dead , saving dimitri , wow that’s kinda sweet. But are you really gonna only speak to dimitri in your dying moments , nothing for Felix? Really? Ok well at least dimitri calmed back down , was worried about you my son.... if I wasn’t end gaming with Felix I may of went for you . But I’m not replying the whole blue lions route just for you, I’m sorry. Oh shit here it is choosing who to spend my life with FELIX I’m coming for you
Final boss fight with edelgard : fuck this game , why is this so hard, fuck off, how did anyone fucking beat this fight, you know what I’m done for tonight . Over night I think ofa strategy that just might work... ok so send someone to kill the mage so the rest retreat that helps with some of the areas I got stuck. Ok so I’m gonna leave some units by the stairs to deal with the people there and stop spawning... ok the rest of my stronger units were gonna go on the left side the whole way up, only one monster to fight, least amount of fighters. Ok good I’m finally farther than I was . Oh man the units at the stairs are starting to overwhelm the units I left there ok so let’s have them retreat and coax them as far as possible from edelgard so when these units die they have a lot farther to go to get to me by the time I get to her. Ok well all those units are dead, the units I sent to the left are starting to fall one by one but there aren’t many enemies in the way. Well ok it’s just me and dimitri left let’s fucking go to edelgard , this probably won’t work but hey why not. I at least got a half decent plan to get to her I just need to optomize it if this doesn’t work. *gets several very lucky misses of edelgards attacks and lucky hits that drain two of her health bars ... then a third and I’m freaking out because one health bar is all I need, meand dimitri are half health and all those units I coaxed to the other side of the map are now in range, if I don’t kill her this round I’m dead... HOLY FUCK I WON?! Oh thank fucking god this was my ninth try . Oh Felix’sis such a tsundere even when proposing god I love him so much.... wow finally the route is over... ugh not sure if I want to play through the whole thing again but let’s try new game + and joint another house, let’s do golden deer this time they were the ones I neglected the most I want to know this meme crew. Time for a break... well least I know what I did wrong , what people I def need to recruit. And I can cheat a little with the unlocks you can buy. Wish me luck
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whatdoyouthinkmyjobis · 6 years ago
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Hunters on the Hellmouth
masterlist
first chapter
previous chapter
TW: Inspired by events in BTVS 7.16 “Storyteller” and BTVS 7.22 “Chosen.” Discussions of miscarriage and abortion. Here’s a cheat sheet for keeping track of the Potentials.
Chapter 41: The Witch
DAY 1
Giles had seen Buffy’s heart break many times, but when Dean disappeared mid-kiss, Giles knew this time she might break in two.
Go to her. Go to her. Despite the urging of his heart, Giles did not break from the crowd gathered on Buffy’s front stoop. Shame froze him. He had been afraid to chase her when she had withdrawn weeks ago, apparently burdened by her secret pregnancy. Afraid to ask. And when the whole house had turned their backs on her, he’d gone along with them.
There Buffy stood -- barely a day post-demon possession -- suddenly alone.
Go to her. Go to her.
Dawn brushed past Giles and the Potentials to hold her sister’s hand and whisper in her ear.
Buffy, dry-eyed with her face set firm, turned to them and said, “Let’s hit the books. We need to focus on Caleb.”
“Excuse me?” asked Dani. “Dean was in charge, and now he’s gone. We should hold a vote.”
“No need,” said Giles, enjoying the flutter of rage across the girl’s face. “Buffy’s in charge.”
“I didn’t hear Dean say that,” she retorted.
“He didn't have to,” said Dawn with her chin held high.
“Buffy’s in charge,” repeated Betje as other voices joined the chorus.
Giles turned back into the house with a knot of Potentials in his wake. He had no idea what to do about Caleb or even if he was still alive after the fire, but Buffy needed focus. He was halfway up the stairs to grab research materials when he came barrelling back, nearly running Spike over.
“Oi! Watch it. Don’t damage the goods,” Spike said, rubbing his chest suggestively.
“It’s you! You’re the key!�� Giles said, eagerly.
“Key? ‘Aven’t ‘eard that in a while.”
Ideas and memories flashed in Giles’ head faster than he could capture them. The First -- Lucifer -- had been chasing them for months because the first creature it had met in this world was Spike. But why did an archangel care about what a vampire thought was important? “The First spent weeks with you. What did it want?”
A twinge around Spike’s eyes betrayed his feelings about that time. “Information. Basic Sunnydale Who’s Who and What’s What.”
“But did it try to get in you? Read your mind or possess you?” Gabriel and Castiel had traveled through dimensions in their vessels; Lucifer had not.
“Night I ran into it ‘twas just a light, but it shot through me, jumped out looking like ‘er,” he said, pointing at Buffy as she entered the house.
“Got an idea?” Buffy asked. She still held her sister’s hand while Xander and Anya flanked her.
“Vessels,” said Giles. “It’s literally been staring us in the face this entire time. Lucifer needs a vessel. He wants Sam. He tried Astrid. There are very few options here for demons, let alone an archangel.”
“So he tried to use Spike,” she said with a quiet horror.
“But Spike didn’t give his permission--”
“--so Lucifer was ejected.”
“I ‘ad an angel in me?!” Spike curled his lip in disgust. “Now I need to shower.”
The idea seized Giles, his voice loud as he paced in the foyer. “What if, Lucifer found another vessel? Inferior, but enough to give him some form. Not a vampire because they are already possessed by demons, and obviously not the Slayer.”
“A witch!” Xander exclaimed with a giant smile. “They’re the only other group that can be possessed!”
Dawn raised an eyebrow at him. “You’d think you’d be less excited with your best friend being a witch and all.”
“Not possessable!” he cheered, pointing at himself with his thumbs. “For once, the Zeppo has the superpower!”
“Maybe that’s why he didn’t die,” Buffy muttered.
“What?”
“I, um, I got to Caleb at the winery,” she explained, the tiredness settling into her eyes. “Shoved my sword in and did not take home a prize.”
“I had the same reaction when you stabbed me,” Anya stated proudly, “and that was after Sam shot me in the head.”
“You two,” said Giles pointing at Buffy and Spike, “tell me everything about your interactions with Lucifer and Caleb. We’ll go back through everything again. If we want to kill Caleb, we need to cut off the power source.”
Barely half and hour back in her house without Dean, and between the walls, the air, and the constant jostling of bodies, Buffy was going to explode. “I’m going to check on Will and our new  guests. Dawn, Anya, see if the girls need anything, and I’ll do a supply run.”
“You mean ‘we,’ oh carless one,” said Xander, happily closing his book.
“You, me, and vampire-infested buildings.” She flashed a lucky us grin. Just like old times. “Grab a couple of the better fighters to go with us. ”
Upstairs, she cracked open Willow’s door to find her still sleeping off her possession by Hecate. Buffy sneaked inside, hoping to find a few of Tara’s clothes for Ellen.
Willow stirred and muttered, “Sam?”
Crouching by the bed, Buffy brushed her friend’s hair from her eyes. “Just me.”
“Where’s Sam?” Her voice was soft and small. Tender, sleepy Will without a hint of terrifying goddess.
Buffy smiled tightly. “He came down after you fell asleep.” Willow needed to rest; she would break the news about the Winchesters later.
Jo was considering changing into a skirt when her mother, wrapped in a towel, ducked into the bedroom. “I don’t think anything in here will fit you, Mom.” Jo pointed at the flood-high hem of the jeans she’d put on.
Ellen smiled, a far away look in her eye. “Not sure my skin could handle clothes right now anyway.”
“Aren’t you cold?” Jo had turned the water up as hot as she could, but it still felt icy. The flannel she’d found barely helped.
Ellen nodded and sat on the bed. “Everything just kinda feels… sharp. Hard.”
Jo sat beside her. She knew exactly what her mother meant. Only a little noise from downstairs breached the quiet bedroom, but Jo had felt a roar in her ears since they’d arrived. She remembered holding her own guts in with her hands, growing cold and numb as blood gushed from her body. Her brave mother had offered to set off an explosion to save the Winchesters, their only hope at killing the Devil. Jo didn’t remember the explosion. Then nothing. Only it wasn’t nothing, but she was having a bitch of a time remembering what had happened. Then suddenly they were in someone’s backyard in the blazing sun.
“I died, didn’t I?” Jo whispered.
Ellen squeezed her hand. “We both did, baby.”
Jo let the words dissipate in the air. She couldn’t think about them now. Maybe not even later. So she looked around the room, trying to figure out what sort of person it belonged to.
Brown floral wallpaper and crochet pillows gave it the feel of an older woman’s room. The tangles of cheap jewelry on the dressing table, clothes strewn across the floor, and posters -- reproductions of Waterhouse paintings -- screamed college student.
Then Jo spotted an unbelievable picture from the nightstand. Dean Winchester in sunglasses and a t-shirt, his radiant smile highlighted by the sun, stood on a boardwalk, ocean behind him, with his arms around the blonde they’d spoken to.
“Mom, what was that girl’s name again?”
“Buffy? Bitty? One of those country club names.”
“She doesn’t seem like Dean’s type,” she said, handing the picture to her mom.
Ellen beamed. “They look happy.”
Jo snickered. Dean Winchester was the handsomest, cockiest hunter she’d ever met, and she had spent years pining after him. Nothing obvious. Sneaking glances when he’d come in the bar. Calling every few months to check in on him, his husky rumble making her melt as she kept the conversation light and friendly.
Trouble was, Dean was like most hunters. Emotionally distant. Messiah complex. Can’t-get-close-to-people bullshit. Jo wanted him, but she wanted him to settle down. She wanted his big heart to find a home, to trade in the revolving door of women for one woman who knew his life and his worries.
Even though he had often checked out her ass, Dean hadn’t had the guts to make a move until the day before she died. Even then, knowing it may be her last opportunity to sleep with that beautiful man, she couldn’t bring herself to be a desperate pity fuck.
It took her dying for him to be real with her. She had no idea how long she’d been dead, but his soft, warm lips gently apologizing for her fate as he finally kissed her was practically yesterday.
“Happy? Mom, we’re talking about Dean Winchester. Didn’t you say he was trouble to the core?”
“I said he was troubled. Boy ain’t had an easy life.” Ellen pushed her damp hair back and squinted at her daughter. “I also said he wasn’t for you.”
Ellen wrapped her arm around her daughter, combing her hair with her fingers. It felt familiar and surreal at the same time, like discovering everything in your house had been painted the same shade of sickly pink.
“You okay, baby girl?”
“I will be. I don’t remember living being so exhausting.”
There was small knock at the door before Bitty/Buffy came in with an unconvincing smile on her face. She handed Ellen a green skirt. “I hope it fits. How are you feeling?”
“Pretty damn good for a dead woman,” said Ellen. “That don’t seem to phase you any.”
“Read the book and saw the movie.” The blonde scanned Jo. Her eyes lit up for a brief second when she saw the ill-fitting flannel. “Well, that’s a look. I could see if one of the taller girls has pants you could wear, but pickin’s are slim. Probably best we head to the mall. You can join us if you feel up to fighting.”
Jo did feel like fighting. Something in her felt caged and angry, but she didn’t know why. Although she doubted patrons at a crowded mall would appreciate her need to punch something. “Pants would be great, but cash is not so great.”
“Oh, oh yeah. Quick recap, (because my sister has this whole ‘Welcome to Sunnydale’ speech, and I don’t want to step on her thing): Welcome to Sunnydale, California. This town sits on a Hellmouth, which I guess you call a Devil’s Gate. Lucifer and his minions have driven out the entire town save for a few people on my team. Anyone else who stayed has been turned into a vampire.” She breezed through all of this lightly, as if it was a rundown of what she’d done over the summer.
“So we’re less about the shopping and more about the pillaging supplies from a vampire-infested abandoned mall. Which is where the do-you-feel-like fighting thing comes in. Bobby Singer is downstairs if you have more questions. Let me know in an hour if you want to go.”
Bitty/Buffy stopped her hasty exit when Jo asked, “Where are Dean and Sam? Things are kinda fuzzy, but I swear I saw them.”
“They had to go,” the blonde said without looking back.
Spike was confused. He hated being confused. The Winchesters (and the angels) were gone, caught a feathery red eye to destiny. He’d seen it happen.
But who were the new people?
Granted, he was used to new faces showing up out of the blue, but Potentials were not generally grizzled long-haul truckers. The man was mostly interested in the books and Giles, but he still gave Spike that sleeps-with-a-gun feel that Dean had. By the time Buffy came downstairs with two women who were probably and certainly not Potentials, he was ready for some answers.
Abandoning Giles and his endless questions, Spike followed the three women, Xander, and some Potentials outside. “Where we going?”
Buffy turned to look at him. Suddenly, he was reminded what it felt like to have your heart thrill so much, it forgets its beat. Only a day before, she’d appeared as a demon and beaten him soft. Now, she was practically radiating light.
“You up for some shopping?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Could do with some new boots.”
“So could some of the girls. Plus, Jo and Ellen are going to need some clothes.”
Spike nodded at the mysterious Jo and Ellen. “I’ll drive.” He held up the Impala keys he’d nabbed from the key tray.
Although Spike longed to drive Dean’s Impala since first laying eyes on it, he’d mostly picked up the keys as a gag. Show Buffy the keys. See what she did.
A disproportionate panic swept over her face. Eyes wide, she shook her head in tight nos.
She doesn’t think he’s coming back.
Before Buffy could protest and before Spike could toss her the keys, Xander butted in. “Drive what?”
Buffy crossed her arms. “He thinks he’s driving Dean’s car.”
“Funny,” said the blonde -- Jo or Ellen? “You’re not what I would have expected Dean’s best friend to look like. I mean, he barely let’s Sam drive that thing.”
The stranger scratched at her arm like the very air bothered her and squinted at the sun with disapproval. She had a nervous, trapped energy about her. It felt familiar to Spike.
Xander laughed. “Dean and Spike get along like oil and water if oil and water were trying to murder each other.”
“Yet you’re the one with a Winchester wallop.” Spike pointed at the purple bruise on Xander’s jaw.
“I can fit four.” Xander slinked away, tail between his legs.
Having no desire to stress Buffy out, Spike tossed her the keys. “Just ‘aving a laugh, pet.”
Buffy tenderly held the keys for a heartbeat before handing them to the older woman. “Ellen? We just need to follow the other cars.”
“Sure, honey. Something normal sounds pretty good right now.”
The four of them silently piled into the Impala -- Ellen and Buffy in the front. Jo shooting Spike curious side-eye across the expanse of the backseat. It was mid-April, yet Ellen cranked up the heat.
After a few turns, Buffy cracked her window. “It fades after a while. The cold.”
Jo peeled her dark eyes off of Spike. “What are you talking about.”
“It was warm, wasn’t it?” Buffy sounded far away. “It was warm and quiet. Now everything feels cold and loud and painfully bright. I won’t motivational poster you and say it gets better, but the intensity fades.”
“How do you know?” Jo asked.
“It’s been two years for me,” Buffy replied. “More for Spike.”
Recently resurrected then? Seeing Jo’s twitching discomfort in the daylight had thrown him. Since they knew the Winchesters, they must have been resurrected and brought here by the angels. The trucker-looking fellow was probably the same story. Sam and Dean’s parents? They had never mentioned a sister; although they’d dropped the news of another brother like a bomb only a couple days before.
Jo’s body loosened a bit, as if the intense fight or flight warring in her brain had finally settled on sitting. She looked out the window on the abandoned town. A few buildings here and there had been damaged by vampires, who were no doubt nesting inside during the day, but most were simply abandoned. “A lot of people die here?”
“Part of the human condition,” Spike said. “Only, sometimes it doesn’t take.”
They pulled up to the mall. Ellen, examining the smashed glass doors, said, “Mind if I just play getaway driver? This skirt ain’t exactly made for kickin’ ass.”
Buffy shrugged. “There’s a learning curve, but sure. We won’t be long.”
Buffy issued orders to the small band of Potentials who’d arrived in the two other cars. “There are probably dozens of vampires hiding in there, but lucky for us most of them are asleep. So stay quiet and don’t wander off. We’re in and out. Remember,” she said, handing a stake to Jo, “anyone who’s not us gets a stake through the heart.”
With a small grin, Jo twirled the stake in her fingers. “A stake? Next you’re going to tell me they’re repelled by garlic and crosses.”
“They are,” said one of the Potentials, eagerly.
“I just feel extra stabby today, though,” said Buffy.
“I can get behind that,” Jo muttered.
Inside, there was a shoe store immediately to their right. Buffy pointed at Xander and his carload to break off while she led Jo, Spike and the rest to The Gap.
With no concern for style or sizes, everyone began to shove clothes into their bags. Jo was pulling jeans from the shelf when a man walked out of the dressing room.
“Want to try something on?” he asked with a hungry smile.
Buffy lept between them. One, two kicks in the face. Suddenly, he was snarling and yellow-eyed. Buffy hooked his head with her heel, yanking him to the ground. She plunged the stake into his heart.
Jo seemed most surprised when the vampire turned to dust.
“Makes clean up easy, doesn’t it?” Spike whispered in Jo’s ear. “Think we got time to hit up the food court?”
DAY 2
Dean rolled over, seeking out Buffy’s warmth, and curled his body around hers. His morning hardness grew firmer as he pressed against her backside. Barely awake, he nibbled her neck, his fingers stumbling to find a way under her pajamas.
Buffy sighed, “We don’t have time, baby.”
“I miss touching you.”
“You don't want to be late for our big day.”
Everyone in the Winchesters’ apartment was up just before sunrise. Buffy could feel the reason for her sleeplessness flipping in her stomach and pounding behind her eyes. With barely a word between them, the group stumbled to Dean’s Impala and drove back to the Summers’ house.
Willow sat on the back porch with a steaming mug of coffee in her hands. Dean’s family and Dawn headed inside while Buffy grabbed a chair by her friend.
“Here to rouse the troops? We’re fresh outta bugles.”
“Nah. Let ‘em sleep.” Buffy had pushed them to the breaking point the last time they attacked Caleb, and they still failed. A few more hours of sleep wouldn’t be the deciding factor next time.
“Feeling better, Will?”
“You mean, do I not feel like I’m made of lightning, or am I okay with this being the vessel for the goddess of witchcraft thing?”
“The former, the latter will be...latter.”
“Just Willow here. Singular and non-floaty.” She gulped the last of her coffee and stared at the bottom of the cup, divining nothing. “I think that happened before. The vessel gig.”
The only time Buffy had seen anything close to that was when black-eyed, veiny, dark Willow tried to destroy the world after Tara’s death. She hoped that wasn’t one of Hecate’s faces.
“Remember the night Dawn was attacked in the house, and Lucifer came to me dressed up as Tara?”
Buffy nodded.
“I blacked out. Whited out? The last thing I remember was this growing light. Then I woke up in a burned circle of grass. I had no idea what happened, but I think since Lucifer was trying to get me to kill myself, Hecate came to my rescue.”
“Maybe that’s why he targeted you?”
Willow’s doe-eyes were heavy with thought. “Maybe. I’m not sure how I feel about housing something the Devil is scared of. That’s not usually the plot in a rom com or plucky musical.”
With a sleeping goddess in her and her boyfriend capable of hosting an archangel, this was the only topic that could direct Buffy away from her concern for Dean. “Maybe don’t think of it as being taken over. What if Hecate is like Cinderella, and you’re her slipper?”
“No one wants to grow up to be the shoe in that story.”
Buffy shrugged. “More terrible metaphors are in the works. They’re my favorite past time as of yesterday.”
Willow eyed her with a frown. “You miss him?”
Snuggled in his t-shirt in his bed, she’d lain awake reminding herself Dean was the best hunter alive. Alive. The few moments she managed to sleep, she had dreamed of his fingers in her hair, his breath tickling her skin. “Of course!”
“‘Cause you guys were kinda on the outs for a while, then one possession and you’re back to being joined at the hip.”
Buffy picked at some flaking paint on her chair, and mulled over how much she was willing to expose. Everyone save Giles was probably just as confused, but her pain wasn’t a balm to soothe a itch of curiosity.
“I was going through something, and I didn’t know how to talk with him about it.”
“You know who is always up for a talk? Your neighborhood Willow, located conveniently down the hall. We’ve been through a ton of stuff, Buffy. I don’t understand why you didn’t think you could talk to me.”
Willow liked Buffy’s relationship with Angel when it was a crush, but had turned against it and her once it became deadly serious. Her friend didn’t understand how being alive again was a curse and how that despair drove her to Spike. How could she expect Willow, in the midst of both mourning and sorting out her sexuality, to carry any of the pregnancy weight?
“I don’t think we fixed us,” Buffy said.
“What?”
“You went dark, Willow. Really dark. By the time you came back, Dean and Sam were here, and it felt easy to just move on. I did the eggshell walk for a little bit, but mostly I was wrapped up in Dean. Maybe I never got off the eggshells, because it didn’t feel right to dump this on you.”
Tears welled in Willow’s eyes. “I know we can’t go back. I can never make it up to you--”
“You don’t have to make up!” Buffy grabbed her friend’s hand and squeezed. “What we need is time. You and me. Maybe Xander, but definitely you and me. Hey, how about we do some sort of road trip, huh? The three of us? After we bag the Devil, the girls deal with things while we have much needed friend time.”
Willow nodded and offered a weak smile. “Will you ever tell me what happened?”
“Later. Now is for coffee,” Buffy said as she headed inside.
Bobby was used to research. Piles of yellowing books, strong coffee, and a sore back were his preferred methods of learning. Much better than the knock-in-the-teeth experience style. Although, Andrew and Dawn’s “Welcome to Sunnydale” basement conference has been some of the most informative hours of his life.
For instance, everyone was making their fight harder by not differentiating demons from monsters. Anya -- defensive in a way that people with secrets are -- had insisted that a creature born on earth and with no dealings with the soul or Hell was still a demon. Bobby had some theories he wanted to test before he took her word. He’d picked up from Andrew’s nervousness and constant invocation of heroic stories that the boy felt he needed to redeem himself for something. Dawn’s swings between pride and shame when talking about her sister -- Buffy the Vampire Slayer -- had tipped him off that something was wrong. Later, when Buffy gently insisted they all travel back to the Winchesters’ apartment at night instead of staying in her own, or one of the nearby houses, made it evident that everyone in that house had betrayed her.
Recently.
Bobby would get to the bottom of everything eventually, but first, he had to survive the Apocalypse. As luck would have it, he had a book for that.
While Bobby knew better than anyone that this fight turned fresh-faced kids into battle-scarred husks faster than anything, he struggled to call anyone in the Summers’ house an adult. Anyone but Giles.
Thankfully, Bobby didn’t have to venture far into the house before finding Giles. Propped over a book at the dining table, the Watcher was either completely engrossed or had fallen asleep. With only the smallest twinge of guilt for robbing Giles of his respite, Bobby tossed a book on the table, causing Giles to jump in his seat. Asleep.
“Rough night?” Ellen asked, settling into the chair beside Giles.
Giles rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Relatively calm until the screaming began around three. A couple of the girls had rather vivid nightmares.”
“Don't know why,” said Jo, picking up a book and making a face. “Lucifer is out to get them. No big deal.”
Ellen snatched the book from her hands. “Coffee, Little Miss. Get some for Bobby, too.”
For a second, Jo’s face flushed with teenage exasperation before she headed to the kitchen.
Redirecting her attention, Ellen asked, “Where are the girls now?” She glanced at the knot of girls lounging around the living room. “The screaming ones?”
“We moved them to Buffy’s room so they’d stop disturbing the others. I haven’t heard them in a while, so I assume they’re still asleep.” Giles checked his watch. “Is that really the time?”
“Sorry, Rupert. We thought we’d get right to business today.” Ellen offered an apologetic smile. “Speakin’ of, point me at those girls when they’re up. I don’t understand a lot about wherever the hell we are, but I’m sure mothering is still the same.”
A small smile broke free on Giles’ lips. “No doubt they need that. Some of these girls haven’t seen their families for six months.”
Bobby cleared his throat. “The squeaky blond boy said they’re here because they're the next vessel for Artemis, who is currently asleep inside of Buffy, and that’s why she’s a super-powered vampire-killing machine. Right?”
Giles nodded. “In short.”
Bobby pushed the slim book he’d dropped on the table toward Giles. He’d gotten it from a book dealer probably two decades before, as a ‘thank you’ for saving her son from a poltergeist. The book, Huntress Bound by The Order of the Oracle, contained a ludicrous story about how the goddess of witches captured and enslaved the goddess of the hunt. It was warped from years of propping up the nightstand in Bobby’s bedroom. “Archangel Asshole insisted I bring this.”
Giles was agape as he flipped through the pages, muttering, “Yes,” over and over. Finally, he looked up. “Bobby, are you any good at research?”
“Good at it? My research is the only thing that’s been keeping those idjits alive all this time.”
DAY 3
She straightened his tie. Dean looked even more impossibly handsome in his grey three-piece suit. His mossy green eyes sparkled in the late morning sun. Would it be bad luck to kiss him now?
“You are beautiful,” he said, skimming his hands over her waist and down her hips. The sequins on her gown clattered under his fingers.
“You don't think it's too much?”
“You're perfect.”
Holding hands, they turned to look at the ivy covered church. It was now or never. “Ready?” she asked.
Dean flashed his machete in reply.
Buffy kicked in the doors.
Buffy unlocked the apartment door. Sunnydale was only occupied by her people and vampires, but locking the door felt good.
She had been itching to patrol. Fresh air. Time alone. Violence. She didn’t need to go far from the apartment. Though they turned it off at sunset, the generator on the roof was a rumbling call that tasty humans lived inside. She’d dusted six vampires just on her street, each kill softening the anxious needles in her brain. Maybe tonight, she wouldn’t have that nightmare again.
She tiptoed into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before bed, only to find Jo with a bottle of whiskey, pictures scattered around her on the floor.
Gently, Buffy removed the whiskey from her hands, and gave Jo a bottle of water. “Rough day?”
“I wanted to know if getting drunk felt the same.”
“Does it?”
“Feels pretty good.” Jo grinned at her. “I’m not usually a mess like this, I swear. But I come back from the dead to ‘The Pantheon Realm’ where my friend is dating ‘a slayer’ which totally sounds like something he would have killed when I was alive.” She used finger quotes around her words. “Although my life did involve cities laid to waste by Lucifer and his demons, so at least one thing’s consistent.”
“You think I’m a monster?”
“No! But you’re freaking me out! Everything is familiar, yet not familiar. Bonus! Now that I’m alive again, it looks like I’m going to die. Blaze of glory round two!”
Buffy understood. Heaven was rest. Hell was coming back to a fate-packed to-do. “You’ve been alive for three days. If you want to stay here tomorrow and chill, that’s fine. Maybe drive off into the sunset? You don’t have to help fight Lucifer.”
“Hey, I died helping fight Lucifer!” Her eyes were ablaze as she pointed at Buffy. Soon, she slumped back against a cabinet and ran her finger over the pictures of the floor. Jo chuckled and held a picture too close to Buffy’s face. “What is this?”
It was from Buffy and Dean’s vacation to San Francisco on Halloween. They’d stopped to watch a parade where a drag queen was affronted by their lack of costume. The queen’s solution was to dump a bag of hot pink glitter on Dean. In the picture, Buffy was laughing as he tried to rub the glitter on her. It was Sam’s favorite picture, and he made sure it was prominently displayed on the refrigerator.
“On Halloween, Dean and I took a little vacation--”
“That! That crazy, opposite day stuff is what I’m talking about.” Jo’s voice was loud and slurred. “‘Went on a vacation’, with Dean Fucking Winchester? He’s not the guy anyone goes on vacation with! He’s the guy who finds you crying in your beer after your boyfriend dumps you on vacation. He’s the guy who promises you one night of great sex before running away from any feelings he may have stirred up. Dean Winchester is much more interested in sluts than girlfriends.”
Dean had barely talked about Jo. Ellen yes. Bobby at length. Jo got short statements. She was “a kid” who was “in over her head.” “Somethin’ to prove.” He’d spoken of her death once.
Yet, on more than one occasion, Lucifer referred to Jo and Dean in much more intimate terms. Buffy hated it when they’d had to discuss her relationship with Spike, so she never asked about Jo. She was the past. She was buried.
“Sounds like you spent a lot of time with him,” Buffy replied.
Jo waved her bottle of water dismissively. “I’m happy for him. I am. God knows that man needs more people than Sam.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s just that...well...I don’t have superpowers. Is that all it took to get noticed?”
Buffy’s heart broke for Jo. Jo, ripped from death to be dealt a crappy life. Aching from the newness and unfairness of it all. Pining for the right man met at the wrong time.
“Will you girls quit yer snivlin’ and git to bed?” growled Bobby from the couch.
DAY 5
Their friends and family waited quietly in the pews while the choir of Potentials sang:
    There are many here among us
    Who feel that life is but a joke
    But you and I we've been through that
    And this is not our fate
    So let us not talk falsely now
    The hour's getting late.
At the head of the church stood Caleb in his vestments, clapping along with the music. With each slap of his hands, one of the Potentials exploded in a puff of blood. He was flanked by a pus-pocked corpse on a fly-riddled green horse and a white robed creature with huge black wings astride a pale horse.
Pestilence charged them. Buffy grabbed the bridle and swung up, kicking the rider off. “I got him. Go!” Dean shouted as she galloped toward the priest.
Death was missing.
“Do you think this is far enough from the house?” Anya asked, tightening her grip on her axe. “You said you burned stuff that one time.”
“Because my life was being threatened by an archangel. This is just a friendly chat between frenemies,” Willow said. “Besides, I’m much more concerned about the vampires.”
At an intersection down the street, she and Buffy sat holding hands inside of Hecate’s symbol drawn in sand. According to the books, the goddess could be summoned under a full moon with appropriate sacrifices of food; they were surrounded by bottles of wine and honey bears.
Snarls drifted past the double ring of Potentials surrounding them.
The idea was that Buffy’s spirit would be able to use Willow’s vessel state to call Hecate. Then Buffy just had to convince the resentful, former friend of the goddess within Willow that she hadn’t been betrayed, and maybe she could use her powers to help a little. “Easy peasy,” Buffy grumbled.
Willow began, “Hecate! Crone Goddess of the Moon! Power, great power. Grant me this boon.”
One of the Potentials stepped back, knocking over a candle.
“Give us some room, girls! This could get weird...er.”” Buffy righted the candle and wiped some warm wax from a honey bear. “I hope mildly melty is still goddess approved.”
“Half step out!” Jo shouted. The group shuffled.
Willow tried again. “Mistress with three faces, I accept my role. Lead me to the path. Your name writ on my soul. Hi, it’s Willow Rosenberg again. Remember? You were in my body a week or so ago yelling at some --”
Everything went deathly silent. Before Willow’s eyes, the Potentials transformed into gnarled black trees. Mist and moonlight shot through their twisted branches. Buffy, still in her meditative pose, crumbled into an ash heap; in the middle of the ashes, lay a single golden pebble.
Willow didn’t dare to breathe.
The glow of a light appeared to her left. A naked, torch-bearing figure stepped out from behind one of the trees. Her skin was as dark as the night and freckled with stars. She phased in and out of three faces -- one screaming, one old, and one calm. Her pearl eyes fixed on Willow.
“You have summoned me more than any other vessel.” Her voice was musical and animal. A whisper and a cry.
Willow wasn’t sure how to respond. Hecate hadn’t asked a question, and Willow wasn’t sure if the declaration was surprised or annoyed. Willow bowed her head to the ground, arms open wide in reverence, and waited.
A chill snaked from the top of Willow's head to the tips of her toes.
“Rise, girl. What do you want?”
Willow stood, but didn’t dare look up. “Lucifer is here. His brother Michael is coming.”
Hecate lifted Willow’s chin with her hand, forcing her to look in her glowing eyes. “Why does this worry you?”
“They’re going to destroy the world.”
“Not the whole world. Only part.”
Fear rushed out of Willow’s body. “Only part! Only! Part! Do you hear yourself?”
“My concerns are not human concerns. The world is ancient. It burns and floods and freezes in the span of my heartbeat. The world will change, but I will remain.”
“Why do you think the angels would leave you alive?” Willow asked. “Lucifer is trying to wipe out Artemis’ vessels. Why not yours next?”
Something like surprise flitted over the goddess’ calm face. “I am witchcraft itself. I will remain.”
“Oh, you got an army up your, uh -- No sleeves, okay. Have you been busy calling all witches? Huh? No, you haven’t. Meanwhile, Artemis is still locked up and --”
“Do not speak to me of the Huntress!” Hecate thundered. The stars on her skin grew as if they might supernova with her rage.
Willow put her hands on her hips. “Artemis was your friend.”
“The Huntress was closer to me than a sister. She turned her back on me! How could a mortal like you understand the pain of that break?
Willow didn’t just remember skinning Warren. She remembered trying to kill Buffy. Trying to kill Giles. And those memories haunted her with each hug, each encouraging word, each smile. “I know how rare true friends are. I know every moment of pain is worth it.
“My friends and I are prepared to fight the angels, but we haven’t even been able to get past his creepy priest groupie. But we’ll keep fighting. We’ll die fighting. Saving the world is worth it.”
The calm face did not change. “Then I shall again prepare myself to search for another vessel.”
An idea popped into Willow’s head. “Why me? Why are you using me as your vessel?”
“You had the potential to be the strongest witch in the world. A lesser witch could not contain me.”
Hecate was eternal. Witches may live long lives, but not that long. Besides, Willow was born in the 80s. “What happened to your vessel before me?”
“He...disappointed me.”
“Did he have a name?”
Hecate blew out her torch and stepped back into the rapidly shrinking trees. “Gregor Skrivanek.”
Buffy, in a meditation pose across from Willow, looked at her quizzically. “Gesundheit?”
There was a twang and a wizz as one of the girls fired a crossbow. “If we’re finished being freaky, I’d kinda like to go back inside,” said Jo.
DAY 9
Before she reached the steps to trample Caleb, Buffy tumbled and bounced down the rest of the aisle. Her horse had turned into a toy. Likewise, she was small and limp, unable to move on her own. Caleb, scooped her up in his giant hands. “Did you think this was about you?”
He turned her toward her friends and family. With the snap of his fingers, they were ablaze. “Did you think you could save them?”
“The blame is on me,” he continued. “I let that vampire’s obsession with you trick me into thinking you mattered, but you don’t. You’re empty. You try to fill it with school, with shopping, with any man who is desperate enough to fuck you, but you’re a little doll who needs other people to pose her.”
He turned her away from him, toward Death at the end of the aisle, his scythe and robes spattered with blood, and dangling from his hand -- Dean’s head.
In a weird way, it was comforting to have all the Scoobies gathered around the dining table researching monsters. Almost homey, if it was even possible to feel at home in her own house again. Of course, Buffy’s semi-fond memories of high school slaying didn’t involve Spike sitting next to her as they researched monsters, or Andrew Wells fiddling with a camcorder. They didn’t involve researching how to kill a human either.
Xander’s eyes were practically cartoon hearts locked on Ellen as she replaced his empty plate with a second helping of sloppy joe, cornbread and green beans. “You’re just the most amazing, Ellen.”
Smiling, she tousled his hair before checking on the Potentials in the other room.
Xander ravenously tucked into his food.
“Xander, you got a little.” Dawn wiped at the corner of her mouth.
Anya glanced at the sauce smeared on Xander’s face. “It's just pride.”
Xander mock laughed before taking a giant bite of cornbread.
“It’s been a long, dark time since we’ve had seconds,” Andrew declared, zooming his lens in on Xander. “But Ellen knows all sorts of recipes. Tomorrow, she’s going to teach me to --”
Dawn paused from note-taking. “Andrew, what are you doing?”  
“I’m making a documentary of our gallant heroes. My redemption arc heavily features. I’m, like, the Vader of the group.”
“Don’t show interest, or he’ll think you care.” Anya slammed her book closed. “Why can’t we just set him on fire again?”
“I don’t want to be on fire,” replied Andrew, meekly.
“Not you. Caleb,” she clarified. “Fire is the traditional, time-respected way to off a witch.”
Willow scrunched her face in disgust. “One, I’m generally not a fan of the burned-at-the-stake scene. Had a close call once. A singeing, if you will. Two, I have a theory--”
Buffy tuned out while Willow explained again. The goal was to kill Caleb, but to kill him, they had to return him to a much more human state. When Dean had asked her if she was ready to kill a person, she’d bristled. While it wasn’t the Slayer’s job to deliver justice in the human sense, Caleb had clearly chosen the path of evil. She’d plunged her sword in him without hesitation. However, in light of Willow’s plan, Buffy couldn’t help but wonder if Caleb -- once separated from the archangel controlling him -- could be saved. Was he simply another victim of Lucifer?
Ellen drifted back into the room, her eyes on the windows. She sucked on the insides of her cheeks when she was nervous, and she’d been nervous ever since Jo, Bobby and Giles left town two days ago to follow some leads.
“Has she called?” Spike asked, gently reaching out to touch Ellen’s arm.
Ellen smiled and patted his hand. “A few times. Thought they’d’ve been back by now.”
“Don’t tell him I told you,” Spike lowered his voice to a whisper, “but stodgy ol’ Giles is right decent in a fight. She’s in good hands if it comes to that.”
Before Ellen could respond, the Impala pulled up outside. She smiled at Jo, still in her bland detective suit, coming up the walk with the Winchester's green cooler. Buffy recognized the relieved mom look. Ellen was doing a good job not steamrolling everyone between her and her daughter’s embrace.
Jo arrived with a triumphant smile. “Not even rusty.” She handed her mom the cooler. “Stopped for food before Apocalypse-zone. Got some fresh stuff!”
“Thanks, hon.” Ellen set the cooler on the table and wrapped Jo in a bear hug.
Bobby, tie loose and trucker cap back on his head, set a box of files on the table. “Had a minor setback, but we got it.”
“What happened?” Buffy asked.
“I’m afraid I am not a convincing FBI agent,” Giles said with a sigh. He glared at Andrew. “What is he doing?”
Undeterred, Andrew zoomed in. “Set the scene for us, Giles. You’re sweating bullets in the FBI office, surrounded by men in black who’ve been trained to sniff out a lie. What do you do?”
Bewildered, Giles again looked to the group. “What is he doing?”
“‘E’s keeping calm.” Spike reached into the box for a handful of files. He handed one to Buffy.
“Meet Gregor Skrivanek,” Bobby said. “Box one.”
“Of how many?” whined Anya.
“Three more in the trunk,” Jo said with a smirk.
Anya closed her book and left the room.
“Did you get the mementos we need for the spell?” Willow asked.
“That’s box four.” Jo smiled. “It’s in the backseat. Although they’re less mementos and more burnables.”
“Burning is the goal!” Willow smiled.
Buffy opened her folder, a thick police file from Boston. It contained three coroner reports and photos of three different teenage girls. Two slashed at the throat. One was just a head. All were bloated and distorted from floating in water.
“Get it all,” Buffy said. I’m ready.
DAY 12
On yesterday’s patrol, Buffy had captured a vampire minion and gave him a message for Caleb.
Highway 1 bridge at 10. Alone.
Caleb was cocky. He’d show.
The wind whipped around Buffy as she stood high above the ravine on the bridge headed out of town. She pulled her coat tighter -- not tight enough to outline the ax hanging from her belt -- and passed the time by watching Orion, Dean’s favorite constellation. Willow had told her Orion the Hunter was the only man Artemis loved. (“Later she maybe killed him, but that’s totally not your story! Not a blueprint!”) It was a cute bit of trivia, but it didn’t matter.
Dean was no more Orion than he was Michael’s toy. She was more than a holding cell. If they were anything, they were masters of their own fate.
“You came,” Caleb shouted down the bridge. “I’m surprised after the beating I handed you last time, but then you are an arrogant bitch.”
She bit back a grin. It was almost too easy. “Don’t pretend you know me.”
“Don’t I? Buffy Summers became the Slayer without any training because who would have guessed such a shallow waste of space could be anything? Certainly not her daddy who ran away in terror. Now she tries to fill the hole by spreading her legs for any old guy who shows an interest.”
He smirked at her with the hungry glare of a middle-aged man parked outside a middle school. “People think Lucifer has Daddy issues, but he’s not still trying to gain approval. He can flex his own power.”
“Kind of a crappy story,” said Buffy. “Not very accurate either. I give it two stars, but one of those is a pity star.”
She slowly walked toward him. “Here’s a story I heard recently. About thirty-five years ago, a boy named Gregor was born with the most powerful magic skills history had ever seen. Of course, floating objects over his crib frightened his parents, so they dropped him off at an orphanage. He grew to despise the nuns who ran the place. Conveniently for him, he was the lone survivor of a fire at the orphanage when he was six. By the time he was thirteen, every orphanage and foster home he went to after that found a girl dead within six months of his arrival. He was never tied to the deaths though, because he was using magic.”
Snarls echoed from underneath the bridge. Buffy had expected Caleb to bring backup; although, she tried to not dwell on what could be climbing so high above the ravine.
“Are you trying to appeal to my humanity?” Caleb sneered. “This is more nostalgia than anything.”
Buffy continued. “Murder. Murder. Murder. Always girls. Probably misplaced mommy issues over being given up. But when Gregor turned sixteen, he was caught strangling a girl and sent to a juvenile detention center where he supposedly found God. When he got out, he changed his name and became a priest. And a serial killer.”
“Nice story--”
“I wasn’t finished.” The power of her voice stopped him in his tracks. “If this boy had been a powerful warlock, why did he start choking girls. Why did he get caught?”
Caleb cocked his head to the side, clearly desperate to know.
Two pairs of feet thudded behind her at the entrance to the bridge. She couldn’t deal with them now. Caleb had to be first or the spell wouldn’t work.
“It’s because Hecate cut him off. He was supposed to be her star, her vessel to move about the Earth when needed, but he was too maggot-riddled for her.” Hecate's sense of morality may be different from theirs, but it was clear she held women in higher regard than men.
Shots zipped through the air. Whatever was behind her roared.
With Caleb distracted, Buffy closed the gap between them and slapped him across the cheek, leaving an ashen handprint. The contact of their skin blazed white hot as his body, no longer a vessel, ejected the bit of Lucifer’s grace that could fit inside.
Doubled over on his knees, Caleb growled. “What did you do, you bitch?!”
“Magic,” she replied as she swung her axe down on his neck.
One swing for her. One for Dawn. For Grace. For Vi, Sophia, and every Potential he’d killed. Buffy, whose personal code was to never kill a human, chopped him to bits for every girl he’d murdered.
She spun around. Two Turok-Han were heading up the highway towards the tall trees where Bobby, Jo, and Ellen were perched with rifles and blessed bullets. Bobby had been right. The bullets hadn’t killed the vampires, but they had slowed and distracted Caleb’s minions.   
Buffy took a deep, stuttering breath over the bloody mess in the road, grabbed a chunk of his hair, and tossed Caleb’s head into the ravine below.
“Hey!” she barked. The vampires stopped to consider who to kill first. “Miffed about being shot? Don’t lose your head over it.”
With a running start and two hand springs, Buffy was between them. She twirled her ax above her head. The vampires’ heads popped off, and they crumbled to dust.
Buffy rose. Her grin to the stars. Blood dripping from her ax, from her fingertips.
Bobby and the Harvelle’s stumbled out from the brush.
“Well that went off without a hitch.” Ellen wrapped her arm around Buffy’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze.
“Yeah, Will’s spell turned off his vesselness.” Buffy’s hand had been covered in the ashes of some objects Caleb had owned. After Willow wrote the spell in the ash, all they needed to make it work was skin-to-skin contact.
They all began the trek back to where the Impala was hidden. Buffy resisted the urge to bounce. “God, I wish Sunnydale wasn’t shuttered up. I’d kill for a burger.”
“Nothin’ like the Apocalypse to make you miss the little things,” said Bobby.
Buffy missed one thing that wasn’t so little, but she wouldn’t let her mind drift there. The dream would come again, for sure. Tonight, however, she would live in the moment. She’d beaten back the Devil.
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miss-pearlescent · 7 years ago
Text
The Midas Touch (9/9)
Rating: M
Read Chapter 1 here.
Kai found her sitting pin straight in an old wooden chair. Her hands were clasped tight in her lap as she watched him enter the room.
“Is she going to be okay?” she asked in a voice that matched the “pale ghost” that his mother had mentioned.
He nodded and took a seat at the table beside her. He practically deflated as a deep sigh left his chest. “Look, about what you saw tonight—”
“I can send for a doctor in the morning,” she interrupted. Then she stood and took another boiling pot of water off the fire, which he hadn’t even noticed. She poured some into a cup sitting in front of him, which he hadn’t noticed either. “I couldn’t find any tea, but you should still have something to drink.”
He took it and thanked her, glad to have something warm. “We can’t get a doctor.”
“Why not?”
Kai didn’t want to say it again so he glared in frustration at the steam coming from his cup.
“Has she been seen by a doctor yet?” she asked.
He shook his head solemnly, feeling the dread of failure weighing heavier and heavier on his shoulders. “Only once, many years ago. He said there is nothing he can do.”
“Then you need to find another one.” She said it so simply, because life was simple for a princess.
God, this was all a bad idea.
“We will sleep for tonight. When the sun rises tomorrow, I will call upon one of the royal doctors.” She tapped a finger on her chin and muttered, “I think I know of one who will still work with me.”
Kai set his cup down. “Jinju, we cannot.”
She didn’t back down. “Why not?” she asked again, this time less patient.
“I don’t have the money,” he said plainly, his bare palms head out for her to see.
She merely stared at him. “Kai,” she whispered as she rose and stepped toward him.
He tilted his head back to look up at her, his princess.
All of a sudden, he felt hot tears gather at the corner of his eyes. Her soft hands came up to cup his jaw. “Kai,” she whispered again.
He closed his eyes as the tears rolled down and he shivered as she laid the faintest of kisses between his brows.
“I think you are tired,” she said, pressing her forehead against his. “You are marrying me. Within a week, we will have the money to care for your mother.”
His breath came out in gasps. This was too good to be true. It must have been a dream.
He opened his eyes and stared at Jinju, the girl who defied every convention. The daughter of a king that found a loophole to every problem. The princess who saw a measly bodyguard and chose him to stay with her.
“I hear everyone say that marriage is a business deal, a transaction between two people.” She wiped a tear from his cheek with the knuckle of her pinky. “You protect me and I protect you. I guess we’re lucky we like each other even a little bit,” she said with a shy smile.
Kai’s fingers found hers and promised to never let her go.
-
Five Years Later
Jinju could feel the nerves in her stomach as she changed into her red gown. She’d been wearing a variation of this dress ever since she and her husband had started gambling in the underground gaming hells four years ago. Revisions had to be made whenever they made a big win because that was when Kai felt the most handsy.
Many things had changed in the last few years, but Kai’s love of seeing her in red hadn’t.
After Kai’s mother had passed away a year and a half into their marriage, Kai decided there was no use in staying where they were. Jinju had been in hiding as her father continued to use any upper hand he had to win back the throne. It was smarter to vanish into thin air than walk the streets with a veil covering most of your face.
So Jinju and Kai packed their simple life and rode many towns away.
Things were difficult at first, as Jinju realized was often the case when money didn’t flow from a tap. The only thing that kept her going was her patient husband, who walked her through the basics of farming and who quickly found a source of income through teaching men how to fight.
Out of all occupations, Jinju did not expect Kai to find such an obscure job as that.
But she spoke with the wives of Kai’s students, and the women all had only one qualm about their husbands’ new hobby: the women wanted their own. So Jinju found her own version of Kai’s classes.
During the afternoon lull before women had to be back home to care for the house, or their children, or their husbands, Jinju taught maths and sciences and languages. Despite her classes only touching on the basics of each subject, it was a new world for these women. And Jinju found the worth in her effort whenever a curious woman would bring up her own theories and ideas after classes.
Jinju’s thoughts were interrupted when she heard the click clack of a horse’s hooves. She suppressed a girlish giggle before heading to the window.
Kai had been gone for almost two weeks, travelling back to their old hometown to recruit a past friend who was apparently a stellar fighter and could be an appropriate substitute teacher.
Kai’s fighting classes were popular. So popular that he didn’t have enough time to teach everyone who wanted to participate.
Jinju threw on her cloak at the door and stepped out with a beaming smile. The evening sun lit up her husband’s face so well, he might have been a bronze god for all she knew.
Kai hopped off his horse a few feet away and hurried to plant a firm kiss on her lips. She couldn’t help but throw her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and smothering the both of them.
His moan was like silk to her ears. “I missed this,” he said huskily as he squeezed her bottom.
Jinju squealed and pulled away, knowing they would cause a scene out here if they didn’t stop.
His eyes caught the flash of red under her cloak and his voice somehow got even deeper. “Are you wearing your red dress?”
She nodded eagerly. “Of course. We have work to do tonight.”
He ruffled her hair, a habit he picked up a while ago. Once the sun set, though, and they head to the gaming hell, there would be no more endearing habits.
In front of a poker table, Kai would be watching his opponents carefully with a hand of cards in front of him. Sitting on his lap would be his “Red Mistress”, wearing a full mask and pretending to do nothing but distract Kai with seductive words.
But Jinju was good at probability. She could also easily pick up when a man was bluffing, just like they often did in front of her terrorizing father. And when the chance came, Jinju always knew when to put everything on the betting table.
She didn’t even have to talk during the games. Sometimes it was just a little caress of his calf or fingering of Kai’s lapel, and he knew the message. Put your money in. Call his bluff. Fold.
But all this teasing always caused an uncontrollable amount of sexual tension. At the end of each game, they couldn’t get back home fast enough to tear off their clothes.
And after two weeks of not seeing each other? Jinju wanted to tear Kai’s clothes off now.
He chuckled, as if he sensed her urgency. “Let’s head inside and I’ll wash up before we leave. I have something I wanted to tell you.” He shouldered a large bag that she hadn’t noticed at first.
“Oh?” She had many things to tell him, too. But her curiosity also wanted to know what the bag held. She followed him inside the house.
“I met with your sister and brother-in-law,” Kai said quietly as he set his bag on the dining table in the centre of the room.
Jinju’s throat suddenly closed up and she stopped dead in her tracks.
They rarely talked about her past life. It was easier to forget about it and move on than open up a deep wound. Five years had passed and she hadn’t heard a single word from anyone back home. It was too dangerous to put out her location, but she wished she could know if any of her family members were still alive.
Her mind used to fight between the possibility that her father would either kill himself or her sister if it came down to it. If her sister was still alive...then...
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “What did they say?”
Kai took her by the hand and pulled out a chair for her to sit. “Your father was killed in a raid led by a small militia from across the border. It was unexpected and his guards weren’t ready for the attack.”
“This is recent?” Jinju could feel the tears fighting their way through. She squeezed Kai’s hand because she didn’t want to cry for the death of a man with terrible morals. But he was still her father.
“A year ago.” He squeezed back. “Your sister became Queen.”
The tears leaked out, this time of pride for her older sister. “Good.”
“She’s been looking for you,” he said and leaned his hip against the table. “A guard came after me the moment I stepped foot in the market.”
Jinju bit her lip, checking for any injuries on Kai’s body. She found none. “Is it safe? To go back?”
Slowly, he nodded, as if he knew this would be a lot of news for her. There was no doubt in his eyes: if she wanted to go home, he would make sure it was safe to do so.
The tears were now pouring down her cheeks and she thanked him when he wiped them away. “What about this house? And the classes? You can’t just leave your students, and neither can I.” She needed at least a month’s notice to plan everything out. She couldn’t just leave the wonderful friends she had made in this town, not when they gave her such a purpose in life.
“We don’t have to. We can always come back here. And while we’re gone, I’ll  make sure everyone is kept busy.” He opened up the bag on the table and pulled out books...and books...and more books. “Your sister told me these were your old textbooks. I went to the bookstore owner and got the newest editions of each. She told me to buy a couple of your personal favourites, too.”
Jinju’s hands were shaking with how overwhelmed she was. In this new house, she couldn’t justify buying books upon books with the wages they made. Nor was there enough space for shelves or even the time to read.
“And remember that old friend I was telling you about? The fighter?” Kai was still pulling out books as he spoke, stacking them in neat piles on the table. “He agreed to the deal and should be arriving in three days. He’ll be running only a couple of classes for the next two weeks, but after that, he should be ready to take on the full load.”
He stopped and looked at Jinju. She stared back, awe in her eyes.
“And then we’ll be able to travel back,” he whispered, pulling out the last item in the bag and handing it directly to her.
Jinju found that her eyes were still watering as she took her notebook in her hands, the same one she thought she had lost five years ago, with the pretty little flowers.
“Thank you,” she managed to choke out.
He chuckled deep in his throat and held out his arms. “You act as if I’ve handed you a bar of gold.”
“You have!” She jumped into his arms, suddenly wanting to stay home and be in his arms for an eternity instead of going to the gaming hell.
“No, not a bar.” His laughter reached all the way down to her stomach, a reminder a what she wanted to tell him. “Though maybe just a nugget,��� he said with a playful wink.
She gave him a wink right back. “I have a nugget for you right here.” She pointed at her belly button.
Kai tilted his head to the side, like a confused puppy. “What’s down here?“ he asked, laying a palm on her stomach.
“A baby nugget,” Jinju whispered as she beamed up at him. “You’re going to be a father.”
Now it was her turn to shock him. They had been trying for a baby for a year now, after she calculated that the money they made was enough to care for a baby. Their bedroom habits didn’t change—maybe it happened more frequently, if she had to be honest—but it was always in the back of their heads that they were legitimately trying now.
“I missed my cycle again last week and went to see the midwife.”
“I...” Kai opened his mouth to speak but no sounds came out.
In an instant, Jinju felt her feet coming off the ground and she was suddenly twirling around the room. “Kai!” she squeaked as she gripped his shoulders.
“No more gambling tonight,” he said. “I can’t let Baby Nugget be exposed to such things at such a young age.”
She laughed as he set her back down. “But can we go another day? It’s fun. and I like to wear this.” She opened her cloak just a crack to reveal the red underneath.
Kai groaned. “Whatever you want, little lamb. But right now, I think Baby Nugget would like a sibling.”
“That’s not how things work!” She suppressed her laughter even as he feathered kisses along her jaw, slowly edging her towards the bedroom.
“You and I have made crazier things happen,” he said as he pushed the heavy cloak gently off her shoulders.
THE END
---
Thank you for reading, friends! ;u; This story has been a JOURNEY. I think I wrote it last spring/summer, and I wasn’t even going to publish it even after I had finished it. And when I did, I was very mad at myself because I didn’t like it anymore LOL It was very much a “PUT SOMETHING OUT THERE” vs “IT SUCKS TOO MUCH TO BE OUT THERE” type of situation.
But here we are today.
I’m sorry this last chapter came sooooo late. I had planned since the beginning to write an epilogue but kept putting it off and putting it off because I didn’t want to revisit this story. The characters and plot were just boring and one-dimensional to me. I used to have backstories laid out in my head (back in Nov 2016 when I was first inspired by a book that I had read), but I had forgotten a lot, and now I can only use my vague descriptors from past chapters. For example, what did Jinju’s father do that was so bad?
I have noooooooooooooooooooo idea because I had written this as a simple short story and was never going to explore that idea past what had happened in my head a year and a half ago when I was brainstorming it.
Anyway.
I also felt really bad about taking so long to update all the time...which made me feel even worse about the story...which made me want to update even less LOL My thought processes are vicious. But this is more or less how my brain works and I just have to push through it like I did today by finally writing that damn epilogue. Very glad I did because I was NOT happy with the original abrupt ending.
I love ending stories but I hate getting there! I hope one day I will hit the end of all those 20k-word WIPs that are sitting in my drafts folder from many many many years ago :) :) :) Angel!Kai... DemonSlayer!Kai... MermaidPrince!Kai...
Until then, hope everybody has a happy day ^^
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forsythiias-blog · 6 years ago
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heyy there !! im rachel ( so new to being twenty i keep accidentally saying im nineteen / she & her pronouns / gmt ), and im gonna be bringing this lil serpent bb to life !! i hope y’all like her as much as i do, and if u wanna plot or anything, pls just hit that like !! 
* benedetta gargari, cisfemale, she/her, canon ━━ riverdale’s very own FORSYTHIA PARTHENIA JONES is now nineteen years old. she has lived in town for all of her life, bar a few years break, and pop never forgot her regular ━ fried chicken, chilli fries and a cold nehi on the side. you’ll likely find the student and part time waitress hanging around pops / the speakeasy, probably playing whats new pussycat twelve consecutive times on the jukebox or trying to survive her coursework. her friends on the southside will tell you all about how she’s individualistic, tenacious and morally sound, but others might describe her as loquacious or acerbic. oh well, no matter how you feel about jb / jellybean, you can’t deny that with her debate skills, she’s gonna be one hell of a lawyer someday. you can check out her pinterest board HERE !
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   it's the heat that drives the light, it's the fire that ignites,     it's not the waking, it’s the RISING.
part one of three : bullet point history. trigger warnings for talk of infant health issues. 
im gonna have to uh. ask for forgiveness in advance cause riverdale has nOT given ya girl a lot to work with in regards to jellybean, and the comics are another mess altogether. this is a history steeped in headcanon to flesh out what’s non-existent in canon, which i hope is all ok !!!!!!!!!! 
august fifth, nineteen years ago. it was a sticky autumn night when forsythia parthenia jones entered the world with a pitiful cry - the only daughter of two southsiders, gladys and fp and the younger sister of jughead, she wasn't born to MUCH... which made all that she did have matter all the more. a mother and a father that loved her? check. an older brother she would someday idolize like no other? double check. a small ventricular septal defect, discovered only after her birth? triple check.
forsythia was, it seemed, destined to be a sickly child. her first few months of life were dotted with trips to the emergency room and visits to the family doctor, something always seeming to be wrong. infant colic was ten times worse. she caught a chill when she was two weeks old, and needed to spend a week in icu because of the resulting chest infection. the doctors who treated her at birth had been confident that over time, the hole in her heart - jellybean shaped, on the first ultrasound - would close by itself, as many do. however, it DIDN'T... and as she got older, the effects of this became more and more pronounced. she kept suffering chest infections. she wasn't putting on weight. breathing was, at times, a struggle - and she was sleepier than any baby they had ever known before. the original plan had been to wait and see and hope that forsythia's heart healed. at ten months old, when it became apparent that this wouldn't happen, she had to have a surgery.
your baby is supposed to be perfect. she's not supposed to take ill every few days, and ultimately require open heart surgery. it was likely a very HARROWING experience, and those first few months of forsythia's life were understandably marred... but if there had been any doubts before, it became clearer than day when she came out of surgery that the youngest jones was a FIGHTER, through and through. they'd been prepared for a month long wait to bring her home - it ended up only being a fortnight. she didn't cry, after. she didn't FUSS. it was like she knew the first while had been tough, and was hellbent on making everyone's lives a little bit easier, afterwards. lord knew the jones' needed it, considering the stress of her early months was just ON TOP of the stress of money. 
now affectionately named jellybean after the defect she had survived, she grew to be a remarkably NORMAL child. there were some differences, of course, between her and the kids she grew up with - she required regular checkups, she needed to dress extra warmly in winter, and she always got a bit more wiped out than everyone else - but anyone told the story behind the scar in the middle of her chest gaped in SHOCK. the girl who swung from the lower boughs of the trees at the edge of sunnyside trailer park and sprinted after her friends full speed had once had a hole in her heart? impossible! that sort of health issue was associated only with those that had a lot less LIFE to them than the high-spirited girl that jellybean was known as, and never once did she allow it to define her. she was a SPITFIRE, pure and simple, and she's proud to say that never once did she sit out of an experience.
life wasn't all sunshine and adventure, though. not every child notices cracks in their home life as they're appearing. jellybean didn't - not until the rug was pulled right out from under her feet. to her wide eyed and rose colored self, everything seemed to happen over night. one day, she and her family were happy. the next, her dad had become an alcoholic, and she and her mum were in transit to toledo. she didn't UNDERSTAND the why of it all - couldn't have even hoped to, when she was still so young. the reality of her father losing his job and their lives going to shit thanks to it didn't sink in. all she knew was that she had lost the father she idealized and the big brother she wanted to BE.
she spoke to them both on the phone, of course. she was even lucky enough to see jughead a couple times - it must have been jarring for him, the first time he turned up to see that the pigtailed little girl who loved kids pop that he remembered had sheared her hair overnight and now listening strictly to pink floyd and the other classics - but it wasn't the SAME. it wasn't having their family together. to say her drastic transformation might have stemmed from a place of resentment towards whatever forces were at play in the ruining of her family wouldn't have been incorrect. jb wanted things to go back to NORMAL. it taking so long to do so killed her.
and what killed her more was that they never really did. she and her mom returned to riverdale, finally, but things never went back to how they were BEFORE. she learned not to talk about it, though, and now... well. NOW she's older, and wiser, and she knows how to hide her real feelings behind an easy bluff. there's nothing to do but make the most of what she does have and stop dwelling on what she used to, she supposes, so that's really all she's doing. 
part two of three : headcanons.
first things first - law. jb hasn’t always wanted to be a lawyer. scratch that: she never wanted to be one, right up until she announced it was her chosen major. when she was still in single digits, she wanted to be a real life PRINCESS. no reason, per say, other than overhearing some of the older serpents sarcastically referring to the jones’ as southside royalty, and really running with it. when she hit doubles, though, and started growing up, jb decided ( right around the time she chose to shorten her jellybean nickname ) that what she wanted more than ANYTHING was to own a record shop. nothing too extravagant, really, just a first floor, one room sorta deal - she’d plaster the walls with posters of the greats and keep the merchandise in crates resting on rickety tables, and every friday night she’d hold a jams night where people could come and lounge around the floor on beanie bags, listening to some of their favorites. she had it all planned, and it’s still something of a dream - but if there’s one thing that jones’ family knows how to do, it’s sacrifice dreams for reality. with penny peabody DISGRACED, the serpents and southsiders in general need someone who knows them to represent them, when things go to trial, and feeling a sense of duty to the people she was raised around, jb bit the bullet and stepped up. she’s got a love for arguing and a knack for winning, so much so that god HELP whoever goes against her in a courtroom, someday - but it’s more a duty thing than it is her passion. 
she has yet to officially join the serpents ( reasons tbd, though it’s not for lack of WANT ) - but jb went right ahead and got a tattoo on her right hand anyway, cause as a jones, she’s still serpent adjacent. the only difference between the picture linked and the one she has is that hers is done in white ink - her way of keeping things lowkey while still honoring her heritage.
miss her with a motorbike. they’re COOL and all, but jb values her life a little bit too much to trust a two wheeled death trip waiting to happen. she’s more into classic cars, anyway, and has pretty recently invested in the frame of a 1979 pontiac gto from the scrapyard, that she plans on fixing up to perfection.
her style is southside meets cute. of course she loves her leather and fishnet combos - but jb is ALSO a huge fan of dungarees and sloganed t-shirts in a whole assortment of colors. anything ‘edgy’ she wears ( big boots, mesh tops, the list .. could go on ) gets coupled with something a little less so ( pink scrunchies, colorful makeup, a disney bag ... again, the list could go on ), and that makes her her. 
and finally, for now, cause i’m not sure i’ve done a good job of conveying it - jellybean is a good kid. she REALLY, truly is. she’s got some bite to her ( enough of a short fuse that it’s advisable not to test her limit ) & wouldn’t be her fathers daughter if she DIDN’T, but she’s also genuinely sweet. being a serpent doesn’t equal being a bitch, and so long as people out there treat her with respect, she’ll do the SAME. jb doesn’t turn unless she’s given reason to ... and if they do, she won’t hold back. 
part three of three : wanted connections. 
kids from the south ( or north ) side that are in or around the same age, who jellybean would have grown up with / went to school with !! they might have reconnected after she returned to riverdale and now know her as who she’s become, but they also might be people who she lost contact with for a LONG TIME and who never got to see her post transformation - any and all variance on this wc would be fun! 
anyone attending riverdale college who she might, maybe, rub shoulders with !! i don’t know if there are any other law students here, but i’d still love the most mundane of connections - maybe they sit with each other during lunch, or they help each other study, or one time, jb dropped a book on their head in the library and they’ve been friends / enemies since! gimme anything !
regulars at pops / the speakeasy. so .. jb is pretty self sufficient, and she’s paying her way in terms of college by working shifts at pops and picking up extras in the speakeasy. she’d know a lot of people from that, i’d wager, and i’m sure she has her favorites! 
more people southside serpent adjacent who she can play off of !! one of jb’s goals in life is to become an OFFICIAL member of the gang, which she hasn’t yet - but she is something of a southside princess, and that means she’d know most of them in some way! 
p much anything else
i love her so much and just wanna throw her at everyone 
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orbemnews · 4 years ago
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Michael Collins, Apollo 11 astronaut, has died at age 90 “We regret to share that our beloved father and grandfather passed away today, after a valiant battle with cancer,” the statement read. “He spent his final days peacefully, with his family by his side. Mike always faced the challenges of life with grace and humility, and faced this, his final challenge, in the same way. We will miss him terribly. Yet we also know how lucky Mike felt to have lived the life he did. We will honor his wish for us to celebrate, not mourn, that life. Please join us in fondly and joyfully remembering his sharp wit, his quiet sense of purpose, and his wise perspective, gained both from looking back at Earth from the vantage of space and gazing across calm waters from the deck of his fishing boat. Our family asks for privacy during this difficult time. Details on services will be forthcoming.” NASA, where Collins spent seven years of his career as an astronaut, also released a statement about Collins’ passing. “Today the nation lost a true pioneer and lifelong advocate for exploration in astronaut Michael Collins,” said acting NASA Administrator Steve Jurczyk in a statement. “As pilot of the Apollo 11 command module — some called him ‘the loneliest man in history’ — while his colleagues walked on the Moon for the first time, he helped our nation achieve a defining milestone. He also distinguished himself in the Gemini Program and as an Air Force pilot. “Michael remained a tireless promoter of space. ‘Exploration is not a choice, really, it’s an imperative,’ he said. Intensely thoughtful about his experience in orbit, he added, ‘What would be worth recording is what kind of civilization we Earthlings created and whether or not we ventured out into other parts of the galaxy.’ “His own signature accomplishments, his writings about his experiences, and his leadership of the National Air and Space Museum helped gain wide exposure for the work of all the men and women who have helped our nation push itself to greatness in aviation and space. There is no doubt he inspired a new generation of scientists, engineers, test pilots, and astronauts. “NASA mourns the loss of this accomplished pilot and astronaut, a friend of all who seek to push the envelope of human potential. Whether his work was behind the scenes or on full view, his legacy will always be as one of the leaders who took America’s first steps into the cosmos. And his spirit will go with us as we venture toward farther horizons.” Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin, former NASA astronaut and lunar module pilot of the Apollo 11 mission, shared his sadness at Collins’ passing. “Dear Mike, Wherever you have been or will be, you will always have the Fire to Carry us deftly to new heights and to the future. We will miss you. May you Rest In Peace. #Apollo11,” Aldrin wrote on Facebook. Collins was born in Italy, became an Air Force pilot, then an astronaut in the Gemini program. He was the third American to perform a spacewalk, according to NASA. Including the Apollo 11 mission, Collins logged 266 hours in space, NASA said. In 2019, Collins sat down with CNN Chief Medical Correspondent Dr. Sanjay Gupta to reflect on the 50th anniversary of the historic Apollo 11 mission. Collins reminisced about looking up a the sky as a child, seeing “the most marvelous things up there” and wanting to know more about them, he told Gupta. That’s when he knew that he wanted to fly. Becoming an astronaut Collins came from a military family. His father and brother were US Army generals, and his uncle was the Army chief of staff. He decided to “sneak off” to the US Air Force instead. In 1961, Collins was a student at the US Air Force Test Pilot School at Edwards Air Force Base in California. That year, President John F. Kennedy said that the United States would put a man on the moon by the end of the decade and return him safely to Earth, Collins remembered vividly. Collins and about 80% of his peers were “gung-ho,” he recalled. NASA and the idea of the Mercury and Gemini programs, which set up for the Apollo program, were attractive, and the space program seemed like a promotion. The other 20% would rather fly and test new airplanes for the Air Force rather than getting “locked up in a capsule and shot off like a round of ammunition,” Collins said. Collins, a fighter pilot for four years, graduated flight school at age 22. He “flunked out” the first time he applied to the space program. He says there are 15 or 20 reasons why he might have flunked, but he likes to tell the story of the famed Rorschach inkblots mishap during his psychiatric exam. “I leafed through a whole series of them, and then the last one was a blank sheet of paper, pure white, 8 by 10,” he said. ” ‘Here, so what do you see?’ they asked. I say, ‘well, of course that’s eleven polar bears fornicating in a snowbank.’ And I could see the examiner’s eyes kind of tighten. He didn’t think that was funny. He didn’t like people making light of his card set. Anyway, for whatever reason, I flunked. The next year, (in the inkblot) I saw my mother and my father, and my father was slightly larger and more authoritarian but not too much more than my mother, and I passed.” Collins was selected as part of the third class of astronauts in 1963. His first mission was Gemini 10. His second was Apollo 11. The six years between 1963 and 1969 flew by. Collins and his fellow astronauts worked hard, rising early and neglecting breaks on the weekends. They rarely saw their families and flew from coast to coast, visiting facilities where parts of the spacecraft were being manufactured. They attended classes to learn everything about the spacecraft they would be flying and spent countless hours in simulators that replicated their missions to conquer every possible error. Physical fitness was not one of the NASA requirements, Collins said. The astronauts had an initial thorough exam before they were accepted into the program, testing their senses and capabilities. But after that, physical fitness was up to the individual to maintain. “We had an annual physical exam that we had to pass, and it was an extremely rigorous exam. They would assign two flight surgeons to one of us, and one would look in this ear, and one would look in that ear. If they didn’t see each other, you passed,” he joked. “That was the physical exam that NASA offered us, and they required us to really do whatever we felt like we should be doing in terms of our own conditioning.” At the time, one of the requirements to become an astronaut was graduation from an accredited test pilot school. Test pilots were used to mental stress and physical danger, so Collins believes that NASA was more focused on other aspects. The agency’s priority was making sure that the astronauts could operate a complex machine that would be going a quarter of a million miles from Earth for the first time. Apollo 11 Collins learned that he would join Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong on Apollo 11 during a call from Deke Slayton, whose résumé included World War II pilot, test pilot, one of the original Mercury Seven astronauts and NASA’s first chief of the Astronaut Office and director of Flight Crew Operations. He put the crews together and was “sort of one of those unsung behind-the-scenes heroes,” Collins said. “He was a wonderful, wonderful boss.” Slayton called Collins and asked, “Hey, you still want to do this thing?” “Oh, absolutely!” Collins replied. “You better believe!” Kennedy’s wish loomed large in Collins’ mind. Then 39, he felt the astronauts carried the weight of the world. He didn’t talk about the dangers of spaceflight with his wife, Pat. “We talked about superficialities and maybe alluded to those serious difficulties that a space flight entails,” Collins recalled. “We’d nibble all around the edges of the danger involved.” Launch day on July 16, 1969, arrived quickly. The three astronauts got out of their vehicle at the base of a tower that went 365 feet into the air. An elevator took them up to their command module, Columbia. Everything had to be “all neat and apple pie” before they could board. Collins looked to his left and saw a clear ocean. On his right was “the most gigantic pile of complex machinery you’ve ever seen.” “And I can remember thinking ‘ooh, I think I’d rather look at the simple one rather than that complicated one. Maybe that’s too complicated for me over there.’ ” The men knew that the chances of it failing somewhere along the line were relatively high, but they were optimistic about surviving, Collins said. After that, the mission unfolded in a series of imperative events. “I liken it to a daisy chain, long and very fragile daisy chain,” Collins said. “It emanates from Cape Canaveral, and then it goes out into space and around the moon and circles it back in. And it’s got all these links in it, and if one link fails, well, all the rest downstream are useless. So for eight days, to and from, there was always one thing coming up, the next big event which could ruin you, be the end of you. That was how it worked.” While Aldrin and Armstrong separated from Columbia in the lunar lander, the Eagle, to land on the moon, Collins kept circling the moon. Once Armstrong and Aldrin were finished, he would rendezvous and dock with the Eagle after it left the lunar surface. That maneuver was the one they had prepared for most during training on Earth. Collins had a 8-by-10 notebook with 18 scenarios around his neck. It went perfectly. Collins was often called “the loneliest man” once he returned to Earth, but he didn’t feel that way — even when he lost contact with Mission Control during his flybys on the far side of the moon. While Armstrong and Aldrin were busy landing, setting up experiments and collecting samples from the lunar surface, Collins had to keep all of the subsystems running on Columbia by himself. “It was a happy home. I liked Columbia,” he said. “It reminded me, in a way, of almost like a church or a cathedral. It had the apse, the three couches, and then you went down into where the altar was. That was the guidance and navigation system. And it was laid out almost like a cathedral. And I had hot coffee. I had music I could play if I wanted to. I had people to talk to on the radio, sometimes too many people talking too much on the radio. So I enjoyed that interlude. Being by myself in a machine up in the air somewhere was not unknown to me, and so everything was working well within Columbia, and I enjoyed it.” When the three men were reunited after the docking, Collins wanted to celebrate with Aldrin and Armstrong. But they had mission items to tend to. The daisy chain wouldn’t be complete until they landed safely on Earth. “I remember I was going to grab Buzz by the shoulders and kiss him on the forehead, and then I decided, ‘No, that’s just not right.’ So I don’t know. I shook his hand or patted him or something. And Neil, I didn’t even bother touching Neil when he came through. That was it. We didn’t say ‘oh, you have landed on another planet’ or anything like that.” Although Collins did look for the little bit of cognac he thought they had stowed away, he never found it. After the successful Apollo 11 flight, Collins saw another side of Armstrong as the three astronauts embarked on a trip around the world to talk about their experiences. Armstrong was their spokesman. “He was just amazing,” Collins recalled. “He’d delve into the background of this thing and that, and wherever we went, he’d pick out details that appealed to the local population, and you could see by the time he got through his little introductory speech, they almost felt like they were crawling on board with us. “It was just an amazing feat, and I think he’s often overlooked in a way. First Man — he’s not overlooked. But what people maybe don’t know about First Man was that First Man was one marvelous proponent of the virtues of the United States and spread those all over the globe.” The three men didn’t remain in close touch afterward, mainly because Collins lived in Washington, Armstrong lived in Ohio and Aldrin moved around. It wasn’t easy to get together. But they had shared in something wonderful and fulfilled Kennedy’s mandate. Life after Apollo Apollo 11 was the proudest moment of Collins’ life. He may not have had the best seat on Apollo 11, but he was happy with the seat he had, he said. He felt privileged to be there. His biggest regret was for those who couldn’t be there — pilots who died in training accidents along the way, the Apollo 1 astronauts and his friend Charlie Bassett, who died in an airplane crash. “I thought ‘boy, he’d be right up there at the tippy-top of the list of who goes first on the moon.’ So I regret that aspect of it.” After his return, Collins retired from NASA, wanting to spend more time with his family. “Pat and I took on a totally different kind of life,” he said. “I figured I’d done the space thing and at the highest level,” he said. “I made a speech at a joint session of Congress and the Secretary of State, Bill Rogers, liked it, and he got President Nixon involved. And so the next thing I know, I was offered a job as assistant secretary of state. A little less than two years when up popped one that I was better qualified for, which was the director of the Air and Space Museum of the Smithsonian, and that was just getting started. I started with a vacant lot and a hole in the ground and then a building and so forth.” Collins began running with astronaut Ed White during the Gemini program and ran 50 miles when he turned 50, completing triathlons along the way. When Gupta spoke with him in 2019, Collins was still speaking about the virtues of exercise and the Mediterranean diet. He cited “2001: A Space Odyssey” as his favorite movie. If there’s one question he grew tired of hearing after all of these years, it was “what was it like up there?” It’s part of why he wrote his 1974 book, “Carrying the Fire,” which was re-released for the Apollo anniversary. Throughout the Apollo mission, Kennedy’s wish was in the back of Collins’ mind. He reflected on that aspect of the mission 50 years later. “Apollo 11 was the culmination,” he said. “We were finally able to do what Kennedy had asked us to do, and so I think Neil and Buzz and I, all three, we felt that this was a culmination of a long, successful series. And we tried our best to fulfill it.” Seeing the moon up close was spectacular, but he recalls that the view of Earth kept snaring the astronauts’ attention. “I said ‘Hey, Houston, I’ve got the world in my window,’ ” Collins said. “And the world is about the size of your thumbnail if you hold it out arm’s length in front of you. The whole focus of your attention goes into this little thing out there. It’s in a black void, which makes its colors even more impressive. Primarily, you get the blue of the oceans, the white of the clouds, you get a little streak of tan that we call continents, but they’re not that noticeable. It just looks glorious.” But Collins noticed something unique about his perspective of our home planet. “Strangely enough, it looks fragile somehow,” he said. “You want to take care of it. You want to nurture it. You want to be good to it. All the beauty, it was wonderful, it was tiny, it’s our home, everything I knew, but fragile, strange.” CNN’s Samantha Bresnahan and Amanda Sealy contributed to this report. Source link Orbem News #Age #Apollo #astronaut #Collins #died #MICHAEL
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saikostories · 4 years ago
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GOT7 - I Can’t Lose You (Jackson)
People had often said to you that high-school would be the best years of your life; years that you would spend making close bonds and friendships while studying hard in order to achieve good grades before eventually going on to attend university. But like many things in life, this was far easier said than done. To put it simply; you quickly found out that high-school was not how they made it out to be in dramas. Teachers were rude and didn’t care if you were struggling, and the students were even worse – bullying was a big problem at the particular high-school you attended, and the teachers did little to combat it, thus resulting in the weaker kids getting abused by their tormentors on a daily basis. Fortunately, every day was a little more bearable; thanks to your best friend Jackson Wang. He transferred to your school a little over a year ago from Hong Kong to continue his studies abroad. He spoke perfect English, and had a slight American twang to his accent. You were apprehensive about him befriending you at first, as you had built up walls so high around you in an attempt to not get hurt by anyone, but you slowly let him in over months of constant pestering by him. It wasn’t long before you and Jackson had become like hand and glove; the best of friends. You relied on him, and he relied on you to make school a little less shitty than it was. However, not all was rosy in the garden, as Jackson soon found out that he was being targeted by one of the ring leaders who commanded the school’s bullying. His name was Lee Jooheon, infamous tough guy and merciless fighter who often got in trouble for various activities such as smoking with his cronies in the bathroom, playing hooky on the daily and actively trying to abuse anyone who even so much as looked at him the wrong way. Everyone feared Jooheon, even his own friends as they didn’t dare to disobey him in fear of him lashing out at them. He had even sent a kid to the hospital once for refusing to give him money on demand. Jooheon was a loose cannon, and everyone knew to stay well away. Jooheon picked his beef with Jackson a few months after Jackson arrived at you high-school. You and Jackson shared all the same classes, but you both also had Math with Jooheon. Luckily, he hardly ever showed up, but when he did, tensions were high. You would be lying if you said that you weren’t absolutely terrified of Jooheon. But you treated him as if he were a wild animal – don’t let him smell your fear. So you always tried your best to ignore him, and you had advised Jackson to do the same. This particular day, you and Jackson arrived at Math a few minutes early. You both entered the classroom and sat at your usual seats beside each other. Jackson had just dyed his hair back to black and gotten a new haircut. “So, whaddya think? Am I even more handsome now?” Jackson asked you dead seriously, admiring his reflection in your handheld mirror that he whipped out of your pencil case. “Oh yeah, totally handsome. Look at all those girls lining up outside the classroom to get a peak of you” you said, motioning to the invisible masses through the door. Jackson glared at you from the side of his eye, before breaking a smile and causing you both to giggle. Of course you thought Jackson was handsome. He was ethereal in his looks and devilishly charming and witty in his personality, but you would never feed his ego – and you would never admit that you secretly liked him either. Just as Jackson was about to fire a beautifully sarcastic remark your way, the classroom door swung open, and in walked Jooheon with his gang, making you almost jump out of your seat. Jackson immediately put his hand over yours, looking at you with softened eyes silently telling you that everything was okay. You smiled at him, nodding before taking your books out of your bag in preparation for the class. “Well well, look at this. Young love.” You heard Jooheon call from across the room. You looked in his direction out of the corner of your eye, noticing that Jackson was completely ignoring him as he scrolled through Twitter on his phone. Jooheon and his buddies started making gross comments about Jackson and you, calling you a slut for being so easy and letting him have you – which was not true in any way, shape or form. You’d never even been kissed by a boy, Jackson knew this too – which caused you both to smirk at each other as Jackson turned his head to you away from Jooheon before giving you a wink and a choking face. You laughed – a little too loudly. And that was your first mistake. “Something funny over there?” Jooheon asked, before getting up and walking right over to you both. You quickly wiped your smile off your face, looking down at your books and trying your best to ignore Jooheon. Jackson was still looking at his phone when Jooheon stopped in front of your desk. “I asked you a question you dumb bitch. Are you deaf as well as easy?” he smirked right into your face. Deciding that you couldn’t take anymore of his petty name calling, you raised your face to meet his, before locating your lady-balls and answering him. “We were just laughing about something online we saw. It’s got nothing to do with you.” You said without hesitation, making Jooheon look at you as if you had 10 heads. Usually, people trembled with fear just being in his presence, but you didn’t back down at all. “What’s your name?” he asked you, looking straight into his eyes, his stare so intense it could burn your eyes clean out of their sockets. Jackson looked between you and Jooheon, attempting to read his actions and intentions. “You don’t need to know my name.” You replied lazily, flicking through your book while yawning, which angered Jooheon to no end. He looked to Jackson, noticing that he hadn’t taken his eyes off you the entire time. “Her pussy must be amazing if you can stick hanging around with such a rude bitch all day, Jackson” Jooheon sneered into his face. Jackson stood up suddenly, coming level and face to face with him from across the table. “Say that again and I’ll knock every tooth out of your mouth.” Jackson growled. Jooheon chuckled darkly, looking over to his friends who were slowly closing in. You stood up, putting your hand on Jacksons arm in an attempt to calm him down. Jackson broke eye contact with Jooheon to look at you, and that was the second mistake you both had made that day. Jooheon took this opportunity to grab Jackson by his shirt collar, yanking him clean off his feet and right over the table. You screamed, running over to try and separate them but not being able to get past his friends that were now holding you back. Jooheon got on top of Jackson, laying into him relentlessly and offering him no mercy or time to even fight back. He punched his face over and over, while Jackson just lay there and took every swing. You were screaming bloody murder at the top of your lungs, causing the surrounding classroom teachers to come sprinting into the room. Several teachers surrounded the two boys, pulling Jooheon off of Jackson and separating them both. Jooheon shook them off, laughing while being dragged away by one of the male teachers. He kept his stare on you as he mouthed “You’re next” before being pulled out of the room altogether. You dropped to your knees beside Jackson who was laying in a pool of his own blood dripping from his nose. You cupped your hands around his face, tears falling from your eyes. “Jackson! Are you okay? Can you hear me?” you shouted at him, to which he slowly nodded his head and put his hand over yours. “I’m fine (Y/N). I’m fine now” he replied, a faint smile on his lips as you breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t as badly hurt as you thought he was. Just a bloody nose and bruising to his face and lips, but you were upset and concerned none the less. The other teachers that came rushing to the room were now pulling Jackson to his feet, asking him if he was okay, to which Jackson shrugged their concerns off, telling them that he was fine. “Mr. Wang, please come to the nurses office with me so we can examine your injuries. (Y/N), if you would like to accompany him, you can do so.” Your teacher said, to which you gladly went with him. The nurse gave Jackson a once over, saying he was lucky to escape with minor cuts and bruises. Nurse Choi was all too familiar with the beatings of Jooheon, as she was always the one that had to clean up the mess after and ring concerned parents to tell them about their children being beaten to a pulp. She excused herself to go and file a report, leaving you and Jackson alone in the room. You sat down on the medical bed beside Jackson, looking at him with a mixture of concern and frustration. “Why did you do that? Why did you stand up to him? And why, for god sake, why didn’t you fight back? He could have killed you Jackson.” You whimpered, tears forming in your eyes at the thought of what could have happened. Jackson chuckled, putting his finger up to your cheek to wipe your tear away. “I shouldn’t have started it, but what he said about you really pissed me off. I felt so much anger in that second. And (Y/N), you know that I used to do Marital Arts right? Part of my training is to learn how to be hit before actually hitting someone. He couldn’t have killed me, no one can kill Jackson Wang” he said sternly while pulling his usual stupid faces which made you giggle – even now. You both chuckled, before you lay your head on his chest, making Jackson widen his eyes at the sudden contact. He rested his hand on your head, stroking your hair – when suddenly, Nurse Choi came back in, causing you to jump up out of his grip. Nurse Choi smiled knowingly at you both, before turning to Jackson. “Okay Jackson, your parents are on their way to pick you up. They have insisted on taking you to the hospital so you can get some scans done – which I don’t think is a bad idea at all. Miss (Y/N), you are free to go back to class now.” She smiled at you, handing you your bag. “I’ll call you later when I get home – don’t worry about me. Remember what I said?” Jackson called to you as Nurse Choi ushered you out the door. You smiled and nodded at him, before walking back to class. The rest of the day went by without much commotion. Lots of nosey students asking you questions about what happened, to which you ignored most of them. You weren’t about to go into detail about anything in fear of a rumour being started. The last bell of the day rang and you had never been so happy to hear it in your life. You exited the classroom and began walking down the stairs towards the exit. Just as you were about to turn the corner of the last hallway, you felt a pair of hands grab you from behind. You screamed, but it was no use, and the mystery pair of hands quickly placed themselves around your mouth, before pulling you into an empty supply closet. You kicked and wriggled for your life, but soon you found that there was more than one entity in the room with you. The next thing you knew, you were being rammed up against the wall, and Jooheon was standing in front of you, sweating and breathing heavily in complete rage. “Looks like your boyfriend isn’t around to save you now…we can have some fun, can’t we princess?” he growled, the stench of his breath making you want to be sick as his face inched closer to yours. He held you against the wall, pressing his entire weight on top of you, and you felt that any second, he would crush every bone in your body. “Please…stop…don’t do this Jooheon…please…” you began to bed and cry in the hopes he would take pity on you. There was no way in hell you could fight him, and even if you could, it was 4 against one. To put it plainly; you were up shit creak without a paddle. “Not so tough now, are ya?” Jooheon and the rest of his gang chuckled as tears came flooding down your cheeks and dripping from your chin. “Let me teach you a lesson you won’t forget”. Jooheon stepped back slightly, giving you room to breathe as you gasped for air. And right when you did, he punched you full smack in your stomach, completely winding you as you fell to the ground, unable to breathe. He kicked you in your side, causing you to let out silent cries as all the air in your lungs became trapped. You closed your eyes tight, wishing he would either just leave you alone or kill you. “We’ll continue this at a later date, cutie. See ya” he said, before motioning his friends out of the closet. You lay there for what felt like hours, feeling your stomach and ribs starting to bruise. The air had since returned to your lungs, but you felt like they were on fire. You knew you had to get up and walk home, but explaining your ragged breathing and limping to people was something you knew you couldn’t do. Number one rule about being bullied in your school; if you snitch, you get it 10 worse, as the teachers never did anything about it. You pulled yourself to your feet, pulling your cardigan over your body and wiping your face with your sleeves, before exiting the closet and trying your best to avoid anyone – to which you succeeded. Just as Jackson had promised, he rang you that night but you didn’t answer any of his calls. You didn’t want to tell him what happened, because you knew it would just make things harder. You turned your phone off, telling your Mother that you felt too tired for dinner before shutting yourself in your room for the night. For the next few days, you stayed off school, telling your parents that you had a stomach bug and didn’t feel up to it, which they believed you. Jackson had rang and text you many times, to which you began to feel guilty for ignoring him. You finally replied; TO: King Jacks Sorry for going M.I.A on you and leaving you to battle school by yourself. Just been feeling under the weather. Don’t know when I’ll be back. Stay out of trouble, okay? <3 Around 8pm that night, you heard your doorbell ring, to which you didn’t pay any attention to. You were in the middle of rubbing cream over the severe amount of bruising Jooheon had left on your stomach and ribs, sitting in your room in nothing but your pyjama shorts and bra, when you heard footsteps bouncing up the stairs. “Shite” you thought as you fumbled to put your shirt back on, fearing your mother walking in and seeing the state of your body. But it wasn’t your mother who burst in through your door; it was Jackson. Jackson stared at you, his eyes falling to your badly bruised body as you sat there lie a doe caught in headlights. You felt your heartbeat starting to increase as you then realised that you were half naked. You fumbled again for you shirt. “Jackson, I’m in my bra can you please just-” Jackson cut you off, running over to you and dropping to his knees as his hands went straight for your stomach. His touch was hot and gentle ad he traced the blue and purple galaxies of bruises over your skin, tears forming in his eyes as he cottoned on. He looked up at you, opening his mouth and trying to find words to say. “When did he do this?” he asked bluntly. “It doesn’t matter Jackson, just leave it be. I’m fine, okay?” you said, putting your hand on his cheek, which he quickly swatted away. “Don’t lie to me (Y/N). Is this why you’ve been avoiding me and skipping school?” he whispered, holding you as if you were a piece of fragile glass, ready to shatter at any moment. You raised your hand and gently began pulling it through his soft hair, before patting away his tears with your thumb as you too began to cry. “I’m sorry…I didn’t want you to think this was your fault, because it’s NOT.” You said strongly, looking into his eyes which were back on your body, imagining the severe amount of pain that Jooheon had put you through. He imagined you, lonely and crying, Jooheon laying his filthy hands on you as you begged him to stop. Jackson tightened his jaw as he tensed his whole body up, anger coursing through his veins with every beat of his heart. “I’m going to fucking kill him (Y/N). I’ll break every fucking bone in his body. How fucking dare he do this to you.” He said, as he pulled you in close to him gently, being careful not to hurt you even more. You took in his familiar scent, not even caring that you were still half naked against his chest. Jackson always made you feel protected, but this was something else entirely. You felt like he was a lion, protecting his lioness from immediate danger. You looked up to his face, studying his sullen expression, before he placed his lips on your forehead, littering it with chaste kisses and he rocked you back and forth. You felt your heart swell in your chest at his touch, his strong arms wrapped around you like castle walls. “He’s gonna pay for this. I promise you. I won’t ever let you get hurt again…I…I love you (Y/N). I can’t lose you.”
***
That night, you told your Mother that Jackson came over to help you catch up on a tonne of school and homework that you missed from having a few days off – which thankfully she believed. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for him to come and spend the night with you, staying in your room and sleeping on the small fold-away camping bed you kept in your wardrobe just for him. But tonight, Jackson stayed in bed beside you after he had helped you apply more cream to your badly bruised body. He lay on his back, pulling you over him so that your head was lying on his chest, his arms protectively wrapped around you as he cradled you like a child. You had never seen this side of Jackson before, but then again you never really had any reason to see it – nor did he have much reason to show it. Jackson always did well with keeping his hidden feelings just that; hidden. He didn’t know how you’d react if he confessed to you, but upon seeing you earlier – it had just slipped out. You lay on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as you felt your head rise and fall in time with his chest while his hand ghosted light circles over your shoulder blades. You thought back to what he said to you a few hours ago. “I won’t ever let you get hurt again…I…I love you (Y/N). I can’t lose you.” His words echoed through your mind, both dazzling and dizzying you as you repeated them over and over. Did he mean ‘love’ as in plutonic love? Or ‘love’ as in, love love? Was it appropriate to ask him? How would you ask him? Is it something you could just bring up out of the blue? “How badly does it hurt?” Jackson interrupted your train of thoughts. “It’s not as bad as it was, I’m alright now. It looks worse than it actually is” you sniffled into his tshirt. “Jackson, I want to just forget about what happened with Jooheon. You know how all of this goes…I don’t want to report him or attract any more attention to myself. Okay?” you said softly but seriously as you heard Jackson let out a harsh sigh. “If you think that I’m gonna sit back and watch that fucker walk around school…knowing that he laid his hands on you…I can’t do it (Y/N). I wasn’t there to protect you, but I’m here now. And no one will ever touch you again.” He whispered, swallowing hard to hold back his tears as he went over in his head what you told him had happened. “Please Jackson. I don’t want either of us to get hurt again because of him. Please, I’m begging you. Please?” you whimpered, looking up into his face with your eyes threatening tears. Jackson couldn’t argue with you when you looked like this. He wanted to kill Jooheon for what he had done to you, but he knew that you were right. Doing anything to Jooheon right now wouldn’t only be putting himself in danger, but it would in effect endanger you. “Fine. I won’t pursue him. But if he comes after you, I won’t hesitate to give him a taste of his own medicine. You mean too much to me. Seeing you like this kills me.” His voice turned to that of a whisper as he ran his hands gently over the bruised parts of your body. You hummed into his chest, nuzzling into him more and feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You felt the happiest that you had been in a long time – Jackson shared these feelings, even though he didn’t like how they came about. Your alarm went off the next morning as it usually did in time for school. You woke up, still cradled in Jacksons arms as he opened his eyes to see you on his chest. His heart did somersaults at the sight of you, still hazy from sleep as he stroked your hair softly, watching you smile at his gentle touch. “We better start getting ready…” you sighed, lifting yourself from the warmth of Jackson and stepping across your room to rummage for your school uniform. Jackson rolled on to his side and began watching you while resting his face against the pillow. You felt his eyes on you, making you turn around and give him a stern look. “It’s rude to watch a girl get dressed” you said playfully. You slept beside him in just your panties and night shirt, so putting on your tights and skirt in front of him wasn’t a problem. “It’s rude, but this girl I’m watching is so beautiful that I can’t take my eyes off her” Jackson retorted, smiling devilishly at you and making you chuckle. His response further informed you that yes, he did actually mean what he said to you last night – making your heart beat faster and slower at the same time as you realised that you were madly in love with your best friend, and it just so happens that he felt the same. Much to Jacksons disappointment, you managed to get dressed without having to remove your bra, as he made noises of displeasure while you laughed at his demise. You both ate breakfast together with your Mum, before heading off to school. Before you did, your Mum handed Jackson a small Tupperware box. “This is just something I baked this morning. You’re always so good to our family, and we really appreciate you so much. You’re always welcome in our home Jackson” she smiled at him. Jackson hugged her tightly, telling her that she has no need to give him any rewards for caring about you, before thanking her and wishing her well. After leaving the house, Jackson opened the box to see the vanilla cookies that your Mum had made, and you both ate them on the way to school as if Jooheon was a distant memory. That would be how you would have wanted the story to end, but sadly – it didn’t. You both arrived at school, walking together up to the 3rd floor to begin your first lesson of the day which was Art. The hours ticked by, class after class until finally it was lunch time. “I’ll go find a nice spot on the grass. Do you wanna get the food from the hot counter?” you said to Jackson upon leaving French. “Sure! I think they’re serving BBQ ribs today. Do you want spicy ones or plain ones?” Jackson called after you as you walked towards the hallway door. “Surprise me!” you shouted back, before descending down the stairs and heading outside in the direction of the grass along the school’s football pitch. Upon arriving, you took your coat off and sat it on the grass before sitting down and laying back on your hands, feeling the dull pain in your side – but forgetting about it once feeling the sunshine hitting your legs and warming your entire body. You closed your eyes for a while, listening to the passing conversation of other students, the excited shouting and screaming of those who were playing football during their lunch hour; when you felt a presence in front of you, blocking the sun from your body. Thinking it was just Jackson, you continued laying there with your eyes shut. “Oi, you’re blocking my precious sunlight.” You protested at him, smiling to yourself while imagining his face – but your smile quickly faded as you felt a hand grip the back of your hair causing you to let out a yelp as you were yanked to your feet. You opened your eyes to see the person who you really didn’t want to see today at all. It was Jooheon. “Haven’t seen you in a while (Y/N), were you sick? Did you catch a cold? What was wrong?” he sneered into your face as he edged closer. You tried to wriggle free and run away, but whoever was behind you had a firm grip on your hair, causing you great pain anytime you tried to move. Jooheon put his hands on your ribs where he had previously beat you to a pulp, before digging his thumbs into the bruised skin, causing you to scream in pain – your screams going unheard as another person from behind you, most likely the people who watched Jooheon beat you in the closet, put their hand over your mouth, muffling your cries. “You’re going to be a good little girl and not tell anyone about our date in the closet, aren’t you? Because you know what will happen if you do, right?” he whispered into your ear, putting more pressure on to your bruises. You couldn’t stop your tears from streaming down your face at the pain, his words and the fact that this was all out in the open and not one single person was doing anything about it. You wished with all your heart that Jackson was here, but what could he do anyway? It would be 3 vs 1 – was that even possible to overcome? It was then, right in front of you that you seen a fist collide with Jooheon’s face, sending him flying to your left and landing in a heap on the ground. The grip on your hair and around your mouth loosened as the two people from behind you ran to Jooheon’s aid, while you felt an arm wrap itself around your body and pull you behind them. You looked up and seen Jackson, gripping the sides of your arms and looking into your face, his eyes full of rage and terror. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he said hastily, to which you shook your head. You were absolutely terrified now, not knowing how you were both going to get out of this. “Whatever happens, I want you to stay behind me. You understand? Don’t get yourself involved. Stay well back.” Jackson ghosted the tips of his fingers over your chin, before turning around and standing in front of you, as if to shield you from Jooheon. Jooheon managed to stand up with the help of his two friends, rubbing his jaw where Jackson had decked him full force. He glared at Jackson, chest rising and falling, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes here and there while shifting his weight from foot to foot. “You finally able to grow some balls now Jackson? I didn’t think you had it in you, but you’re gonna regret that.” He threatened darkly, as he stepped forward with his 2 friends, coming closer to Jackson. “The only person that’s going to regret anything is you. Walk away while you still can.” Jackson said calmly, repositioning his feet to a steadier stance as the 3 boys closed in. “You know, you’re pretty cocky for a guy who’s outnumbered…and I don’t think your girlfriend could be much help to you. She was so pathetic when I shoved her up against the wall and had her begging for me to let her go” he laughed sadistically. You could almost feel Jacksons rage radiating from his body at Jooheon’s words, while Jackson began breathing deeply in an attempt to shake him off. He knew that Jooheon was trying to get a rise out of him – but what Jooheon didn’t know was Jackson had done martial arts for the past 10 years, and he knew how to control his anger when it mattered most. “Any last words?” Jooheon muttered through his teeth, cocking his head to the side as he stopped a few feet before Jackson, his 2 friends closing in further. Jackson could hear his heartbeat loud and clear, before he cleared his mind of everything, except you. Knowing that he had to protect you was his main focus. “Bring it on” Jackson replied. Jooheon’s 2 friends didn’t hesitate as they lunged for Jackson, but Jackson was already one step ahead as he pushed you backwards and side stepped the both of them, not turning his back on Jooheon. He side stepped, before slipping back in and swiftly jabbing the side of his hand on to one of the boys pressure points on his neck, making him drop to the ground – cold. The remaining boy let out a growl, coming for Jackson once again with a sloppy punch, to which Jackson easily dodged and sent an uppercut flying into the boys chin. He moaned, falling on to the grass in agony beside his friend. Jackson stepped over them both, looking back out of the corner of his eye at you. You were completely stunned at how quick and easy Jackson made the whole thing look as it quite literally happened in only a few seconds. You had only ever seen things like this in movies, so to see it happen right before your eyes was both shocking and amazing. After seeing that you were okay, Jackson turned to face Jooheon once again. “All this over a girl Jackson…you know, if you had of played your cards right, you could be with us. The kings of this fucking school, instead you’re whipped like a dog” Jooheon chuckled as he shook his head, his voice dropping on the last word. “You could give me any card in the world, and I’d choose her every time.” Jackson replied, both of them circling and sizing each other up. “Awh man, don’t tell me this is all for love? You’re pathetic. How’s life on the end of that leash she has you on?” Jooheon squinted his eyes as he clenched his jaw, the pain a reminder of Jacksons fist colliding with it just moments ago. “Are you gonna stand there and run your mouth all day or are you gonna man up and come for me?” Jackson edged him on, knowing that he was severely getting to Jooheon by the redness in his cheeks. With that, Jooheon sprung forward, screaming and throwing empty punches into the air. Had this not been a serious fight, Jackson would have died from laughing at just how unprofessional and pathetic Jooheon fought. He was able to miss and dodge all of his failed swings, further frustrating Jooheon as he lashed out uncontrollably, shuffling forward in a rage as Jackson just calmly shrugged him off. Deciding that enough was enough, Jackson grabbed Jooheon’s closed fist that was meant for his face, before twisting it around his back and pushing Jooheon to the floor. Jooheon cried out in pain as Jackson pressed some of his body weight against his wrist, the pain surging through Jooheon’s body with every second that went by. “Okay okay stop! Get off fuck you’re gonna break something!” Jooheon screamed into the grass as Jackson continued to put pressure on him. “Did (Y/N) not tell you something similar when you rammed her against the wall and beat her to within an inch of her life? Why should I give you any mercy when you don’t offer it to anyone else? Hmm?!” Jackson’s voice was deep, well controlled and close to Jooheon’s ear as he pressed even harder, pulling Jooheon’s whole arm into a twist now. “Alright I get it! Fuck, please just don’t…I- I won’t touch her again! I’ll stay away from the both of you- please…f-f-fuck please stop!” tears started flowing from Jooheon’s eyes at the intense pain that was being inflicted upon him. Jackson leaned back a little. “If you ever come near her again, if you even so much as look in her direction; I won’t just break your arm. I’ll snap your fucking neck in half.” He growled, gritting his teeth. “I promise, I won’t. I’ll stay away. Wait…what do you mean you won’t just break my- FUUUUUUCK!” Upon hearing Jooheon’s answer, Jackson jerked Jooheon’s arm, making a snapping noise and administering a clean break. Jooheon screamed bloody murder before Jackson let go of him, leaving him to roll around on the grass as he clutched his arm close to his body. By now, they had attracted quite the crowd – even teachers looked on as none of them dared to get involved; even they were terrified of Jooheon. Everyone just stood in silence, watching Jackson as he walked over to you and listening as Jooheon screamed in pain on the ground. “Let’s go” he said, taking you by the hand and picking up your coat and bags as he walked towards the school gates. You both walked in silence until you reached a nearby park which was halfway between your school and your home. Jackson never let go of you once, before you both sat down on one of the benches in the park which was completely empty as all the kids were still in school. You weren’t sure what to say to him as you just stared at your knees, before you noticed that Jackson was looking right at you. You raised your gaze to meet his as he softened his features. “Did I scare you?” he asked softly. You would be lying if you said that what he did didn’t shock you, but you weren’t scared of Jackson, in fact; you had never felt more at ease with him than you did now. “No. Jooheon scared me, but you…you saved me. I’m just shocked that you were able to beat them up as you did” you chuckled dryly, making Jackson breathe a sigh of relief. “Hey I didn’t beat them up, it’s self defence. I let them all make the first move. If the school decide to call the police, I have more than enough witnesses to say that I never threw the first punch.” Jackson said proudly, giving you the smile that you adored so much as he beamed at you. Your emotions were so high already for him, and that just completely pushed you over the edge as you suddenly pressed your lips against his – making Jackson widen his eyes in complete shock. If it had of been appropriate to do so, he would have pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. But instead, he completely melted into your kiss, reaching his arms out and sliding you over, nearly pulling you on to his lap. You deepened the kiss, hungry for his love as you both opened your mouths granting each other fair access. You snaked your hands up and around his neck, feeling the stubble of his undercut tickle the palms of your hands as you listened to his laboured breathing. You smiled through the kiss, thinking to yourself about how long you had really wanted to do this for - the endless thoughts of kissing your best friend who you had accidently fallen in love with. All those times spent together, the late nights, the early mornings, the long school days and the short weekends by each other’s sides. As his hands gently rested themselves on your frame, you thought about how he had protected you, how he had risked everything to make sure you were okay. You thought back to his face when he seen the bruises on your body and how it looked like his world was coming crashing down around him. You gently pulled back, breaking the kiss and lacing your hand with his, looking into his deep brown eyes. “I…I love you Jackson” you said shyly but surely, as you softly bit your lip, tasting him on it and making you smile. Jackson’s heart was in his throat as he grinned uncontrollably, squeezing your hand and pulling you into his chest. “I already said it last night, but I assume you just thought I was saying it as a friend. But I’ve loved you from the moment I met you, so you better get used to me being around all the time to kiss you and snuggle you, just like this” he said, his voice softer than you had ever heard it as it made your heart drum through your chest. You rested in his arms, the petals from the cherry and apple blossom trees falling around the both of you as the warm sun shone down on you. There would be a lot to answer for tomorrow at school – Jackson breaking Jooheon’s arm, the both of you leaving school during the day without permission. But you knew that none of that was relevant because you had him. You had Jackson, and he had you. And with the two of you together, you knew that there was nothing that you couldn’t overcome and move on from. Because the love you both shared for each other may have been long overdue, but it was a million times stronger now, and that’s all that mattered.
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leanncar · 7 years ago
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To Lead Fantastic Lives - Epilogue
I know what y’all are thinking. I never thought this day would come either. (aka wherein Leann comes back to her fanfics 3 years later and finds an unfinished epilogue for a story she so rudely abandoned. ending is rushed, im warning you AND OH GOD I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW THIS SITE WORKS ANYMORE IT’S BEEN SO LONG BUT OH WELL)
Thanks to everyone who has been a part of this story, whether you’re actually still here or not.
Link to whole story
“Are you sure it’s gonna be okay?”
“Naegi, sit still.”
“I mean, what if it’s not? Kirigiri, it’s been four days!”
“I will hold you down with my own hands if you don’t stop squirming. Those bandages on your head need to be replaced and you’re making it hard on the nurse!”
“But—”
“The doctor said it’s fine. Trust him. Ikusaba is fine.”
The pair sat on some chairs in the waiting area. Kirigiri’s crutch rested on the side of her seat and she held a cup of stale coffee in one hand. Beside her was Naegi, whose bandages were now pristine white and clean. In the aftermath of the Enoshima encounter, his head became a muddle. He hadn’t noticed that a piece of rubble fell and scraped the top of his head, blood trickling down the side of his face. He was lucky that was all the injury he sustained, same with Ishimaru, Oowada, and Fujisaki. They were all extremely lucky. But whatever luck had worked in their favor did not bode well for Ikusaba, who was retrieved from the house’s kitchen barely alive. In spite of it all, she was saved. And she was recuperating. Naegi knew not what life awaited her when she woke, but if he could impart her some of his luck he would.
Ishimaru appeared, his arm in a sling. He smiled at the pair, though it was more for the sake of formality as it did not reach his eyes. “How is she?” he asked.
“Ikusaba’s still unconscious,” Naegi replied. “Shouldn’t she be awake by now?”
Kirigiri placed a hand on top of his shaking one. “Relax. The injuries she sustained are far worse than yours. She’ll need a lot of sleep to repair them.”
He nodded, believing her.
Ishimaru cleared his throat. “Naegi, I…” He sighed. He rubbed the back of his neck, his frame limply hanging over the two. “I’m sorry I… I wasn’t able to help. Y-you know, when we were there. I wanted to! I really did! But something came over me, I don’t know… and I was frozen. I couldn’t move. I was—”
“You were scared,” said Naegi. “It’s understandable.”
“I was cowardly. There is simply no excuse.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Kirigiri countered. “You got Naegi out of there in time. Only short moments after your escape all probable exits from your position had been blocked by rubble. If you hadn’t been there, Naegi wouldn’t have made it out at all. You saved a person’s life, Ishimaru. Are you really demeaning yourself for that?”
The grip on Naegi’s hand tightened. He looked at the detective in awe. He hadn’t been aware of this piece of information. “Wow.” Turning to the prefect, he gave a bright smile. “Thank you, Ishimaru. I feel like I owe you so much now.”
Ishimaru shook his head. “No, not at all! You owe me nothing!”
“You’re a great friend,” Kirigiri said. Ishimaru was on the verge of tears.
“I…” Ishimaru changed the subject before the waterworks could continue. “I just came from Fujisaki’s room.”
Fujisaki had been given a different concoction too. She’d been asleep all throughout. Even as Oowada slung her small frame over his shoulder and got her out of the fire, which had crept up her legs by the time he got to her. She had second degree burns on the sides of her legs, but other than that she was fine. The burns will heal. They will, perhaps, scar badly, but they all had been scarred emotionally for the rest of their lives anyway. Other physical scars seem minor now.
“Is there anything she said? About Enoshima or when she was taken captive?” Kirigiri asked.
“Nothing. She’d been walking home when somebody grabbed her from behind and placed a handkerchief over her nose. After that she woke up in this hospital with no recollection at all of what had taken place.”
Kirigiri nodded. “I didn’t expect there to be much information anyway.”
“And how is she?” Naegi inquired.
“She is fine, don’t worry. I left her with Mondo. She’s getting to be more talkative.” There was a fond smile on his face as he spoke. The expression was fleeting, however. The smile turned down, lines appearing in the space between his brows. “Can I ask? Enoshima, she is…?”
“Dead,” Kirigiri quipped. “It was all part of her plan, to have us witness her suicide. We were all pawns in her chess game. Me, especially. I was the most foolish of all of us.”
“Then it’s over.” The relief in his voice was unmistakable.
“Yes,” she said. “Please rest easy, Ishimaru. Thank you for everything and I’m glad you are safe.”
“I should probably be thanking you, Kirigiri-san! You were very smart! And Naegi, standing up to Enoshima like you did. You were so brave.”
Naegi laughed. “It was more of plain stupidity than anything else.” He got a chuckle in response.
“I should head back to Fujisaki now. Please alert us if anything happens to Ikusaba.” They agreed and Ishimaru walked away.
The moment that he was out of earshot, Naegi turned to the detective. “Kirigiri…”
“You saw through it, didn’t you? Do you think he noticed anything?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think anyone else could’ve noticed. I’m just getting better at finding out when you’re lying. Now tell me, what actually happened to Enoshima?”
They locked eyes, Kirigiri’s lower lip trembling before speaking. “They never found the body.”
Naegi swallowed, his heartbeat hammering at the mere thought of Enoshima’s still living body. “That’s impossible. There was a big block of cement on her lap. She wouldn’t have been able to move at all.”
“I’m stating the facts as it is. After you got out, they managed to retrieve Ikusaba. I told the firefighters the perpetrator was still inside. It took them another few moments to get the fire under control, but they claimed not to have seen any sign of another human still inside.”
Before Naegi could form a reply, a doctor turned up and commanded their attention. “She doesn’t seem to have any family, and you were the ones she came in with, so… Mukuro Ikusaba is awake now if you would like to visit her.”
-
Ikusaba suffered from minor burns, a fractured arm, three broken ribs, and some internal bleeding. But her eyes were open and lit up with unfathomable emotion when she saw Naegi and Kirigiri approaching. Naegi made an effort to look encouraging, shooting her a warm smile. Kirigiri was her usual stoic self, ready to get down to business as soon as the luckster finished the formal greetings.
“I’m really glad you’re okay,” he started. Relief flooded on her face.
“But I’m going to jail. I must pay for my misdeeds.” Her voice was scratchy and it took a while for her to speak. She grimaced. “Thank you, though. For deeming me worthy of saving.”
“Naegi’s faith in you was unwavering.” Kirigiri approached her bedside. “I hope you realize what a huge honor that is.”
Ikusaba averted Kirigiri’s stern gaze. “I do realize. I dare not ask for more than that.”
Naegi took in her frail disposition, her eyes glazed with sadness. Ikusaba spent her entire life being manipulated by her own sister, to the point of her own destruction. She’d fashioned herself… No, Enoshima fashioned her to be the perfect killing machine by instilling in her the idea that no one else would care for her other than Enoshima. And she’d followed until she completely dehumanized herself.  Now that she’d betrayed Enoshima and with the prospect of lifetime imprisonment hanging over her head, what could she possibly think was still in store for her? He wanted to give her hope, but he did not know how.
As always though, it was Kirigiri who had the solution.
“I have a business proposal to you, Ikusaba. Enoshima has escaped from the fire.”
To his surprise, Ikusaba scoffed. “That sounds like her, alright.”
“I need to track her down, for good. And also each and every member of her despair group. I can’t have a single one of them walking free and unharmed.”
Ikusaba nodded in understanding. “You think… I could supply you information about them?”
“Yes. I understand Enoshima, to a certain extent. I thought I did fully, but recent events have proved that I am only partially inclined to what goes on in her mind. I need someone who really knows her. And who better to understand her than her former right-hand woman?”
“I don’t know a lot about… the despair network,” she admitted. “I know most of the members, but some of them are out of my reach. In fact, I knew nothing about Mrs. Matsui until I was given the order to shoot her son.”
“The members that you know are students at Hope’s Peak, aren’t they?”
Naegi’s eyes widened at the statement.
“Yes, they are. I don’t know what will happen to them now that they think Enoshima is dead. I would like to hope that without her they’d be harmless.”
Naegi knew that would be too much to hope for, even for him.
Kirigiri spoke again. “I would also like to propose a partnership, once you’re fully recuperated, that is. You’ve proven yourself time and time again a reliable and stealthy fighter. One that would prove indispensable to my investigations.”
“You’re asking me to-to fight alongside you?”
Even Naegi was surprised. For all the doubts that Kirigiri had on her character, this kind of proposal was definitely a huge turn in reverse. “Naegi trusts you, and I trust his judgment. That is all I have to say on the matter. Should you choose to cooperate and testify against Enoshima in the succeeding trial, I’m willing to negotiate with the force on the repercussions of your crimes.”
“You don’t have to answer right away, of course,” Naegi said, breaking out of his astonishment. “This might be too much to ask of you, going against your sister and all.”
“I’ll do it,” Ikusaba said. “I have no doubt in my mind that I want to put an end to Enoshima’s schemes. I will assist in your investigations to the best of my ability.”
A sly smile materialized on Kirigiri’s face. And if Naegi hadn’t just finished an encounter with Enoshima, he would’ve thought that he was the only person in the room who wasn’t completely insane.
-
Kiyotaka Ishimaru had much more than what he bargained for when he decided to take that leap of faith and become friends with Mondo Oowada. From that stemmed the rest of the chaos that would scar him for life. And yet from that also stemmed even more friendships and experiences he’s sure to never forget. If there was anything he learned, it’s that the world was so much larger, madder, better than he initially perceived.
From across the hall, he looked at Oowada, calmly picking at the lint from the bandages on his arm. His hair drooped lazily over his brows, spilling onto the bows of his eyelids. The biker caught his eye, and they shared a knowing smile. His face said it all - I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re alive. And with me.
“What’re you lookin’ at?” said Oowada in a teasing tone. “Am I too handsome?”
“Mondo,” Ishimaru said his name like a prayer and sighed. “You need to get a haircut.”
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singulari-taee · 7 years ago
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The Danger in Duality | 02
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COLLEGE! AU  |  ASSASSIN! AU  |  ANGST  | SMUT  | COMEDY | 8k
BTS X Reader
CW: Violence
“You and your seven squad members must take on the struggles of being world-class assassins while also living as full-time college students.”
      When you reached the second floor, you banged your fist against the door of the apartment.
     It cracked open, out peeking Yoongi with a bored expression, “May I help you?”
      “Well you can start by letting me in,” you said.
      He seemed to be thinking about it, but the pensive look disappeared almost immediately, “Nah, you can stay outside.”
      He tried to close the door but you caught it with your shoulder and forced it open, stumbling in, “Did you seriously think that would work?”
       “No, but it was worth a try.”
       You and Yoongi didn’t actually hate each other, but it wasn’t always that way. Years back in your training days, the hostility came from competitiveness. You both were The Academy’s hand-to-hand combat prodigies, excelling in everything from martial arts to knife work. The rankings were always close between the two of you, and you both tried your hardest to outdo the other to impress instructors. You couldn’t stand his quiet arrogance, and he your carefree flare. Though the hard feelings had to be put aside when you were assigned to the same squad. It was kind of ironic, because you didn’t talk at all before in The Academy, opting for cold stares and hard hits whereas now you couldn’t stop coming for each other’s throats.
      Your current hostility came out more as a habit since you really didn’t know how to co-exist any other way.
       The apartment was spacious and simply decorated. It looked like any other home for 20 something year old males, except for the weapons spread out on every flat surface. Jungkook sat at the dining room table, cleaning one of his guns as he talked to Jimin. Taehyung was standing in the kitchen eating a sandwich when he looked up and saw you walk in.
          “Hey, ______!” he called through a mouthful of bread, coming over to hug you like he hadn’t just seen you hours ago, “How was your workout?”
          “I’ve had better but it was alright. Thanks for asking,” you reached up and ran your fingers through his messy hair.
           He was like the little brother you never had, and he normally didn’t give you a headache like the rest. Or when he did, it didn’t last long.
         “See? Why can’t you be more like Tae?” you asked Yoongi.
        He stared at you blankly, sending a look that said ‘Don’t insult my intelligence like that.’
        “Okay everybody, _______’s here. Let’s hurry up and get this mission review done before we get our next assignment,” Namjoon called from his place on the sofa next to Hoseok and Seokjin.
          Everyone walked over, taking their seats on the cushions and floor to get a good look at the oldest’s computer screen.
        “Let’s start off with Joon, how many kills did you get last night?” Seokjin asked.
        “3.” he replied.
         “Yoongi?”
         “4.”
        Hoseok?”
         “4.”
        “Jimin?”
        “5.”
        “Tae?”
         “3.”
        “Jungkook?”
         “7.”
        “_______?”
         “6.”
     Seokjin’s fingers worked on the keys as he plugged the numbers into the database log, “Okay that’s 32.”
      “Those are slightly above average numbers, not counting whoever else was still alive when the bomb went off,” Namjoon added, “Good job everyone.”
       All the information Seokjin put into his computer went straight to The Academy to be reviewed. The model itself wasn’t even on the market, handcrafted for this specific job. The only downside was having to get it checked for viruses and hackers every other day, which was a pain in the ass when he had assignments due.
       “Oh crap,” Seokjin began, “_______, the database is saying that you just made your 300th recorded kill last night. And most of them were without long distance weapons.”
        “Wait really?” you got up to get a closer look at the screen, still not believing the number next to your name, “Holy shit.”
       The boys broke into cheers, shaking your shoulders and patting you on the back.
        “Hey I knew you were the best fighter for a reason, congrats!” Hoseok said.
         “That’s up for debate,” Yoongi muttered, wincing when he was elbowed by the other boy, “Congratulations though, I guess.”
          The Academy had assembled your squad carefully, trying to create the perfect balance of skills and qualities for the group. It was just by chance you were the only girl, as squads weren’t made with gender in mind but with the thought for the best product. There was another squad The Academy had created with all girls and one boy a few years back, but rumor had it they disassembled because it had gotten too messy.
          “I heard that you get a big pay raise when you hit 300, too,” Taehyung sighed, “Lucky.”
        “It’s true, I remember when I made my 300th kill...and my 350th...and--” Jungkook said.
       “Okay we get it you’re more of a serial killer than the rest of us, let’s get this new assignment dammit,” Yoongi interrupted.
        When the clock had hit the hour, everyone went into a frenzy, fidgeting and smoothing down their clothes before the computer screen was taken up with the face of an older clean shaven man. His suit was freshly pressed, and from the background it was evident that he was sitting in his elaborate office. Though they got new assignments often, there was still a sense of nervousness whenever his face appeared.
        “Good evening, all,” he said, voice in that classic boom they knew well, “How is everyone doing?”
        “Fine, Mr. Kim,” you replied in unison.
          “Well, from looking at the latest mission review I can see that last night was overall very successful. Completing a mission like that in under 45 minutes is impressive. Though, I have some questions about this…” he began.
         “Oh no,” Seokjin said under his breath.
          Images of the explosions flashed across the screen, the entire picture filled with smoke clouds and falling debris. Everyone sat there quiet a moment, looking away from the camera and at the walls to avoid his pointed gaze. Even when not in the same room he had a presence.
          “Grandson, care to explain?” he asked.
          Namjoon gulped.
          Mr. Kim started off as simply a rich man with a vision of a better world, wanting to right the wrongs in society. But after growing tired of the constant misdeeds, he decided to take things into his own hands. He had all the connections, respect, power, and money a man could wish for, and with this clout he created his own empire of young vigilantes.
        And as his grandson, Namjoon was the first. He wasn’t some wild child with a criminal record like his peers, but being related to the man that started it all was all he needed to become a leader. And even if he wasn’t the best shooter of fighter, Mr. Kim was sure Namjoon would be the best leader he could be.
        “Um, well, about that, grandfath—,” he began awkwardly.
         “It was my fault,” Seokjin sighed, “I set off the bombs.”
         Mr. Kim’s eyebrows rose, “Ah, Seokjin, I should have known. You’re aware that our goal is to be discreet, so why set off two bombs on the edge of the city?”
        “It was our only option, sir. Everyone inside was getting surrounded and there were too many close calls, so I took it upon myself. I should have been more careful,” he replied.
          He pondered it for a while, looking pensively with his hands clasped on his desk, “Well you’re all extremely fortunate that all evidence that you were there got lost in the fire.”
        “Told you,” Namjoon whispered to you.
          “Academy representatives went to the scene before the police arrived and made it look like a gas leak, so you’re in the clear. No need to worry this time, but be more careful in the future,” Mr. Kim said.
          “Yes, sir,” Seokjin bowed.
           “Well enough of that, the past is the past, don’t harp on it for too long. I need you with a clear conscience for this next assignment,” he began, “Tomorrow night a group of politicians from around the country will be hosting a fundraising gala. The money made from this event is supposed to go towards new books and programs for public schools, but just like all the other money they’ve raised it will undoubtedly go back in their pockets. These 8 men,” he said, bringing up their photos on the screen. Their smiles were a bit too wide to be genuine, and you could almost smell the greed through their tailored suits and pressed lapels, “have also stolen from impoverished areas and taxpayers for the past ten years without a conviction and it’s time for their justice to be served.”
          You all scooted closer to the computer, taking in the words and memorizing their faces.
          “For this mission, we will need three of you to be active on the inside. Two of you will act as attendees and one will pose as a server to the politicians’ table. For the server, we have chosen Hoseok since you are the best at disguise and blending into scenes. We will send you drugs to put in their drinks to decrease motor skills.”
          Hoseok nodded.
          “This is where the next two come into play. For the attendees, we have chosen Jimin and ______ to act as a couple interested in donating to the programs since you both have the most believable chemistry. Once Hoseok gets them intoxicated, you two will need to lure them away from the crowd and get the job done.”  
          You nodded, and out your peripheral you could see Jimin smirking.
          “Jungkook, and Taehyung, I will need you two on sniper duty in case something goes wrong. Namjoon and Yoongi you two will do clean up on the ground floor as needed. Seokjin you will need to tell those inside what you see through security cameras and warn them of danger. As you all know by now, bodyguards are not off limits. Jimin and ______ your tuxedo and dress will be coming soon, and we’ll be sending a driver to come pick you up for the event. Keep a look out because I’ll be forwarding more information to prepare you all in a couple hours. Best of luck.”
          Mr. Kim nodded, and with his final words disconnected the call.
         You all exhaled, relaxing and letting out breath you didn’t know you were even holding. It wasn’t that you feared your boss, your rigidness around him came from a place of reverence. It was just something about not completing your missions or even looking the least bit disrespectful that scared you more than anything since he had done so much for you all.
         Death wasn’t your biggest fear, disappointment was.
          “So,” Jimin said. He was sitting on the floor in front of you, and he draped his arm on your leg, “We’re going to be a couple, huh?”
          “Acting like a couple. Key word acting.”
          “I can dream can’t I?” he asked.
          “As long as you keep your dreams and hands to yourself then sure,” you said, picking up his arm gingerly and dropping it.
          “No promises,” you heard him sigh. All of the boys that had been sitting on the sofa got up and dispersed around the apartment, leaving you alone on the seat. You laid out flat across it and Jimin rose from the floor and sat on the other end, putting your feet in his lap, “Are you nervous about this mission at all?”
          You shrugged, flipping through the channels on the television, “Not more than usual. You?”
          “Not really. I’m kind of excited, actually. We get to schmooze in a room full of rich people, eat their food, drink their expensive alcohol, and look good doing it. It should be fun,” his fingers played absentmindedly with the hem of your leggings, and you let him.
          Yoongi came from out the back, looking at you and Jimin on the sofa in clear annoyance, “Jungkook and Taehyung just left, why are you two moochers still here? Watching my TV on my sofa, you don’t pay bills around here.”
          “Neither do you!” you shouted.
          Yoongi paused, looking like he was searching for a comeback and falling short, “Fuck you.”
          You snickered and Jimin reached over and gave you a high-five.
          “I have a solution,” he said, coming out of the kitchen with a glass of water, “Why don’t you two pick another place to flirt, you’ll have more privacy and you’ll both out of my house. Sounds like a winner to me—“
          You chucked a pillow at his head and he ducked skillfully, making it hit the wall behind him. The water in the glass barely moved, “Shut up.”
         “That’s just another example of why my aim has always been better.”
          “Get your kills up before you try to insult my aim, moron. How many are you at? 270? 275?”
          He looked like he was swallowing back his words, fist balling up at his side, “If you’re not gone by the time I’m done with my nap you’re both getting a 9 millimeter to the ass.”
          Like a ghost, Yoongi glided out of the room, mumbling under his breath. You heard his bedroom door slam shut.
         “Sometimes I think you two really do still hate each other,” Jimin said.
         “No, it's just entertaining to get him all riled up.”
        “You’re the only one that would dare talk to him like that, though. If it was any of us,” he shivered, “I can’t even imagine. Probably because you’re the only one that has the slightest chance at kicking his ass.”
        “He knows I could. I’ve done it before years ago, and I’d gladly do it again,” you said.
         “I HEARD THAT GET OUT!” Yoongi boomed from the back of the apartment, a nearby vase trembled at the sound. You could have sworn you heard a gun cock from his room. You and Jimin jumped off the sofa and sped walked towards the door.
         You figured you had overstayed your welcome this time.
___________________
           You had been awakened by the sound of knocking at your front door, a little too early for a Saturday. You trudged over, only to open it and find 2 men in suits standing before you with a large box. Nodding curtly, they left it in your hands and drove off in an inconspicuous black car identical to all other Academy vehicles. You stood there confused and half-asleep for a while until you remembered you would be getting your dress that day.  
          When you brought it back to your room and opened the box you almost laughed. Though you were aware that it was a formal event, this seemed a bit excessive.
          “Really?”
          You sat on your bed, staring at the package for hours, the whole time debating calling Mr. Kim yourself just to ask if this is what he had really meant to send. When it was time to get ready, putting the thing on took 10 minutes alone, a clear indication in your mind that you shouldn’t be wearing it.
          After pinning your hair up, you appraised your reflection in the mirror, taking in the wide, floor length red ball gown adorning your body. It was the kind you would see in fairy tales written about distressed princesses waiting for their handsome prince. Just standing there, you looked like you were about to lose your glass slipper and not raise your kill numbers.
           But maybe that was the point.
           At nine o’clock, you locked your apartment door behind you. You had heard Luna’s shower start a few seconds earlier and knew you were in the clear. You didn’t even want to think about how hard it would be to explain your outfit if she ever saw you.
         When you rounded the corner, you saw a limousine parked out front, just as they said it would be. Jimin leaned against the door, arms folded looking ridiculously debonair in his tuxedo. His hair was parted on the side, longer strands falling in his face giving him another layer of dapperness you weren’t used to. When he heard your footsteps he looked up, eyes widening as he adjusted his stance.
       “Too much?” you asked.
         “No, not at all...you look beautiful,” he said earnestly, “I’m just honored to be the first one to see you.”
        You felt a smile creep up on your lips, your insecurities beginning to melt away at the words. Times like these made you remember why Jimin was known for his charm. He was very sweet when he wanted to be, and if you didn’t know him like the back of your hand you would be a blushing mess right now.
        “Thanks, you clean up well, too,” you said. He opened the door for you, letting you in first before climbing in behind you. You noticed that his bow-tie and the handkerchief in his pocket were the same color as your dress.
        The Academy sure was being thorough with this couple concept.
        “The only downside to that dress is how poufy it is, I know if it didn’t have all those layers I’d have an amazing view right now,” he said.
          There was the Jimin you knew.
         The ride over was quick, and you both took in the lights of the lavish downtown area filled with office buildings and skyscrapers through the windows. When you finally came to a halt, the driver got out to open your door. The both of you exited the limousine, staring up at the ritzy hotel you had been brought to. There was a red carpet leading to the front door, empty since you two had arrived late.
          Jimin had his arm extended out to you, an invitation to link yours through his, “Let’s get it done.”
          When you walked through the doors you were led to a large ballroom filled with tables and a dance floor, a band playing elevator music on the side. The two of you were so busy scoping out the space that you almost didn’t notice how quiet it got when you came into view. Nearly all eyes were glued to the two of you as you made your way inside, side conversations calming down to near whispers.
          “So much for being discreet,” you said in a low voice.
          “This is going to be interesting,” he said.
          You walked over to a corner, still aware of the quick glances thrown in your direction. Everyone there seemed to drip wealth and prosperity, and for tonight you and Jimin actually looked like you belonged. The other women wore gowns too, but theirs looked incredibly plain and lackluster next to yours. From their upturned noses, it was obvious they felt the same way.
          “Jimin, _____, are you two inside yet?” Namjoon asked through the tiny earpiece you had hidden under your hair.
          “Yeah just made it, you?” Jimin replied into his own, turning to make it look like he was speaking to you.
          “Seokjin just dropped us off and Yoongi and I are hiding in the back of the hotel now. We would have been here earlier but unlike you we didn’t have a limousine to pick us up,” he said, “Jungkook and Taehyung are you at your post?”
          “We’re climbing the side of a nearby building east of the hotel right now. We’re almost on the roof,” Jungkook replied. You could hear the strain in his tone, “TAE, WHAT THE FUCK?”
          You winced, his voice piercing your eardrums, “Jungkook! Inside voice, please,” you whispered angrily.
          “Taehyung just dropped one of our guns and we’re 20 floors up! It almost landed on my head!”
          “Sorry I lost my grip!” Taehyung responded from above Jungkook, “We’ll just get it when we go back down!”
          “It’s probably totaled now! We’re dangling 200 feet above concrete!”
          “I said I was sorry!”
          “That doesn’t matter—“
          “Stop talking,” you could hear Yoongi say in a dry, icy voice that sent a shiver up even your spine.
          “Sorry,” Jungkook and Taehyung responded in unison.
          “Hoseok, where are you?” Namjoon asked.
          “Just made it to the ballroom,” he responded.
          You looked around and finally spotted him on the opposite side of the room. He noticed you and made his way over, eyes wide for exaggerated effect as he looked you up and down.
          “Wow, I thought I would have trouble finding you but you were hard to miss,” Hoseok told you, “You look amazing.”
          “Why, thank you,” Jimin replied obnoxiously, making you and Hoseok roll your eyes.
          “Thanks,” you said, “Um, what’s up with your…uniform?”
          The server’s uniform Hoseok wore was very ill-fitting, and looked like it belonged to someone 4 sizes bigger than him. He tried his best by tucking in the extra fabric and buckling his belt tight but It did little to help.
          He sighed, “The academy didn’t send me anything to wear so I had to steal it from another server. I was running late so I couldn’t be picky with who’s I took.”
          “Where are they now?” Jimin asked.
          “Locked in a broom closet upstairs,” he replied, “Don’t worry I knocked him out cold. He should wake up soon…maybe sometime tomorrow.”
          “Hey, I’ve got an eye on our targets,” you said, nodding behind the two boys. They turned around to see the group of politicians, all seated at a table together. They were busy talking with other patrons of the event that had come up to them, shaking their hands and smiling.
          “They’re all sitting together so that means we won’t have to round them all up later,” Jimin noted, “That makes our job easier.”
          “Okay, I’ll let you two go work your magic. See you in a few,” Hoseok, said turning away and disappearing in the crowd.
          You took Jimin’s arm again and walked towards the table with smiles plastered on your faces.
          “I’ll take the lead on this one,” he said.
           You stood behind the line of people waiting to talk to them, and when the bodies cleared out you two stepped forward. While a few were still speaking with other attendees, the rest’s attention automatically went to you two. From their eyes alone you could tell they were trying to figure you out, scanning their memories of whether they had seen you before. Though, the whole while their plastic smiles never left their faces.
          Jimin extended his hand to the man nearest to him, “Hello sir, I’m Kim Namjoon.”
          “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kim,” the man said, eyes unwavering.
          “Why did you have to use my name as an alias?” Namjoon asked through the ear piece.
          “It’s not like the man’s going to live much longer for it to matter,” Yoongi said.
          “No, the pleasure is all mine,” Jimin said, going down the line to shake the awaiting hands.
          “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
          You turned to see a man that looked old enough to be your father eyeing you, biting his lower lip in a way that made your skin crawl. His nose stuck out like a beak, and you remember him distinctly from the pictures you were sent last night.
          You extended your hand with a tight smile, “Alex.”
          It was the first name of one of your old academy instructors, and for some reason the first to come to mind.
          He held on to your hand a lot longer than necessary, and you brought it back to your side as soon as he released it.
          “You look fabulous I must say,” one of the politicians piped up, “What gives us the honor of having you here this evening?”
          “We’re such huge fans of the work you all have been doing in the communities. We just had to meet the men responsible for it all for ourselves,” Jimin grinned.
          “You’re making it hard for us to be humble,” one with a large belly laughed, “Thank you, son. We appreciate it.”
          The creepy one looked between the two of you, “I see you came together, are you a couple? Dating?”
          “We’re newlyweds actually,” Jimin responded, putting his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to his side. Leave it to him to take it farther than necessary.
          Jimin made his way around the table, striking up conversations with every individual man, even the bodyguards that surrounded them. It was amazing to watch him honestly, he moved around the space so seamlessly, like poetry in motion. He smiled at the right times and laughed at all their terrible jokes, looking so invested in all the conversations he had. He laid a hand on their shoulders as they spoke, initiating contact to relax them. He was the definition of a people person if you had ever seen one. With all the flattery, charm, and bullshitting you just knew he had them wrapped around his finger within minutes.
          “You know what, why don’t you two come have a seat here with us for a bit?” a man with huge ears asked. “Pull up a chair, I like you kids.”
          The creep grabbed two seats from a nearby table, placing them next to him. Jimin took the seat farthest from him, unaware, making you sit right next to the man.
          “So how long have you two been married?” he asked.
          “Almost a year now,” you responded.  You noticed he was leaning a bit too close to you.
          “Wow, young love can be beautiful thing…while it lasts. I just got out of a marriage myself just so you know,” he said matter of factly.
          “Oh, so I’m sorry to hear that.”
          “I’m not, I’m finally a free man. Single and ready to get back on the market,” he laughed. He was looking so intently on your face it made you uncomfortable.
          “So tell me more about these programs you’ll be creating,” Jimin said to the table, “They sound really incredible.”
          “Well, with the money raised tonight, we hope to get better books and start programs that will increase creativity in schools,” the one with the belly said.
          “You know, music, visual arts, dance, all of that good stuff. The children are our future and we have to harness and nurture that energy and drive it in a positive direction,” another man with a long salt and peppered beard added.
          “Just out of curiosity, how much money do you think it will take to make these programs happen?” you asked.
          The men looked at each other, “Roughly a couple million I’d say. I think with the money raised by the end of tonight we’ll be near our goal,” another man with a round, almost childlike face responded.
          “It’s definitely going to a good place,” the creep next to you said, making the rest chuckle and nod knowingly.
          You and Jimin glanced at each other, not believing their audacity. The deeper you got into the conversation the more you couldn’t wait to do what you had come for.
          Suddenly Hoseok appeared at your table, holding a tray of laced drinks in one hand with a smile, “Could I interest any of you in a drink this evening?”
          “Sure, why not,” the one with the ears said. Hoseok placed it on the table before him. In social settings like this, if one decides to drink the others will follow to not seem uptight, feeling as if they have to keep up. Surely enough, the rest called Hoseok over to serve them. You watched as they all took sips, completely unaware of the harsh reality they would be facing soon.
          “Wow, this is strong,” the one with the beard winced, “What’s in this?”
          “It doesn’t matter, the less I can remember of this shit show tomorrow the better,” the one with the round face muttered, “Thanks kid, buy you something nice,” he reached into his wallet and placed a wad of money in Hoseok’s pocket.
          Hoseok was unsure if he should accept the tip but thanked him anyways. He was about to walk away from the table when the creep called him back.
         “Boy, why didn’t you offer them some?” he asked, motioning to you and Jimin. Hoseok still had a few more laced glasses on his tray just in case, and he stood there like a deer in the headlights while he racked his brain for a response.
       “Uhh—“
       “My wife is actually expecting so she can’t drink,” Jimin said out of the clear blue. You whipped your head to him, your façade almost slipping entirely at the lie. He rubbed his hands over your flat belly, “And I would feel guilty if I drank without her.”
          You smiled painfully as the table erupted in congratulations.
          “How wonderful! How far along are you?” the man with the big ears asked.
          “9 weeks,” you said, pulling the number out of your ass.
          “I remember when my first son was born, most beautiful moment in my life,” one said, opening the flood gates for the rest to talk about their own children.
          Hoseok looked like he was trying to hold in a laugh, sending a sorry expression in your direction as he slowly backed away.
          The entire time you spoke with the men about your fake pregnancy you cursed Jimin in your head.
        “I’m so bored,” Taehyung whined after a few minutes, gun at the ready as he sat atop the building, “Can you just send someone out so we’ll have something to shoot?”
        “I’d even accept a bellhop at this point,” Jungkook said, “I’m sure we could pull up something on him to justify it. Tax evasion, unpaid debts, old parking tickets, anything.”
           “Stop complaining, at least you two are outside. I’m stuck in this car alone watching old people talk until this mission is over. You two brats don’t know what boring is,” Seokjin said.
        “Well at least you have your computer to entertain you. I don’t know, keep yourself busy, watch some porn or something.”
        “Oh my God what’s wrong with you?” Seokjin asked in exasperation, “I’m not going to use this computer for that filth...that’s what the library’s computer lab is for.”
        Jimin burst out laughing, luckily it was perfectly timed with one of the men’s jokes.
         You almost choked on the bite of food you had just been served.
        The hand Jimin had put on your stomach was now sliding down your dress, pushing up the layers with a straight face as he ate.
       You grabbed his hand under the table and twisted it backwards, making him wince, “What did I say about keeping your hands to yourself?” you whispered.
      “Just getting into character, dear wife of mine,” he smirked.
      The both of you watched the men eat with curiosity.
      “When do you think the drugs will kick in?” he asked.
       “I don’t know they seem pretty normal right now. I’m getting antsy it needs to hurry up and take effect—“
        As soon as the words left your mouth, one of the men dropped their forks on the plate, the utensil clattering loudly and falling on the floor.
        He laughed, shaking his head, “Whoops, I don’t know what happened there.”
        “I’m so exhausted, can we cut this thing short already?” another said. He looked like he was having trouble keeping his head up.
         One started to reach for his glass, moving in slow motion towards it. The bodyguard behind him had to reach it to his shaky hands.        
       “You know what, Alex?” the creep next to you whispered, his gaze seemed a bit far away, and his words started to slur slightly, “A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be tied down to only one man. I’ve got money to last 3 lifetimes and I’d love to share. I can help provide whatever you need. Just let me know what I can do for you.”
       You raised your eyebrows at him, slightly amused at the nerve of this scumbag, “Actually, I was wondering what I could do for you.”
         “Oh, really?” he purred. 
         “My husband and I were interested in donating to your programs. We’d love to help with your vision.”
         He looked slightly disappointed, but the men at the table heard your announcement and got new energy, “Oh really? That would be terrific!”
         “We were hoping we could discuss this further, maybe in somewhere more private?” Jimin said.
          “Of course, anything for my favorite couple. Let’s move this party to somewhere we can really talk,” they began to push their chairs out, gripping the table to steady themselves. The four guards followed closely behind as you all made your way out of the large ballroom.
       The men lead the way, holding each other’s shoulders and laughing boisterously down the hallway.
         You took note of the security cameras lining the way. If anyone wanted to track the politicians’ whereabouts after they left the gala, all they would have to do is look back at the footage. You hoped Seokjin noticed them too and was already dealing with it.
       They lead you to a room down the hall. It was filled with comfortable chairs and sofas, built for cocktails and casual conversation. They eight of them sat on one side and you and Jimin sat across from them, the bodyguards standing in a corner not far away.
         “I think I drank too much, I’m barely able to see straight,” the one with the beard said.
         “You’re not alone, I feel like I just had ten shots and not a glass of wine,” the one with the large ears added.
         “So, about those donations…how much are you thinking, Mr. and Mrs. KIm?” the one with the round face asked.
         “Before I name a number I’d just like to ask you all another question just to be sure,” you began, “Where will all of the money earned tonight go?”
          “We’ve already discussed this,’ he laughed, “To textbooks and new school programs of course.”
         “Oh really? Are you sure it’s not going towards building you all beach houses like the funds from last year’s gala?” you asked, legs crossed.
        The room was filled with a pregnant silence. The men exchanged nervous glances.
        “I’m sorry?” asked a man with bushy eyebrows.
        “Sweetheart, what are you getting on about?” the creep drawled.
        “Do you all enjoy stealing from the poor?“ Jimin asked, “If I can remember correctly, I’m pretty sure even your guards here got a cut of the money you took.”
        “Look, I don’t know if you’re with the press or what the hell is going on here but you two need to leave now. How dare you question our integrity,” one slurred, “Escort them out!” he said to the guards.
         The both of you stood up. Jimin began to walk towards the approaching men but you stuck your hand out, “I’ve got it.”
       Before the muscled guards could react, you lifted your dress, exposing the garter on your thigh filled with weapons. You pulled out two small knives and threw them, making them land squarely in the nearest two’s necks. One collapsed to the floor immediately, the other trying to pull out the object as he stumbled into a wall, gurgled breaths escaping his mouth as he fell seconds later.
      That’s when all hell broke loose.
       The room echoed with screams as the politicians stumbled over each other trying to get up. You walked towards the next guard, never breaking your stride as you snapped his neck and moved to the next. The final ran to tackle you, but before he could lay a hand on your body you grabbed him by his collar, using his momentum to fling him into a nearby coffee table. The glass shattered on impact.
        Their vision fuzzy, the eight men tried their best to make their way to the exit, but Jimin was already standing in front of the door.
         “Sorry, but karma’s a real bitch fellas,” he said, pulling out a blade from the inside of his jacket. While most were paralyzed with fear, Jimin went down the line, doing his damage one by one. Whenever they tried to escape he pulled them back by their hair. He angled the knife weirdly on one, and blood sprayed onto your dress.
       Two that hadn’t drunk as much as the rest ran while you and Jimin were busy and climbed out an open window. They wobbled away, careening through the garden and beyond the hotel.
         “Shit,” you said, “Jungkook and Taehyung, we’ve got a present for you. We lost two and they’re running in your direction now.”
          They perked up immediately, looking through their scopes as they found the two running wildly towards them, “Got it!”
          The roommates pulled the triggers of their rifles at the same time. The two bullets flew and pierced each man’s skull easily, the sound ringing through the night air. They flopped onto the grass, unmoving.
         “Let’s get out of here,” Jimin said.
         You pulled your knives from the bodyguards and took off your shoes. The both of you stepped out the window and ran away from the scene, puffy ball gown and all.
          You saw Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok come out the darkness and drag the two bodies away from the middle of the grass and into some nearby hedges. They followed you soon after.
         “Seokjin, where are you we need to go,” Jimin breathed.
       “Coming, just keep running straight!”
        Moments later the SUV pulled up onto the curb and the five of you piled inside. He barely let everyone sit down before he hit the gas and drove to get the two youngest.
       “Jin, there were a few cameras on our way to the room, could you erase the footage before someone checks it?” you asked from your seat.
       “I’m already ahead of you, I disabled them all as soon as you left the ballroom.”
        The tires skidded to a halt, and Jungkook and Taehyung came sliding down their rope from the top of the building and jumped into the car.
       While Jungkook sat in his seat, he looked at something in his hands pitifully.
        “What’s that?” Namjoon asked.
        Jungkook lifted it to him, showing the several crumpled pieces of the pistol Taehyung had dropped earlier.
         “Don’t worry I think we can piece it back together,” Taehyung assured him. If looks could kill, Jungkook would have sent him to an early grave.  
          You felt eyes boring into you, and you turned to see Yoongi looking you over with an unreadable expression. His eyebrows were scrunched together as he looked at you with a curious intensity you had never seen before.
         “What?” you asked.
        “Nothing.”
         “Then why are you staring at me like that?”
         “It’s just weird seeing you not look like your normal troll self, that’s all,” he responded.
          “Go to hell, Yoongi,” you said.
          “See you there,” he retorted.
          You rolled your eyes and went back to talking to Hoseok. Yoongi tried to look out his window, but for some reason his attention kept going back to you the entire ride back home.
___________________
          “Namjoon?” Taehyung whispered, “Can you help me solve this problem?”
          You were sitting in your advanced calculus class, and this was the fourth time he had asked the leader for help in the last 20 minutes.
          “If I keep solving these for you how are you supposed to learn?” he asked.
          “This is the last time I promise!”
          “Shhh, I’m trying to listen to the lecture!” Seokjin snapped.
          Namjoon sighed and took Taehyung’s paper, scribbling out an answer seconds later, “There. Now please pay attention.”
          The professor drawled, and Taehyung did impersonations of him under his breath. It was spot on, and despite trying your best you couldn’t hold in your silent laughter. Sitting with them wasn’t the best idea, because even though your grade in the class was fine now, it wouldn’t be if they kept distracting you like this.
          “Just look at her,” a girl behind you said in a low voice, “always flirting with them.”
          “I told you she was a hoe! She’s always with that big group of boys. I’ve literally never seen her with a girl.”
          You winced, resisting the urge to turn around and confront the girls yourself. Conversations like these were becoming the norm for you now. It seemed like every other day you would either overhear someone talk about your relationship with the boys in your squad, or notice the strange looks you all got when you walked around. Sure, you understood how unusual it may look to some when you were together, especially when Jimin made crude jokes or had his arm around you, but that didn’t make times like these any less annoying. You thought people would have learned to mind their own business in college but apparently criticism came in all ages.
          “I bet she gets passed around like a blunt at a frat party,” one girl said.
          You tried to drown out their voices and focus on the lesson before you, but it was getting too hard. You were very unconfrontational outside of missions, but these girls were making you remember that you could literally kill them with your bare hands in 2 seconds flat if you wanted to.
          You’ve counted
          Your fist clenched around your pencil and you had unknowingly stopped writing all together.
          The boys watched you weirdly.
          Taehyung leaned over, “What’s wrong?”
          “Nothing,”
          They stopped and zoned in on the conversations behind you, faces contorting the longer they listened.
          “Hey, just ignore them,” Namjoon whispered.
          The girls continued on. One broke out laughing, making the professor turn around and stop the lecture.
          “Girls, even I don’t think calculus is that funny. Quiet down,” he said.
          They apologized, snickering to themselves until class was over.
          You packed your bag and stormed out of the room, making the boys jog to catch up to you outside.
          “It’s really not a big deal, ______,” Taehyung insisted.
          “I’m actually with ______ on this one, they act like boys and girls can’t have a platonic friendship,” Seokjin said.
          You shoved the door to the library open and walked to where the other boys were sitting, writing papers and finishing online quizzes. They saw you four approaching and noticed the flat look on your face.
          “Who pissed in your cereal this morning?” Yoongi asked.
          “Some girls in class were being jerks that’s all,” Namjoon said.
          “That’s a nice way of saying judgmental asses,” you said.
          “Long story short, they were calling _____ a slut because she hangs around us so much,” Seokjin explained.
          “They just wish they had friends like us, that’s all,” Hoseok assured you.
          “It’s only those girls, don’t pay attention to them,” Jimin said.
          “It’s not just them, Jimin, people talk about us all the time,” you said.
          “Really? Never noticed, “ he shrugged.
          As you all stood there, 2 boys walked past your section. They pointed at you, snickering to themselves before one spoke.
          “Hey, let me get a piece when you guys are done!” he said.
          “Yeah, sharing is caring!” the other called. They howled with laughter as they high-fived each other and walked away.
          “D-did they really just--?” Seokjin sputtered.
          “Oh, you’ve to be kidding me,” you groaned, hiding your face as you sat down. Out of all the encounters, you had never seen a pair so bold.
          Jungkook suddenly got up from the table and stalked after the two boys.
          “Jungkook, don’t!”
          He grabbed them by the back of their shirts, slamming them into a nearby wall.
          “Hey man what are you doing!?” one screamed.
          “Apologize to my friend over there,” Jungkook said in a dark tone, his jaw taught.
          “Dude, we were just kidding!” the other said, legit fear in his eyes.
          “I said,” his grip moved from their collars to their throats, lifting them up from the floor several inches. Their hands clawed desperately at Jungkook’s, but they couldn’t move him, “apologize to my friend.”
          The two boys looked at each other nervously, and Jungkook’s short patience was already running thin.
          “NOW!” he pushed them harder and their heads banged against the wall roughly.
          “Sorry! Sorry! We were just joking, we’re sorry! We didn’t mean it, fuck!”
          The group ran up behind Jungkook, grabbing his arm to release them but his grip was too strong.     
          “Jungkook, let them go,” Namjoon said through his teeth. The room had gotten quiet and everyone around was now watching.
          After a moment, Jungkook shoved the boys one more time before dropping them in disgust. The seven of you grabbed the youngest by the arm and literally carried him out of the room. The pair was on the floor busy catching their breath when you left.
          “Jungkook, you really shouldn’t have done that,” you said, even more stressed now.
          “And let them disrespect you? Disrespect us? Fuck that!” he yelled, “I’m getting mad all over again thinking about it. Let me back in there I wasn’t done!”
          Yoongi pushed him back, “We don’t need campus security called on you again, calm down.”
          Jungkook’s anger issues could be dated back to childhood.
          Calling him a school bully was putting it lightly. He would send other kids to the hospital after fighting for the smallest reasons, and when he got old enough he was sent to correctional facilities and counselors in the hopes of getting him on the right track. Though, it did little to help, and his angry streaks continued. The academy approached him after he got expelled from his 4th elementary school, and the rest was history. They pointed his anger in a different direction, and while most would think giving a kid like that a gun was a bad idea, it calmed him in the moment and he became the best shooter The Academy has ever seen.
        You all walked back to the four oldest’s apartment and sat down. Your nerves were still shot, memories from class and the library pushing to the forefront. The big apartment felt very suffocating, and you jumped right up and headed back to the front door.
        “Leaving so soon?” Seokjin asked from the kitchen, “I was just about to start making dinner.”
        “See ya,” Yoongi said, waving at you encouragingly.
         “I have to get out of here. I need to go for a run or something, clear my head.”
         Whenever there was a lot on your mind, you needed to work it off in some way. Physical exertion was the best way to distract yourself as you had come to learn. And at times where you were like this, you had to just go or else you felt like you would explode.
         “It’s dark out now, you shouldn’t be out there alone,” Namjoon said.
         “I know but I need to move.”
         “We can come with you!” Taehyung insisted, “Namjoon is right, you shouldn’t go alone. It’ll be fun!”
       “Would you really?” you asked, face brightening up.
       Namjoon internally cursed his leadership instincts. For a second he really wished he hadn’t said anything, then maybe he wouldn’t be in this situation. There weren’t many things Namjoon hated more than running. Especially when he didn’t have to.
        “I’m actually not dressed for it, sorry,” he said.
       “We’re at home. Your room is literally down the hall, go change,” Hoseok said.
       One thing you liked about dressing so casually every day was that you were always ready for whatever at any moment, which became useful at times like this. It was a habit you had learned to pick up at The Academy and hadn’t lost since.
        “When was the last time we all worked out together? Come on it’ll be just like old times!” you said.
       The boys sighed.
      “I’ll be back,” Namjoon said as he trudged to his room to change.
      “I’ll actually sit this one out,” Seokjin said, “But dinner will be ready by the time you come back.”
        When Namjoon finished, you all left the apartment and walked to the corner.
        “Okay, we’ll make the block twice and come back. That’s it,” Namjoon said.
        The seven of you started jogging down the empty road, the streetlights the only illumination on your path.
        It was entrancing, hearing everyone’s shoes hit the asphalt in a rhythmic pattern. You all began to feel the familiar burn settle in your lungs. You missed times like this honestly. In The Academy you all had to run together every morning at sunrise, a pastime most would rather forget. But some of your best memories were made on those jogs, and you longed for that carefree sense of friendship again. 
        “Hey, I bet I can beat you to that mailbox over there,” Jimin challenged Hoseok.
         “In your dreams. On three. One, two—hey I wasn’t done!”
       Jimin had already bolted away, making Hoseok rush to catch up.
      You noticed that your shoe had come untied, and you stopped in your tracks to fix it. Most of the group was too focused on the race that they weren’t aware that you weren’t running anymore, and continued down the road.
       Yoongi looked behind him and saw you crouched over and circled back.
      You looked up at his approaching frame, “Aww thanks for stopping for me.”
       He scoffed, “Don’t flatter yourself. I just didn’t want to deal with the trouble of finding you if you got abducted or something.”
          You picked up a rock and chucked it at him with the force of a major-league pitcher, but he caught it in his hand effortlessly. If it were anyone else, you knew they would be writhing in pain right now.
         You hated his cat-like reflexes.
        “Nice try,” he said.
         You stood up and ran past him, sticking your tongue out like a child.
         He fought back his growing smirk as he jogged to catch up.
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