#All of the crew is dragged into a punishment for a VERY REASONABLE mistake they didn't even make | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hongism · 4 years ago

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mists of celeste ➻ 39

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ word count: 11.7k ➻ rating: M ➻ warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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✧✧✧ act five ➻ part six

You’ve come to the blinding realization that Jeong Yunho is enjoying himself far too much at this very moment. You are standing here preparing to get dragged to high heaven without relent by Hongjoong, and the healer has made himself comfortable in Hongjoong’s chair behind his desk, feet propped up on the corner with a pen dangling from his lips like it’s a piece of candy. It doesn’t help that whenever he stops staring you down, he shifts to look at the man in front of him with sex-laden eyes and you feel positively out of place in this room right now. You are also fairly certain that he’s smirking every time Hongjoong releases a deep sigh, but you can’t focus on that too much when Hongjoong is dragging this whole process out the way he is. If he would just get on with this inevitable lecture so you don’t lose any further shreds of dignity, that would be much preferred.

As though sensing the gaze on the back of his head, Hongjoong turns in his place to glare back at Yunho.

“Can you stop eye-fucking me for two seconds?”

“Not my fault you’re hot when seething with rage.” Yunho’s quip is thrown hastily back, bringing a huff from Hongjoong’s lips as he shakes his head.

“Knock it off before I kick you out.”

“Cute,” Yunho singsongs back, and he lets a smile stretch around the body of the pen between his teeth. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Now is not the time, Yunho.”

“I hardly mind an audience!”

“You won’t be allowed to go on the recovery mission for Mingi,” the captain starts at last, pointedly ignoring Yunho’s last comment as he redirects his focus to where you stand. Yunho pokes his tongue out alongside the pen, glancing between you and Hongjoong, but you only give him your attention for that brief moment. “I highly doubt I need to even begin to explain why this is my decision, but it would be best for you to hear it directly from me. Your actions last night, to put it mildly, were both irrational and childish. You reacted poorly to an already tense situation and not only put yourself at risk, but the safety of the crew at risk as well. What would have happened if you had killed Jisung last night? We would not have had the location of San and thus had no way of knowing where he is being held. You were reckless on all accounts, refusing to listen to both your captain and your lieutenant, who called out to you multiple times while you were talking with Jisung but you seemed unable to hear him in the slightest.”

All you can do is press your lips together and chew at the inside of your cheek. Hongjoong is not wrong, of course, and you would be the first to admit that your outburst last night was more than just a lapse in judgment. As for Seonghwa trying to get you to stop, you truly have no recollection of that, so if he did attempt that you were unable to hear it. There’s no telling how long Hongjoong was lingering at the edge of the room either or if he called you off at all, but those are just unnecessary details at this point.

“Trying to do things on your own out of a purely emotional reaction does nothing for the crew as a whole. Thus, there is no way in hell I would ever let you go on this mission. Allowing you to go would teach you nothing; it would simply tell you that you can get away with shit like that. And I’m telling you now that you cannot and will not under my command.” Hongjoong brings his arms up to cross over his chest. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, still leaned up against the front of his desk as before, and though his tone reads anger, you can’t find any in his posture. Yunho’s still teasing that pen between his teeth. “Yeosang and Jongho will accompany Jisung to recover Mingi according to the agreement you struck up with Jisung. Whereas you, Y/N, will remain on the bridge being monitored since you cannot seem to act like an adult on your own.”

The not-so-subtle dig should burn your pride, but this is humiliating enough to have you already in the lowest depths of your dignity.

“Along with that, we have come up with a failsafe for if Jisung acts up. If he decides to get rowdy and misbehave himself, then you will be strapped to a chair and punished for each of his missteps. That’s… not a conclusion we came to lightly and it’s not one we wish to enact as you are a member of the crew, but we are not sure how else to keep Han in line.”

“Tch, do your worst,” you scoff. You nearly mirror his stance and cross your arms over your chest, but you think twice when you see the quirk of his brow at your tone. You have pushed your luck enough in the past twenty-four hours, so perhaps you need to hold back just a tad until Hongjoong is less… on edge with you. “I was ready to kill myself last night to stop him. What more can you do to me now?”

Now, it’s Hongjoong’s turn to scoff, and the huff of air that follows is so sharp it sounds like a whistle. He pushes off the desk in the same movement, arms falling down to his sides, and with each following word, he takes a step closer to where you stand.

“You think you can afford to be reckless and risk your life over someone as insignificant and pathetic as Han Jisung?”

He’s close enough to jab a finger into your sternum now, knocking hard against the bone just beneath your collarbone. His height disadvantage from last night is gone as well; he must have had time to make himself presentable before calling you up to be drawn and quartered (seemingly for Yunho’s amusement because he’s just having the absolute time of his life over there).

“Do you have every right to act that way with him? Perhaps you do, but you will not, under any circumstances, threaten your own life to prove a point under my command.” Hongjoong presses closer, enough to hiss his next words against the shell of your ear and leaving you to stare past his shoulder directly at Yunho. “I need you alive. When you agreed to be part of my crew, you trusted me with your life. And as such, I will not allow you to throw your own life around so foolishly. Understood?” The distance between you increases as he leans back. You expect more words from him but all he does is arch a brow and stare at you with inquiry to his gaze.

“Yes, Hongjoong,” you murmur before going back to chewing at your lower lip. Hongjoong catches your chin with his index finger a moment later though, forcing you to look back at him.

“Do not mistake my kindness last night for mercy, Y/N. I am your captain still and you will regard me as such.”

“Yes, Captain,” you grit out, teeth pressed so tight that your jaw hurts as you speak. Hongjoong laughs — whether it’s at your expression or the way you force the words out is unbeknownst to you, but he steps back to give you more space after you respond. Yunho hums from his place at Hongjoong’s desk. He slips the pen out to point the tip in your direction, a cruel smile pulling the corners of his lips up.

“It seems you were right after all, Captain,” he singsongs. “Here I thought you wouldn’t be able to keep her in line.” Hongjoong rolls his eyes a bit at that but does nothing more than sending a half-hearted glare back at Yunho over his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” You ask as you watch their brief interaction with a narrowed gaze of your own.

“Hm, nothing, nothing. Now, the real reason I don’t want you going on the mission to retrieve Mingi is that you will be going on the team to recover San.”

“The what?” You echo, brows rising at the mention of San. Hongjoong continues as though you didn’t interrupt, not pausing to answer your question.

“I don’t want to run the crew too thin as it is, but it’s best to send more people with Jisung in the off chance he does decide to misbehave. Once that team returns, you will be dispatched with Wooyoung to recover San.” Hongjoong pauses to smile a little. “That works out best for you, does it not?”

Frankly, Hongjoong has no reason to send you on the recovery mission for San. If he were truly punishing you, he wouldn’t even let you dream of it. So why?

“Why would you let me go on that mission knowing it’s what I want? Wouldn’t a true punishment be to not send me on that mission?” You inquire against better judgment. Hongjoong shoves his hands into his pockets and tilts his chin to the ceiling.

“The punishment,” he starts in a slow, drawling tone, “is refusing to send you on the mission you tried to plan yourself without my approval. And given how eager you are to both protect San and bring him back unharmed, I know that I can trust you to do that. Initially, I was going to send you alone on this mission but Seonghwa suggested sending Wooyoung along too.”

Even with Seonghwa locked up, they still work together on plans and missions. Despite fighting just yesterday as well. You purse your lips as you listen to Hongjoong talk, moreso because of the mention of Wooyoung and Seonghwa’s suggestion that he come along. Seonghwa knows of Wooyoung’s identity, as well as yours, and those facts combined leave you more baffled than anything else. Why the hell would Seonghwa suggest sending two Sirens off on a dangerous mission like this one?

Hongjoong pulls a hand out of his pocket to tap at his chin.

“Today will be a busy day for all of us, but it should be the last busy day for quite some time. If Jisung complies and everything goes according to plan, that is. Yeosang and Jongho will be leaving to accompany Jisung for Mingi’s retrieval in forty-five minutes. They are slated to return late afternoon. Should the mission go off without a hitch, you and Wooyoung will depart shortly after they get back. I will fill you both in on further details later when you are both present. I hesitate to interrupt whatever Yeosang and Wooyoung may be doing at present.” Yunho snorts at that comment, covering the sound with the back of his hand. “After today, you all will be able to have some time to rest and recover before we move forward. We won’t be leaving the planet immediately though. Seonghwa and I are to depart for a short mission of our own tomorrow.”

He doesn’t add any more detail to that bit of information. You can read the context clues and the shift in mood well enough though, and think you have a good grasp of what that mission might be. Subconsciously, your gaze flits over to Yunho again, but his expression is flat and unreadable, leaving nothing for you to pick up on. Hongjoong offers a strained smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Even though you had many missteps last night, your conversation with Seonghwa was, for the most part, not one of them. You did well and kept your promise to leave the decision in his hands in that regard. Your errors were only in what followed that conversation. It’s not easy for someone in your position to show such empathy, yet you managed to do so anyway. Given what Seonghwa and I talked about after you were dismissed, you… you managed to make him feel a bit more human and helped him recognize that his feelings are not obsolete. So, I thank you for that much. I won’t lecture you any further for now, but I do still have many qualms with how you handled Jisung’s taunting and how that behavior affected Seonghwa in turn. I’m in a decent enough mood to not lecture you about that right now. You have earned a sliver of my trust. Work hard to get my respect next.”

You arch a brow, fighting to hold back the scoff that threatens to spill forth.

“What makes you think I want your respect to begin with?”

Hongjoong matches your expression with a fire of his own, and some light returns to his grin.

“Arrogance.”

///

The cool metal floor of the bridge burns your knees even through the thick material of your pants. You’re trying your best not to let it affect you, but the combination of the freezing cold along with Hongjoong’s unending glare on your back is nothing pleasant. You can’t see his glare head-on, which could either be viewed as a good thing or a bad one depending on your perspective. Right now, however, you find it to be unsettling: the way you kneel in front of the observation window that still overlooks a mostly empty hangar bay with Hongjoong seated in his captain’s chair behind you. It would be entirely less frightening if not for the way Hongjoong is twirling a knife in one hand and humming under his breath, just faint enough for you to overhear although you don’t recognize the tune. With one leg crossed over the other and his chin propped up on his free hand, his position only exudes power. That’s very much a power you can feel all too well in this moment, knowing exactly what the intents and purposes of that knife are.

The captain is communicating with Yeosang through the comms system, and in turn, he’s keeping tabs on Jisung’s behavior throughout their mission. You’re banking on Jisung not acting out of line so you can preferably preserve yourself from further bodily harm, but the threat looms past your shoulder nonetheless. Jongho went along with the pair, another hopeful guarantee of Mingi’s safety, yet you were not even allowed to watch them leave thanks to your behavior last night.

The silence hanging between the two of you is deafening, and your thoughts won’t settle for more than a few seconds, so you’re the one to break the silence once it starts to drag.

“Could I ask you something about tomorrow?”

“Go ahead.”

“If Seonghwa were to regret his decision, what would you do?”

It might be a bit of a loaded question, one that he could very well refuse to answer, and his sharp inhale of breath makes you believe he might just do that. Then, a few breaths later, he speaks.

“There isn’t much I could do,” he admits. “Though I would do anything and everything in my power to ease the burden on his shoulders in that case. And you? What would you do if you reach San too late? If he’s already had the serum injected?”

“Do you truly believe he has?” You inquire back, and despite your attempts to sound firm and resolute, you come across more afraid than anything else.

“I know San’s resilience well enough to believe he would never do that, but that wasn’t the question. No matter how slim the chances of failure are, you must be prepared for any possible outcome.”

“Failure?” You retort, bristling a bit where you are seated. You cast a look over at Hongjoong through the reflection, moreso just to glare at him, but you don’t think he can see you looking. “Recovering San would never be a failure. The only failure on this mission would be not being able to retrieve him.” Despite those claims, you can’t shake the thoughts of San forgetting you in your dreams the previous night. You thought the worst pain imaginable would be finding him dead, but him forgetting you before you get the change to — no, it’s not good to dwell on those concerns now.

“Does that mean then that recovering him even at the cost of his memories is still a success to you?”

“The only failure would be not rescuing him,” you reiterate, pushing your tone a bit so it echoes through the bridge. Hongjoong huffs out a laugh. “During my time in the military, I was taught to accept any possibility on a mission. Even if it’s not what I want, I have to accept that a San who is alive and well but cannot remember me is better than one who is broken, gone, or worse.”

You dare to glance over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of Hongjoong’s face. He’s smiling a little, just enough to cast the shadow of a grin over his lips.

“You never would have passed for an Elitist, you know?”

“Is that supposed to be a criticism?”

“You are choosing the most logical option, yet your reasoning for doing so is purely emotional. Yeosang would have offered no explanation.”

“And yet he cried every night Wooyoung was gone.”

“Of course he did, Y/N. That’s not the point I’m trying to make,” Hongjoong states. He lifts a brow at you. “The key issue most people have when pretending to be Elitists is that they try to erase all signs of emotion. Elitists still have emotions and feel them as strongly as the rest of us. They merely ignore those emotions often in favor of more reasonable and logical outcomes. Yeosang could have cried every night for months straight, but if I had offered an illogical plan to recover Wooyoung, he would not have taken it.”

“I don’t believe that,” you counter, grumbling the words under your breath before turning back to the observation window.

“Did I hear my name? Are you guys gossiping about me without me?”

“Ah, there you are.”

You glance back immediately at the sound of the newcomer, catching the broad grin on Hongjoong’s lips as he too stands to greet Wooyoung.

“What took so long?”

“Yunho did my hair!” The man reaches behind his head and pulls back the top half of his hair as he matches Hongjoong’s smile with his own toothy one. The whole underside is a blinding blond, top half left black and hanging loose around his face. “Looks hot, doesn’t it?” Hongjoong releases what sounds like a snort then swipes a hand at Wooyoung’s. The movement sends a surge of panic through you for a second, not because you think Hongjoong would truly hit Wooyoung, but because of how the younger might react to the hasty swipe. He crushes that fear in an instant, laughing loud and clear as Hongjoong lands his palm on the other’s head and ruffles his newly dyed hair until it’s a mess atop his head.

“Ask Yeosang when he gets back. Did you make time to visit Seonghwa too?”

Wooyoung’s smile wavers some at that.

“I did, yeah.” Wooyoung glances down. Even with the odd angle, you can see the conflict in his features and the way his brows strain to keep from slipping further together. Hongjoong must see it too because he’s next to speak.

“…And?”

“It’s hard seeing him in that position,” Wooyoung says under his breath. “I’m not… not used to it and I hate every ounce of it. I don’t like seeing Seonghwa weak, and even though I know he’s not, it still feels like he is seeing him that way. Brings out old feelings I’d rather not revisit honestly.” Hongjoong brings a hand up to run through his fading blue tresses to hide the way his fingers tremble.

“I’m assuming Han wasn’t present when you went down there?”

“I went before they left this morning. With, um, with Yeosang, but Han seemed to be asleep the entire time. Didn’t move or look at us at least. We — we didn’t talk about anything important either.” Wooyoung’s gaze flits over to where you’re standing. You incline your chin a bit but stay mum, knowing the implication behind his words. They didn’t discuss anything related to Sirens, that is, which is mildly encouraging for you if that means anything at all. “Yunho was gonna head down there when we finished my hair too.”

If that surprises Hongjoong, the captain doesn’t let it show. It shocks you some, on the other hand, given that you’ve witnessed them fight and argue more than they’ve been civil in your time on the crew. Commenting on that won’t do you any good so you stay quiet, eyeing Hongjoong’s demeanor out the corner of your eye while he continues to speak to Wooyoung.

“Anyway, that’s not important right now. The mission?”

“Right, the mission,” Hongjoong mutters even though his mind seems to be elsewhere. He lifts a hand and beckons you closer, and you move to stand alongside Wooyoung near his chair. “Han disclosed the location of the military complex where San is being held. It’s further up in the Upper Echelon than the brother was but also more highly guarded.” Hongjoong pauses to spare a glance in Wooyoung’s direction. “Are you sure you want to come on this mission? I won’t force you if you don’t feel ready.”

At first, all Wooyoung manages is a thick swallow.

“I… I-I want to be ready,” he stutters after a moment of deliberation. “I want — I don’t want what happened to me to affect the well-being of the crew.”

“I can easily go in your place, Woo. I don’t mind if you don’t feel comf—”

“No,” Wooyoung interjects, shaking his head all the while, and Hongjoong actually falls quiet at the interruption. “No, then what? What��s your plan? You want to leave Seonghwa stuck in a cell with Yunho, who can’t fucking kill anyone, as his sole protector while some psychopath mills about the ship as he pleases?”

“Yeosang and Jongho will be back with Mingi by then. We have a plan for Jisung as well, to keep him somewhere out of Seonghwa’s vicinity and within reach. It will have to do temporarily, and besides, Yunho can step up when he needs to.”

“He can’t hold a gun without throwing up; what makes you think he has the balls to kill someone?”

“I — we’re working on that still, admittedly, but he’s getting better.”

“Hongjoong, I’m fine. I talked to Yunho yesterday and ran through the whole screening with him. He didn’t see an issue with me so I’m clear to go on a mission, and I am okay with going on a mission. I’ll be with Y/N the whole time, right? That should be enough! I know how to fight and defend myself. Whatever happened in that brothel shouldn’t bother me.” Wooyoung, if nothing else, is quite adamant, leaving forward into Hongjoong’s space a bit to clutch at his forearm. Hongjoong merely blinks down at the offending hand but does nothing to remove his touch before offering a hesitant nod.

“Okay, I trust you.”

“Are you worried about San?” Wooyoung inquires. His teeth sink into his lower lip moments later. If he aims to probe deeper into Hongjoong’s feelings, the captain does well to not let anything slip through his countenance.

“I worry for all of the crew. San is no different.”

“San is a bit of a special case though, isn’t he?”

Now that’s a first for you. The first you’ve heard such a thing be said about San, that is. You have known since the mission in Echidna that Hongjoong values and cares for San quite a bit. To this extent, however? You’ve not heard anything memorable. Hongjoong and Wooyoung share an unspoken conversation with just that ounce of information, and you are left to your bewilderment. Whatever it is they’re talking about, you have no idea. There’s no time to ask either because Hongjoong clears his throat and dismisses the topic as quickly as Wooyoung brought it up.

“I’ll put the coordinates of the warehouses in Channel 7, so tune over to that channel and sync your wristbands and earpieces. It will just be the three of us and Yeosang listening in this time. As soon as the others get back, Yeosang will bring Jisung to the bridge. I don’t want him with Seonghwa anymore, but we still need to keep him on lockdown for now. Jongho will take Mingi to Yunho and help look after him while you two are away. Yeosang asked to be connected for your sake.”

“Of course he did,” Wooyoung huffs. The roll of his eyes is nothing but affectionate, present but a faux annoyance.

“It’s just for precaution though; you won’t have any backup in there. Once you two are on the ground, you’re on your own.” The discomfort Wooyoung exhibits is minimal and hard to catch. It’s there, however, a shift from foot to foot and a glance over at the wall like something is about to jump out at him. Hongjoong pushes closer and drops his hands atop the younger’s shoulders. “I… hesitate to say this because I do not wish to take this choice away from you, but I think it is in everyone’s best interest to keep you off this mission.”

“No, no, I’m okay. I’m fine! I can go on the mission, Joong, I want to go on the mission,” Wooyoung rambles, head shaking frantically from side to side. “I’m strong enough, I can fight, I can r-recover San. With Y/N. We can recover San.”

“You don’t need to convince me of that, Wooyoung.” Hongjoong’s lips fold down. “I also don’t need you to go on this mission to prove that. I already know those things of you regardless.”

“I just… I w-want to be okay enough to go on the mission because everyone else is,” Wooyoung mutters loud enough for both you and Hongjoong to hear. “Everyone else is okay. I don’t want anyone to — to worry about whether I’m okay or not.”

“Wooyoung…” To your surprise, Hongjoong huffs out a laugh and cracks a strained smile. “My lieutenant has locked himself in the brig, my strategist has been tearing his hair out for days on end and I think I found a bald spot on the back of his head the other day because he’s been so stressed over recovering you, my bruiser is quieter and broods more than ever, and our dear ghost here is dealing with seeing an old teammate who manipulated her memories and kidnapped three members of the crew. I have not slept more than three hours in the past two days, and no more than twelve in the past week. The only person who is even mildly okay right now is Yunho, but that’s only because he is in denial about how much this is weighing on him and using physical pleasures as a way of coping with the stress. You don’t need to be okay because no one else is either. Not right now at least. It would taste a lie to pretend like anything about this situation is something you should be okay with. Once San and Mingi are both back and safe, and once Han Jisung is properly taken care of, then we’ll be able to rest and recover.”

“I — o-okay.” Wooyoung’s shoulders fall forward as he relents, but he doesn’t put up more of a fight. “Does Yeosang really have a bald spot though? I mean, I yanked his hair pretty hard last night because I got a bit carried away and saw something on the back of his head but I thought I was just seeing things. Is it actually there? Maybe I should be more gentle with his poor head then.”

“You — Wooyoung, I-I am not — this is hardly important!”

“Excuse you, my lover’s hair growth is extremely important!”

“He has a fucking bald spot, I already told you that much. Now, enough out of you, and get some legitimate rest while you can. Or if you’re feeling restless, you can see if Yunho needs help with anything in the medbay.”

“Yes, Captain.” Wooyoung bows his head a tad before sending a half-hearted wave in your direction. You return the gesture with a smile, watching him turn on his heel and exit the bridge the way he came. His shoulders are pushed back a bit more this time, there’s some confidence to his steps that he didn’t have when he came, and you can practically feel the relief that oozes off his body even when he’s out of sight.

“So that leaves just us then?” You ask once you tear your gaze away from the archway.

“We’ll keep Yeosang on the line since Seonghwa will still be unavailable. Nothing else about the plan will need to change.” Hongjoong turns back to sit in his chair once more, but you stay put, watching his movements out the corner of your eye.

“You mentioned going back out into the city tomorrow. When do you plan to leave for that?”

“If everything goes well today then… hm, we’ll probably leave the planet around three days from now? Just in case Yunho needs other supplies that we don’t have readily available here on the ship.”

“So there will be one last day here before we all leave? Where we should all be on the ship, I mean?” Teeth sink into your lower lip after you pose the question. Hongjoong’s gaze turns analytic and searching, but you offer no more information as it is.

“Yes…” He affirms after several seconds of hesitation. “Why is it you’re so curious?”

“Something has been bothering me since recovering Wooyoung from the brothel.”

“Enlighten me.”

In all honesty, you weren’t expecting to even get this far with the conversation. Part of you thought Hongjoong would shut you down before you got a chance to explain yourself, and all the thoughts you had of bringing this up to him were fleeting and momentary. The lack of prior planning makes you stop in your tracks and stutter over air.

“I – in, um, while Jongho and I were waiting for Yeosang to go through, I c-came across a girl who used to be on my team. Back in the military, I mean. She was a worker there and apparently has been since my team defected. It’s… I understand that I’m not in any position to ask for things, and she didn’t ask me to help her in any way, but I can’t help but to want to get her out of there. Seeing what Wooyoung suffered in there wasn’t pleasant, and I can’t rest easy thinking of her suffering the same way.”

Sure you promised Soojin that you would help her find leads on Ash and Juyeon without saying you would help her get out, but her only reason for not wanting freedom was the lack of a place to go. “I don’t have anything left out there beyond the House.” If you could do anything to convince Hongjoong to take her in, even just for a short period of time to get her back on her feet, that would be more than ideal.

“You can’t rest easy? Then forget about her.”

“I — what?” You should not have let yourself have an ounce of hope, it seems.

“Put her out of your mind and forget about her if you do not wish to imagine her suffering.”

“Hongj— Captain, I can hardly—”

“Y/N, your former teammates seem to have a streak of being less than kind. Don’t forget how you acted in your first few days on the ship. How can I trust someone I don’t even know to not do the same? And all things considered, I cannot trust your memory to recall the truth.” Hongjoong lifts his brows as he speaks. There is no anger in his features or in his tone; moreso a sense of finality that offers the smallest window for you to argue back on the matter. You take the chance nonetheless.

“She can vouch for herself seeing as she helped us escape. You can ask Jongho and Wooyoung as well, they witnessed it as well as how she helped me. Jisung tried to kill her the night of the mission — he sent an assassin to dispatch her before she could see me simply because he knew we would come across each other. And she told me part of what truly happened the night I killed the king, and I believe what she said.” You pause to inhale a deep breath of air, lungs straining from the sheer amount of air you are trying to force into them. “Captain, I am not looking for you to drop everything for her. The last two living teammates of my team left with her, but she was alone with no knowledge of where they are or if they are even alive.”

“Why waste time thinking of the dead?”

“Why forget about them when there is even the slightest chance they’re alive?” You counter. You don’t intend to sound so inflamed about the topic, but the heat resides in your tone and burns the tense air hanging between you and the captain. His jaw shifts. “I would be content even if you could only promise that I have a way to deliver information about them back to her if possible. I know you have contacts here on Dorado.”

“And I suppose you’ve come up with an entire escape plan as well?”

“I — no, I hadn’t thought of that. To be honest, I’m not even sure she wants to be saved, but that could only be because she doesn’t see a way out.”

“You have a knack for wanting to save people who don’t want to be saved. You and Seonghwa are similar in that matter, but there comes a time where you must realize you can’t be everyone’s savior.”

“What do you mean by that?”

One corner of Hongjoong’s lips quirks upwards, and he arches a brow to match the movement.

“Is it really that hard to figure out? The pardon papers, to begin with, the whole reason you even met the crew. Did you think I had no clue of what your intentions were on that military ship? Especially when my intentions were the same? Imagine my surprise when I arrived in the captain’s cabin to learn you had taken them already.”

“Why did you hold off on that information all this time?” You had been convinced at the time that it was for no other reason than to cause a bit of chaos and steal some cargo. But to find out that Hongjoong had the same goal? What’s his play here?

“I no longer need those papers so it would have been futile to mention them before now. They were meant to be a bargaining chip for the client I met on Echidna, but seeing as he is dead and gone… hardly important, no? But that’s beside the point — your intentions are what we’re discussing. Who were those papers meant for? Had they been for you, you wouldn’t still be lingering around the crew like this, would you? I think you imagined you would be able to save Jisung in some way with them.”

“Hardly!” You sneer back, clutching blindly at your chest as though to find the spot where you used to hide those papers. They aren’t there anymore, you know that, and yet you still ball a fist around the fabric over your chest. “They were never meant for him, but I didn’t imagine this was the kind of person he would turn out to be!”

“Then they were meant for this girl you came across? One of the other two who are missing? Or perhaps was it another, who is no longer present? What is it you think death really is, Y/N? Why do you keep clinging to someone who is no longer alive? What good does pardoning him do?”

You have no response or defense. Nothing you say will appease Hongjoong; you believe that with every fiber of your being, and the way he is staring you down currently offers no relief.

“You see, Y/N,” Hongjoong starts as he pushes up off his seat. He stays up on the platform with his chair, looming over you with the height of the stairs to his advantage, and now there’s a special glint to his gaze that leaves you transfixed. “Your issue that when it comes time to make a difficult decision, when push comes to shove, you turn tail and run. If I had given you a single key last night and told you that you had the power to release one person in the brig, who would you have chosen?”

“Seonghwa.”

“Who would you have chosen?” Hongjoong persists, stepping further into your space.

“What are you trying to get at? I gave my answer already. It would be Seonghwa, and that’s that.”

“And if it had been before the conversation we shared before you went into the brig?”

“It never would have been Jisung,” you snap back.

“All he had to say was ‘I’ll take you to San’ and you would have released him without a second thought.”

Fuck.

Fuck. You have to clench your jaw to keep from exhaling your frustration, but it only highlights your annoyance.

“You’re saying you wouldn’t?”

“No, I wouldn’t, because I know he would have given up that information eventually, Y/N.” Hongjoong’s gaze is anything but smug and gloating — if anything he’s regarding you with no emotion at all. It’s still enough to cause you to drop your chin to your chin and huff out a mirthless laugh.

“Is this the part where you say caring is weakness?”

“No, I would be quite the hypocrite if I said that. I’m telling you that you have to accept the fact that there are people who cannot be saved. Whether that’s because they do not wish to be saved or because it is impossible to save them. Let yourself care about people; that’ll keep you alive. But caring too much? There’s your weakness.”

“That’s bold of you to say, is it not? Where’s the line then, Captain? When it becomes love?”

“Love? Love is a concept made by weak people for those with even weaker wills.”

And when Hongjoong breathes those words, you almost believe them. Face value, meaningless terms such as love — what good have they ever done you? You and Seonghwa never loved each other, not truly at least because otherwise, things wouldn’t have fallen apart the way they did. Your memories tell you that Jisung loved you in some sense at one point but what did that do? Cause him to have a psychotic break? Cause you to ruin the only good you had in your life?

You hate the image that comes to the forefront of your mind. The memory that accompanies it is almost more painful.

“But I just feel like I’m broken glass that’s been put back together the wrong way.”

“Then I’ll take you apart and put you back together the right way.”

You clench a fist by your side, squeezing the skin around your knuckles in a way that has your nail digging into it. It does nothing to will away the dimpled smile in your mind, nor does it make your breathing come any easier, but Hongjoong continues on and offers enough distraction for you to ground yourself.

“Depending on how today and tomorrow go, I will consider our options and what’s possible for your friend. But I will not risk the safety of my crew again.”

“What happens once San and Mingi are back?” You inquire, head tilting naturally to the side. “Do you plan to kill Jisung and be done with it or…?”

Hongjoong’s initial response is a firm shake of his head.

“We’re already weak and spread thin as it is. I can’t risk endangering the crew further by starting a war between Jisung’s crew and ours.”

“Jisung won’t just leave if you ask him to.”

Hongjoong’s gaze flits over to the side, a hasty and clever avoidance of your stare as he finds purchase on some dent in the wall.

“Yunho and I did some talking last night… about the serum and how it works.”

“Is that your definition of pillow talk?” You scoff. Hongjoong jerks his head back in your direction and settles a sharp glare on you that holds little actual anger to it.

“Jisung knows a lot about it and how it works. Yunho hopes to be able to get some information out of him once he’s back with the others. We still have leftover vials from the Kebos mission. If you wanted, we could administer a dose on Jisung and make him forget all about you.”

“If I wanted,” you echo, pointing a finger at yourself as you emphasize the word.

“If you wish for the choice to be in my hands, then I can be cruel for you. But just as with Seonghwa and his mother, as well as Mingi and his choice to not use the serum, this is something personal. The choice is yours to make as he is your past and not mine.”

“I’ll consider it,” you whisper. The weight of that choice is undeniable even if tempting because of how glorious a revenge it would be to do the same thing he did to you back to him. Just doing it back to him won’t fix what Jisung did to you, however, nor will it bring Hyunwoo back from that empty grave. “You sure are giving me a lot of choices for someone who is supposedly upset at me.”

“Hm, well, you are also not allowed to go back to the brig unsupervised from now on. Does that work for you? Ample punishment?”

“Nevermind, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Punishment is never effective for people like you, Y/N,” Hongjoong retorts. “It doesn’t encourage you to do better because you do not care about having to go through some sort of punishment. Keeping you from going to get san would only make you more likely to go against my orders. You are someone who needs different consequences for your actions. You don’t like being held back or feeling small and powerless? I strip you of what power you imagine yourself to have and hold you back from minute things like going to the brig alone.”

“That’s not true,” you scoff, arms coming up to cross over your chest at the same time.

“Oh? And what if I told you right now that I was disappointed in your actions last night? That I thought I could trust you to not make rash decisions, to think with your head and not your heart? I told you earlier that I still have qualms about how you handled Jisung and what effect that had on Seonghwa. Whatever respect I had for you before then was lost in that moment. You may have a sliver of my trust, but respect? You lack that entirely.”

“Don’t say meaningless things, Captain, it doesn’t suit you.” You bite the words out between gritted teeth. If anything, your show of anger only amuses Hongjoong further. “That means nothing to me, as I said before. Why should I care about your respect?”

“Do you truly mean that, Y/N? People like you thrive off the approval of others. Is that not why you let yourself be entangled with Seonghwa for so long? I wouldn’t expect those feelings of respect to linger if I were you.”

“Do you simply thrive on taunting me?” The counter betrays how stupidly affected you truly are by his statements and questions. And deep down, sure, you know he is absolutely correct in saying all that, and you blatantly ignored a lot of things in favor of latching onto the respect and care Seonghwa provided, but for someone as arrogant as Hongjoong to point it out? You hardly want to agree with him now.

“Follow me.”

You could stand your ground and deny the captain, put on a little tantrum and show your denial, but in the long run, that would only prove Hongjoong right. So, against what you truly want to do, you push your legs into action and trail after Hongjoong when he begins to step away from his chair. Admittedly, you are waiting for the hammer to drop: perhaps he’s bringing you to an airlock and finally knocking you out of it. Nothing happens though, and you are left to glare at the clacking heels of his boots as he leads you further down into the ship. It isn’t until you reach your destination that you realize exactly where Hongjoong has taken you.

It’s a rich form of torture from him, to take you to the brig as though to taunt you with your regrets from last night. He doesn’t even bat an eye as he lifts the hatch and motions for you to enter. At the very least, Jisung’s cell is empty (as expected) and he cannot add to the mockery of your pride and dignity.

The moment your boots hit the floor, the rattling of Seonghwa’s chains resound. Hongjoong follows, hitting louder than you did, then the hatch snaps shut and seals you inside the brig like it’s your doomsday.

“Y/N?” Seonghwa calls out. He must have felt the tug in his chest that you did when you hit the floor, the tiniest bit of connection holding the two of you together. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if Wooyoung perhaps felt the same just now.

Instead of finding you, however, Seonghwa is forced to greet Hongjoong first as the captain rounds the corner before you do.

“Joong…” Seonghwa starts, trailing off as he sees you standing just past the captain’s shoulder. “What’s the meaning of this?”

Hongjoong doesn’t answer immediately; he approaches Seonghwa’s cell and reaches a small hand between the bars to catch hold of his lieutenant’s chin. His grip isn’t tight or bruising, just enough to guide Seonghwa’s face up so he can look the other in the eye.

“What was it you told me last night after I dismissed Y/N?”

“…I would not repeat it in front of her, Captain.”

“You said you were scared. You were afraid of what you saw in her right then, that’s what you said. Was it not?”

“I — it was, yes, but I—"

“You told me that you saw a direct reflection of yourself in her. The version of yourself that you fear and hate the most. Did you or did you not say that?”

“Please, Hongjoong, is this not cruel?” Seonghwa begs. He doesn’t budge from Hongjoong’s grasp but he spares a few darting glances your way as he speaks. Hongjoong follows his line of sight to land on where you’re standing several feet away.

“This is a lesson in obedience for you, Y/N. You want to be feared? Fine, go out and be feared by our enemies. But your own crew should never be afraid of you. How do you expect them to trust something they fear?”

You clench your fists by your side. White-hot anger swells in your chest.

“That’s unfair. Do you say the same thing to Mingi?” You snap back, but you’re unable to bring yourself to look at Seonghwa.

“You are not Mingi, Y/N. Far from it actually. And as such I will not have my crew fear you or what you might do. You don’t care for my disappointment or respect? So be it. But I hope you dwell on the knowledge that Seonghwa, the man who knows you possibly better than anyone else on the crew, who has been with you intimately, laid with you in the most vulnerable positions possible, a man who has put his life and well-being in your hands, was afraid of you because of your actions last night.” Hongjoong’s fingers curl a little harder under Seonghwa’s chin, and the captain returns to staring the chained man in the eye when he speaks next. “I asked one thing of you last night, Y/N, and you promised to uphold it.”

“I am willing to trust you with this and with Seonghwa, at least for now. Take care to remember that, especially when it comes to Seonghwa’s heart. For if you mislead him in the slightest, there will be hell to pay.”

“Instilling fear into my lieutenant’s heart was a poor choice on your part.”

“It wasn’t — I didn’t choose to do that!”

“The ice under your feet is quickly cracking, Y/N, so I suggest you take great care with your next words and actions. Otherwise, I will make certain that your only purpose here is to be nothing but a key to my treasure.”

“Hongjoong, don’t you dare sa—”

His hold on Seonghwa disappears in a quick shove, the chains around Seonghwa’s neck rattling as he moves with the push. The lieutenant falls silent in an instant, and he squeezes his eyes shut as though to keep himself from fighting back. Your fists tighten by your sides but you don’t dare move when Hongjoong’s glare is so full of animosity that it could burn you from across the room.

“Be prepared to leave within the next thirty minutes before I change my mind about bringing you on this mission. The others will return soon.”

“Y/N — Hongjoong.” Seonghwa pushes himself up enough to stretch a hand through the bar and catch the end of Hongjoong’s coat tail. “Do not do this, please, this is far from what I wanted! You promised to protect her and—”

“And I am still protecting her. As long as she remains useful.”

“H-He, Y/N, he doesn’t — he’s not… that’s not what he means!”

“If you wish me to be your perfectly silent little weapon, Captain, then so be it,” you spit, ignoring Seonghwa’s pleas. Hongjoong yanks his jacket free of the man’s grasp and steps out of his reach. “But only because I benefit from this too. When it comes time for me to uphold my end of the bargain to Jisung, don’t expect me to be as willing to stay in your care.”

“Y/N, no, no, no—”

“You don’t get to talk, Seonghwa, not when you were the first to let me go.” That stops the lieutenant in his tracks because he knows you have him pinned there. Still, his jaw works in a hapless rhythm that leaves him with stuttering breaths and small noises of frustration.

“That was — that was before I-I knew what he was like, Y/N.”

“I won’t have this conversation in front of an audience, Seonghwa,” you mutter. It’s moreso an attempt to save yourself from the all too painful clench in your chest. If either man before you notices that, they opt not to comment on it, but Hongjoong gives a small shake of his head.

“Then you have thirty minutes to have it now. You had best be at the west airlock by then,” he says just before shoving past you with nothing more than a tiny glance back at Seonghwa. You are of half a mind to follow him out without a word, to leave Seonghwa where he is because you have been avoiding this exact conversation, but you can’t get your legs to function even after the hatch to the brig falls shut behind Hongjoong when he exits.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk to me, Y/N, and you don’t—”

“That’s not the issue here, Seonghwa,” you interject before he can finish the thought. The next sound to leave his lips is a laugh but it sounds so heartless and void of life that guilt twinges in your chest.

“Is it because I said I was afraid of you? Or has your heart finally grown cold towards me as I expected it to from the start?”

“Don’t say that.” You intend for the words to come out with venom, but they sound more like a heartbroken plea than anything else. Seonghwa licks the edges of his dry and cracking lips. “Do you think I’m so cruel?”

“It… no, Y/N, I don’t. It’s because I don’t that I think it’s only a matter of time.” Seonghwa forces a hand up to curl into his dark locks, tugging at the strands at best he can as his chains rattle around him. “I think your heart is too big for your chest, just like San. And even if it was not my intention, I think I used that against you in many ways.”

“I was the one who initiated things, Seonghwa. I asked you to… to have sex with me and distract me. I used you to start with, so I know I carry blame as well.”

“I still pushed you even though I knew how much San means to you.”

“That…” You trail off only because emotion lodges so deep in your throat that it hurts. Swallowing it back down hurts even more, but you manage it without more than a grimace. “At the time, I didn’t realize what that meant or what he meant to me. Even now, I don’t think I fully grasp what my feelings are towards him. That doesn’t mean — I never resented you, and I still don’t.”

“Separation has the power to make us realize things we were blind to,” Seonghwa mutters back. “It made me realize I was unfair to you, even after I promised I would not have you unfairly.”

“I didn’t think it to be unfair.”

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t.”

“Why are you so desperate to be a martyr?”

“Why won’t you accept that I wronged you?”

“Do you want me to hate you?” You fire back, taking a quick step in Seonghwa’s direction. He straightens some and pulls himself to his knees.

“I don’t know how to fix the places where I went wrong. I… I wish to hear them from you if only to know that you know what I did wrong, or — or just understand that it’s not merely my mind trying to trick me.” Seonghwa looks weak again: pressed on his knees in a way that must hurt, head hanging to hide his eyes, fists clenched around the fabric of his pants. As confident and strong as he sounds, his posture only reads weakness.

“I never thought about it, Seonghwa,” you admit through the breath of silence that follows. “Perhaps we were both blind to it at the time because we — well, I thought you were all I had. I didn’t know what Wooyoung was at the time, I didn’t ever have another Siren in my life, and you were the first person I had with who I could share that burden. I understand withholding information about Wooyoung’s identity from the others, but why me? Especially given that you all knew there was some sort of connection between us. You still held that back from me until there was no more avoiding it. And you did the same with your… relationship with Hongjoong, and I’m not one to be jealous or demanding, but if you still loved him — and I think we both know how you feel about him even now — then I wish you had said that. I should have told you how I felt about San at the time as well, especially as I began to realize it more and more.”

“I would have told you about Wooyoung in an instant, I promise you that much, Y/N. If it had been my place, I would never have let you believe we were alone in that way. But Wooyoung was never ready to tell you until he didn’t have a choice any longer.”

“And as for your lingering feelings towards Hongjoong?”

“I should have told you sooner, yes. I truly believed… I didn’t imagine those feelings were still lingering until I was faced with almost losing him.” Seonghwa at last shifts his pathetic stance, folding his legs under his body until he’s in a more comfortable sitting position.

“When we talked about me leaving with Jisung, and — Seonghwa, you didn’t hesitate to say that your fate is to die at Hongjoong’s side. I just wanted you to ask me to stay. But you didn’t ask me to, and your first reaction wasn’t to do that either. You’ll never be mine, Seonghwa. Not completely, and… right now, in this present we’re living in, I don’t think you can ask me to be okay with that. If you love both of us, then so be it. I see no fault in that, and I’m not trying to say you are at fault for it either, but that moment hurt more than I think you realize.”

“Then I apologize,” he whispers. He lifts his chin just a hair, enough to look you in the eye and enough for you to see the steely resolution in his gaze.

“Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

“I believe there I need to apologize for many things. But primarily, I led you to believe I would be wholly yours knowing — knowing that I would never be able to give you that. Y/N, I did not lie to you once about how I felt. Even if my previous promises were empty in your eyes, please know I am genuine in saying that.”

“I’m sorry too, for not realizing my feelings sooner and leading you in a different direction all the while.”

“I have to respectfully disagree, Y/N.” Seonghwa smiles a little, although it’s a sad little grin that’s tight-lipped and doesn’t reach his eyes. “You didn’t lead me on, from my point of view. As you said, until Wooyoung’s revelation, you thought I was all you had. I think it was only natural for us to pursue each other on a physical level in that way. Feelings were bound to get complicated eventually. I knew they would because that’s how it was with Hongjoong so I… should have known earlier on.” Seonghwa lets out a shaky sigh. The smile crumbles and leaves no trace behind, only drifting into a thin line. “San cares about you a lot, Y/N, and I wish for you to have someone like him who can give you his all.”

“Bold of you to give such advice when you and Hongjoong continue to dance around each other,” you whisper through a grin. Either the words or the warmth of your tone bring a genuine huff of laughter out of Seonghwa’s chest.

“It’s what we do best. Yunho is good for him in lots of ways. He needs someone who can fuck with no strings attached and without feelings getting in the way of things. Yunho loves all of us in different ways, and how that love manifests is different for everyone as well. I cannot fault him for comforting Hongjoong the only way Hongjoong knows how.” Seonghwa squeezes his eyes shut, but the smile persists, and it looks more like he’s visiting an old memory somewhere in the back of his mind rather than that he is in pain. “Don’t worry about me, Y/N. You should focus on getting San back and making sure he does not slip through your fingers this time.”

“I think I’ll always worry about you, pretty boy.” You hate how fragile your tone is; there’s too much of a tremor to it, and you sound far too sad for the smile painting your lips.

“Always is a long time, princess.”

“Is that a problem?”

“I don’t mind always.” Seonghwa hums. It’s a content and pleased little sound, nothing indecent, yet his lips tremble even as he pushes his tongue between his teeth. If his eyes were open, you’re confident you would see red rimming his irises and clear tears ready to fall.

There is nothing left to say for now: maybe at some point in the future this is a conversation to revisit and resurrect, but now it’s final in a bittersweet sense. The feeling of walking away this time hurts more than it usually would, although you think you might be able to feel the ache in Seonghwa’s chest without being Sirens. There’s no use in wondering if he feels the ache in yours — the line between his pain and yours is a thin and blurring one, overlapping and twisting together with two threads of different colors. And if Seonghwa has always been a fire in your eyes, then his would be a bright red thread that twists around your finger and keeps you linked to him even as you leave the brig.

The time to feel sad and mourn the loss of whatever feelings lingered between you and Seonghwa is far from now. Perhaps that is cruel torture in and of itself. To lose the chance to mourn is something you think you’re familiar with, but there’s no guarantee that those memories are real. So instead of crying or letting the pain swell, you merely bite down hard on the tip of your tongue until that ache moves elsewhere. It’s enough for now; the thought of what your next mission is and how important it is chases all other thoughts away.

San has been gone long enough.

You’ll take him back if it’s the last thing you do.

“Y/N!”

That voice tears you free of the thoughts plaguing you, and you jolt to a halt in the middle of the hallway you’re currently standing in to find the source of the voice. There’s a flash of black before you. Panic thrums in your nerves, a quick fear that you might be under attack, but then something warm hits you. It’s like a wave, washing over your insides and dispelling that fear as quickly as it appeared.

“Wooyoung,” you exhale just before your eyes settle on his bright and smiling face.

“Mingi’s back, they got Mingi back! They’re coming in the airlock now, let’s go!” Wooyoung grins from ear to ear, the smile splitting his cheeks and making his face glow with joy. You let him grab hold of your wrist without complaint, and he tugs you further down the corridor. “They said he’s okay. Healthy too. Safe. He’s safe. They healed his wound at the warehouse to prep for his treatment, but Jongho and Yeosang got to him before they could hurt him any.”

“One step closer to having to leave,” you murmur, moreso to yourself than to the man before you. He picks up on the words nonetheless, and his hurried steps slow to a dragging walking pace that has you regretting opening your mouth.

“What?” He asks. The smile falls into a deep-seated frown, and you hate it. You hate it so much. The idea of leaving them like this, even if Hongjoong swore not to let you go, you don’t see any other way for this to end peacefully. The only way for everyone involved to come out of this safe and in one piece is for you to go along with your deal with Jisung.

“Nothing,” you whisper. Wooyoung tightens his fingers around your wrist.

“No, what do you mean by that? Having to leave?”

“Oh, come on, Wooyoung,” you laugh through your teeth. “Did you think there was no cost for getting the three of you back? Let’s just go see Mingi. We don’t need to talk about this now.” You try to pull your arm free of Wooyoung’s grip to no avail. All he does is yank you back to face him when you step around his body.

“What did you do?”

“What I had to, Wooyoung. He wasn’t going — he wouldn’t have helped us find you without a price.”

“And the price was you?” Wooyoung cries, loud enough to echo off the metal around your forms. “He doesn’t get to own you, Y/N!”

“It’s not ownership. I’ll go along with him long enough to — to figure something out, then I’ll leave and—”

“And what? You think a man like that will just let you leave?”

“Look, Wooyoung, I knew what I was getting into. I agreed to it myself because I wanted to and because it was the closest thing to a guarantee of your safety, as well as San’s and Mingi’s. If this is the price for your lives, then so be it. It’s okay.”

“Like hell it is. He’ll get my fist put through his throat for even thinking about it,” Wooyoung hisses, nose scrunching up as his face contorts into a scowl. You have to bite your tongue to keep from rolling your eyes.

“I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Too fucking bad.” Wooyoung shoves your arm down with a huff. You don’t even have a second to breathe before he’s rushing back down the hall, continuing your path from earlier and moving so quickly that you have to jog to catch up to him.

“You’re mad at me for saving your life?” You retort to his back. It does nothing to stop him, and the only reaction you get out of him at first is the tension in his shoulders. “As I recall, you threw yourself down for San and Mingi while captured!”

“That was to fucking protect all of us! I knew what I was doing, I knew I would be safe, and I knew they couldn’t hurt me any more than I’ve hurt myself, Y/N.” Wooyoung reels on you just before turning the corner at the end of the corridor. The rage in his expression is more than you can handle, much more intense than you imagined it would be. “We may be similar — we might have pieces of our pasts that line up and mirror each other. But don’t think for a fucking second that I’m supposed to roll over and let you do what I would do. I’m stupid, I’m a fucking idiot, I’ll take whatever punishment I think I can to protect people, and I always fucking go too far. You are going too far. And I refuse to let some asshole with a god complex pretend like he has the power to own another human being. You might be okay with the idea of it, you might think it isn’t as bad as you imagine it to be, but as for me? I refuse to let you lose your freedom. I will put myself on the line any day before I let anything happen to this crew.”

Your jaw stutters dumbly as you struggle to come up with a counterattack. Wooyoung doesn’t wait for you to figure one out either; he returns to his stampede down the hall and leaves you to play catch up once more. And admittedly, by the time you do catch up, there is nothing you could possibly do to keep him from reaching his end goal. Someone opens their mouth to greet him, but you don’t even have time to process whose voice it is before they’re cut short by Wooyoung’s next move.

“Wooyo—”

Wooyoung’s knee careens into a body and hits so hard that body crumples in half. It’s only when Wooyoung threads his fingers through dark hair and yanks upwards that you catch who exactly it is. Jisung stumbles with the motions, chains rattling and shaking as he does. Wooyoung gives him only a second to catch his breath before he’s shoving Jisung face first into the metal wall.

“Hi there,” Wooyoung huffs with another tug to Jisung’s scalp. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting officially yet. You’ve been quite lucky to be in the care of such merciful people.”

“You can’t possibly be the mongrel Y/N has been so distressed about, can you?” Jisung spits over his shoulder. Wooyoung grins wide at that, cheeks pressing upwards and eyes turning to half-moons.

“No.” Another harsh shove and Jisung’s head bounces against the wall. “No, Jisung, I’m the man who is going to make you regret every second of life you’ve had if you even think about laying another finger on her.”

You tug your stare off the pair to glance around, mostly in search of Mingi, and as Wooyoung said, the Berserker does seem relatively safe and unharmed. Almost like he wasn’t even gone aside from a fading bruise on his cheekbone. He’s got one hand balled into a fist and the other tucked into the safety of Jongho’s palm. It’s not enough of a guarantee that he’s okay mentally and emotionally, but at least seeing him visibly alright is reassuring in and of itself. Yeosang stands close to Hongjoong, unmoving and staring forward at Wooyoung without trying to stop him. Hongjoong himself doesn’t do anything either, and you realize then that this is a moment of retribution for all of them in some way. Even me, you think as Jisung writhes under Wooyoung’s tightening grip.

“Get in line then,” he manages to hiss, even if it’s muffled by the wall. “These three dumbasses already left me with many colorful threats the entire way back here.”

“Oh, I will, but you should be aware that there is one person at the end of that line who will end your life in a heartbeat for even thinking you could own Y/N. And he’s about to come back to this very ship that you’re trapped on. So how about you start barking again and see what happens?”

Hongjoong finally pulls forward, and when he does, he wears a wide smile and folds his arms over his chest. He only steps forward enough to lurk just past Wooyoung’s shoulder, standing with a slight tilt so he can look at Jisung out the corner of his eye.

“Checkmate, Han. Let’s see what good your dogs can do with their king backed into a corner.”

✧✧✧ a/n: oakyoakyokayokayo so admittedly i ended up splitting this chapter up and moving the second half of it to the NEXT chapter bc yeah this one would have been over 20k if i didn’t whoopsie! but here we are lots of talking ! in this one, the action comes in the next one bc of the way i shifted things so eheheheh :3 the next might comes sooner than usual we shall see ;) as always ! let me know what u think n how u feel !

taglist: @faeriewoobin @sugarrimajins @atinyinwonderland @sparklychangbin @jeong-uwu @jeonartemis @anothershorthuman @xxbluestrifexx @haotheheckk @noonawriter @lostscenarios @nlost21 @mirror-juliet @purple-aeon @theoinkypiglet @toothlessshiber @atinyarmyx1 @simpforhyunjin @hwangwoosan @softyubi @drumboydowoon @chatsgotmytongue @just-a-starfruit @babydolljo @scintillating-souls @khjssss @icekdy @eggteez @bangtanxberm @uglychildd @lucymultistan @revehosh @choistan @vampyrejimin @unminuit @vitaminkel-c

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #mists of celeste #mingi x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yeosang x reader #jongho x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #yunho x reader #ateez angst fluff smut #ateez series #ateez pirates #ateez space pirates

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anonymousbaev · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Hope you have time for this one! Rfa+minor trio would they be heros or villans say if they were in some kind of superhero crap and what kind of hero/villan would they be? Sorry weird request hehe

RFA+Minor Trio+Rika and Mc Hero/Villain Headcanon

Hello thank you for the request! Not at all is it weird, the idea's very fresh, I love it! (I needed a break from my cheating fics so here's a mini headcanon!) ^~^ *WARNING: Slight spoiler for Tower Of God and Mystic Messenger (obviously haha)*

☆Yoosung☆

Yoosung would most definitely be a hero, and his hero life is probably a sitcom.

Comedy-wise Yoosung is probably the clumsy kind of hero where he makes cute and silly mistakes.

But at the end of the day, all goes well and the world is once again rescued by the great and mighty Yoosung.

In a more serious theme however, Yoosung is probably one of those protagonists that start out to be really innocent and clueless on the topic of fighting.

Later becoming really skillful with character development after a tragic event triggers a power in him? Lol (Kind of like Bam in Tower of God, anyone read that? Yes? Just me?)

☕️ Jaehee ☕️

A freaken cool hero. An ordinary office assistant for a hella bossy trust fund kid, until... evil arises and hero Baehee to the rescue.

She probably has to make a lot of unconvincing excuses to Jumin in order to go out during work and save the day.

By night, she's probably so fed up with everything. Nothing and nobody will get in her way, all she wants to do is finally get some rest and cuddle in for some Zen DVDs.

But nope, apparently the new villain is in town, she practically has to drag herself out with the most dreadful eyebags under her eyes.

Somebody please give this poor woman a break.

♬ Zen ♬

Freaking sexy villain that steals hearts, literally. But he wouldn't be a total villain, cause, hell-o? He's a sweetheart? He would never harm innocent people?

At first he'd be introduced as the 'bad guy' but you'll later realize it was all a misunderstanding. He was even helping the protagonist behind the scenes and later joins the good team.

Plus, Zen would be one of those handsome villains you just cant hate:

"B-but I have to cheer for the protagonist... bUtt I JUST CANT CAUSE UGH WHY IS THE ANTAGONIST (ZEN) SO H0T?"

Oh and, if you're the protagonist, he'd probably flirt with you.

♛ Jumin ♛

Semi-villain, and probably misunderstood like Zen. Later he would join the 'good team' as well.

You just assume he's a villain because he's the heir of the 'bad guys' company. But he's such a darling.

He would probably be the most powerful and important character in the whole plot. He got that money and bodyguards, people working for him, etc.

People's first thought to assuming Jumin is a villain would be:

"ANOTHER FREAKING HOT VILLAIN?"

👓 Saeyoung 👓

"Defender of Justice, 707 to the rescue!"

He would be such a well written hero, his story will go down in history.

A cheerful and happy go lucky hero with backstory. His character has so much of depth.

Hard to not like this fellow.

You better not mess with Seven or anyone he cares for though, because he's not playing games when you do.

All jokes and cheery, till it becomes serious and he turns into a smoking hot hero.

Cue dramatic transformation scene and he becomes extra sharp and handsome without the glasses.

♧ Jihyun ♧

A villain.

Of course the poor baby had and still has the bestest of intentions.

He only wants to bring everyone the peace and happiness they deserve.

But get too greedy, cause the world doesn't work like that and your actions can reflect to have the opposite effect.

He's lost, and he never meant for it to happen. But things that already happened, happened and scars are bound to be left.

But maybe... someone out there can show him, it's not late to make things right.

🌚 Saeran 🌚

A villain and a puppet, controlled to complete evil deeds.

But for the most part, he would be a character you will feel sympathy towards, because you know those actions aren't his intentions.

He would also be a victim saved by the hero at one point of the story.

Also would join the good team after healing to get revenge on the people that controlled him and help other victims still held captive.

🧸 Vanderwood 🧸

Vanderwood would probably be a villain, cold and distant, that being the only thing he had grown up to.

He sees no more good in the world. People never learn with kind words, which is why he believes the only way is to fight fire with fire.

Until maybe... *poke poke* you show him there's still some love and positivity left in the world?

And it may not be told at first but, secretly, he's a "violent hero" in his own way, because he only punishes people with guilt.

Bonus: Mc and Rika

🔅 Rika 🔅

She would be a villain, no questions, no question marks, she's a villain.

People would have split opinions on her character, some may call her a snake, while some may say she needs a chance of redemption. (Hehe basically Rika's situation)

But like most well written villains, she has a reason and though her actions may never and can never be justified...

With some real love and help, her evil deeds may one day come to a red light.

💖 Mc (You guys) 💖

A saint, an angel, a hero.

I swear Mc's heart is made out of gold, and they're so patient.

And though Mc's heroic story, isn't one of the typical, not all hero's wear a cape.

Mc would help a group of heartbroken fellows, either helping them through a painful past or helping them become a better person.

It might've been stressful and hard at times, but Mc made it through, they played through it, to see the Mysme crew that Mc loves and adore, obtain the happy ending they deserve.

#mysme headcanons #mysme #mystic messenger #mystic messenger headcanons #mysme v #mysme zen #mysme jaehee #mysme jumin #mysme yoosung #mystic messenger v #mystic messenger headcanon #mystic messenger hyun

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supernaturalmarauders · 4 years ago

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A real family (Pt 1)

Summary: Robert Downey juniors teenage daughter lives with her mum, after her parents divorce. Robert doesn’t get any access to see her, and knows nothing about her life. After her abusive step dad goes to far and puts him in hospital, can Robert save her before

Basically I’m going to take on the evil step sister approach but make it male version. But whilst adding in physical abuse

Warnings: abuse, depression, hospitals.

“Y/N” your dad screamed from the kitchen. You couldn’t remember a time your dad hadn’t been screaming. Your house echoed so much you could have sworn that half of the bloody town could hear your mums shreak.

“I’m comming” you yell from your room. Big mistake. But it was to late now. You should have just kept your mouth shut, but then again, that outcome wouldn’t have been any better of an outcome.

You slowly make your way down the stairs into the kitchen where you see your two step brothers, and step father sitting around the kitchen table. You know sneaking in unnoticed isn’t an option so you except your defeat.

“What have I told you about yelling” says your stepfather in a sturn voice. You don’t reply, instead you keep your head down and look into your lap

“WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU” he screeches at you throwing his plate at your shoulder causing it to shatter and cut into your shoulder blade, making you wince

“Answer me you worthless piece of shit ” he screames at you and you can see your step brother preparing to throw their plates

“Not to do it” you mumble.

“ WHAT WAS THAT” he roared at you, slowly raising from the table, causing you to fall back off your stool and against a wall.

“Nothing sir, you told me not to do it” you say clearly with the small bit of confidence you have left. Suddenly a sharp object collides with your eye and you feel a stinging, painfully burning sensation. Your chew down in your lip to not make a scene.

“Was that talking back” you hear your oldest step brother say, whilst slowly decreasing to ground between you.

“ANSWER US” you hear your brother screech throughout the ringing in your ear.

“I’m sorry sirs, it won’t happen again” you say hiding your face in your hands.

Suddenly a foot collides with your tiny figure and you feel a snap, you know you’ve broken your second rib in a week, but there’s nothing you can do.

“I have heard that excuse far to much Y/N, I think you deserve a punishment” said your father breaking the ground between you and the group of towering men.

You wished that your mum was still alive. Maybe everything would be peaceful if your mum was still alive. If you hadn’t caused her death, as your father said.

“Please no” You beg, before you were sudenly shoved against a wall hearing even more bones crack.

“No more talking back” said your step dad dragging you by the hair up to stairs and into his bedroom door, locking it after being followed by your “brothers”. You closed your eyes as tight as you could, trying to ignore the horrendous pain that littered your body, and distract yourself from what you prayed would never come.

The screames of protest and pain that came next could have woken up the whole country if anyone listened hard enough, however living in a very remote part of the town meant no one could hear the cruel ness that your “family” was subjecting you to.

Xxxx

Robert was trying to sleep, he had to be up early for filming tomorrow, however there was something else on his mind. You. You were officially turning 16 tomorrow, and for a parent that is a very scary time, however this birthday was fillled with sadness and regret.

He had fought long and hard for custody over you for two years untill the court concluded that your mum could take better care of you. The last he ever saw of you was a seven year old little girl crying because she would never see her father again. Your mother would not let him ever speak to you, no matter how hard he tried, and he could not find you on any social media. He wished you were safe but something in his gut was telling him that something was wrong.

He couldn’t act on his feeling however as he was not granted any access to see you, therefor he would be breaking the law.

The last he remembered of you was your long ( hair colour) hair, and smiling face ripped away from him. He was sure you’d grown up by now and had changed physically greatly. However he wished you remembered him. He wished you and his current family could live together happily celebrating big milestones together.

“Can’t sleep” said a voice from behind him. Robert hadn’t noticed he’d moved from the inside of his trailer to the outside seating area.

“Umm, I’m just thinking” he said

“I’s this about Y/N ?” Said Chris Hemsworth taking a seat next to him.

“Yeah” said Robert sadly.

The entire avengers cast new about You. It had come out on a drunk night on the town, however no one had seen it effect him this much... ever.

“It’s her birthday tomorrow, her 16th” he said sadly.

“I’m sorry mate, I could never imagine not seeing one of my children, even living without them for that fact” said Chris trying to console your father to the best of his abilities.

“Something just isn’t sitting right with me, i know somethings wrong with her” said Robert.

“Have you tried getting custody again, even just visiting rights” asked Chris

“The case is to small, It’ll just be dismissed” said Robert sadly

“Keep your head up mate. Not long untill she leaves home , and then I’m sure she’ll want to meet her father” said Chris

“I guess your right” said your dad sighing in defeat”. However he still couldn’t shake the feeing something was wrong. He’d been feeling it a lot lately, and a fathers gut is never wrong

Xxxxx

“Y/N, pick up the pace” said your gym instructor. Of course today was the day you ran the mile. Every bone in your body was aching, and you were sure your body was running on adrenaline. You couldn’t get the disgusting feeling of betrail, and violation off you. You remembered every moment from the previous night, from the almost shattered shoulder bone, to the moment you were violated and entered. It made you want to cry however crying was a weakness. Crying was more reason for them to beat the emotion out of You.

You weren’t the slowest runner, actually you were quiet good, that’s why your gym teacher was so tough on you, she knew you had potential, if only she knew what was going on at home.

You finish the Lap slower than your usual time, however you could feel your body start to shut down.

“Everyone go get a drink.... Y/N not you, I wanna talk” said your coach watching everyone leave. You could see your vision start to loose focus, causing you to reach for your bottle, and chug half of it down.

“Honey, what’s going on. Your average is dropping, I’m getting worried”

You couldn’t reply, your ears started to ring, and your long sport top was causing you to sweat and fall of the seat, onto the floor, hitting your head. You could hear the distant ringing of your name however your to far gone. You feel your body start to go limp, and everything to go dark, you start to fade out of consciousness and the last thing you heard was screaming to call 911.

Xxxxxxxx

Robert had just finished filming and it was lunch time for the avengers crew. Almost all the crew members were there today, it was a big day for shooting and very busy, so getting to finally eat lunch was a blessing.

He took a seat around a table seating, Scarlett, Mark, Jeremy, Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth, and Tom hidleston. They were all in the middle of a conversation when they saw Him sit down.

“Hey, you doing alright” said scarlet dropping the previous discussion.

“Peachy” he replied taking a bite of a sandwich. He suddenly saw one of the producers running up to the table with a frantic look on him face holding the main phone.

“You need to answer this. It’s important”the feeling of dread once again sat in the bottom of his stomach. he instantly answered the phone, his face Pailing almost imidiately, causing the other members of the cast to drop their food and commence worry.

“ I’ll be there as soon as I can” said your dad hanging up the phone.

He looked towards the manager receiving a nod.

“Take all the time you need, we’ll rearrange the schedule, let us know how it goes” said the director taking back the phone.

Robert quickly took of from the set, already on the phone to his wife.

“Honey I’ve got to go to Arizona, Y/N’s in the hospital

Xxxxxxx

You could feel your head pounding. The beeping around you didn’t stop. The fact that you couldn’t move your body didn’t help much either. The black vision slowly started to become brighter causing you to squint your eyes in pain. A forced wince came out of your mouth. Slowly you opened your eyes and started to see the white hospital room around you.

You could see the countless wires connected to you and the beeping of the heart monitor, was ringing in your ears. You tried to sit yourself up but you found that your body was restricted, and you were struggling to sit up.

“That’s not going to work honey, you’ve cracked your ribs, and we can’t risk them breaking again” said the nurse walking in.

“Oh” you say in a quiet voice resting your head back on the pillow.

“How are you feeling honey” said the nurse bustling around the room.

“I’m fine”

“Sweetheart, I’ve had my fair share patients. And the lies I’ve heard... I can’t help you unless you tell me the truth” she said

You sigh and look down to your lap.

“Everything hurts” you say in a quiet voice, trying not to gain any attention

“I suspected, your not afraid of needles are you” asked the nurse kindly.

“Not really no” you say.

“Y/N, You have to be honest with me. I’m only trying to help you” said the nurse politely.

“Umm.. I haven’t had a needle since I was 7. I’d have no way of knowing” you say as honest as you could.

“It’ll just be a pinch, you’ll be fine”. Said the nurse.

Suddenly you feel a pinch in your arm. You’d been through much worse, this felt like nothing.

“All done” said the nurse putting a plaster on your arm.

“Can I ask you a question”

“Go ahead”

“What’s going to happen the them” you ask.

A small sigh left her lips. not knowing if you were ready for the news she hesitated...

“All three of them are missing. Found out you were in the hospital and did a runner. The police have locked down the surrounding boarders to try and find them” said the nurse.

You sighed and nodded your head.

“Why are they taking such large measures” you said.

“Y/N there’s some things you haven’t been told... how much to do you know about your father. Asked the nurse with a smile on her face.

“Mum never talked about him. I haven’t even heard him mentioned since I was seven. I didn’t think he’d want anything to do with me” you say slowly lowering your head towards your lap.

“I can assure you hon he wanted so much to have you in his life. He’s right outside that door and he wants to see his little girl”

“What do you mean” you asked.

Suddenly there was a nock on the door, and In walked another woman, in a very fancy dress suit

“Hello Y/N” said the lady taking a seat beside the white framed bed.

“What’s going on” you asked sinking deeper into the sheets of the knitted white sheets.

“ I have your father outside this door as I’m sure you’ve been told... and he’s very keen to meet you... how would you feel about meeting him”

You didn’t get to sat another word before a medium sized man walked into the room. You couldn’t believe your eyes... the world had to be playing tricks on you... there was no way.. no way at all.

“You have to be kidding me”

To be continued

#the avengers #marvel #mcu au #robert downey junior #daughter #father #children #family #hospital #team downey #iron man #safe root #teenager #infinity war #fanfic

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ericsonclan · 5 years ago

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Trust No(One)

Summary: Louis and Clementine get into a fight regarding Louis' injury and his inherent willingness to trust the newcomer Sophie.

Clementine paced outside the door as Ruby patched Louis up inside. She’d wanted to be in there with him, but Ruby had shooed her outside, saying she didn’t need her help on this one and certainly didn’t want the pressure of her watching. Now Clementine was left alone to reprimand herself for how things had gone down. How could she have let Louis leave the boat with a complete stranger? She knew he trusted them thanks to her history with the street rats, but Minnie had that exact same history and the last time they’d seen her she had maimed two of the members on this ship. Her peg leg tapped against the wood floor as she paced, a constant reminder of the dangers this new member brought their way. Ruby exited the room quietly, meeting Clem’s gaze as she ran over to her. In her hands lay Louis’ bloody shirt, in need of a wash and repair. “He’s stable now. Should be waking up soon. You can go in if you like,”

Clementine clasped Ruby’s hands in her own as a silent gesture of thanks before hurrying into the room. Louis lay still on top of the bed, a new shirt over the bandages that covered his injury. Sunset was approaching and the light from the porthole cast a warm glow on his somewhat pale face. How much blood had he lost before being brought back to the ship? A pint? Two? There had been a puddle of blood in the bottom of the rowboat when Sophie got back. Clementine circled the bed, crawling up to lay beside him, absent-mindedly brushing a dreadlock back from his forehead. It had been over two years since she woke up from certain death to find this boy smiling as he crouched over her and A.J., his crew huddled around him with wide eyes. Now she was waiting for him to open his eyes, praying that he wouldn’t make her wait a moment longer. Her fingers brushed against his brow: warm, but not sweaty. Her mind told her he was safe, but she wouldn’t be able to believe that until he opened his eyes. The minutes dragged by as she watched him, trying to read meaning into every tick and twitch of his face. She took his hand in her own, their promise bands reflecting the waning light as they nestled together. She needed him to be OK. She had anchored her heart to him irrevocably. She couldn’t lose him.

Louis’ face twisted in a grimace as he woke with a groan. “I’m home? Sophie… is she OK? She must have dragged me back,”

“She’s on deck. Ruby went to look at her wound after she finished with yours,” Louis’ face fell. “She got hurt? I must not have blocked the attack fast enough. Damn it,” He tried to sit up, but quickly collapsed back on his bed, letting out a sharp hiss of pain. “Another shot to the ribs, huh?” “You were bleeding heavily,” Louis lifted up the corner of his shirt, examining the bandages. “Should make a pretty sick scar,” “Don’t joke about that,” His eyes went up to hers. Tears were forming in her eyes. “Clem,” he whispered, extending an arm. She pulled back. “No, don’t try to brush this off. What were you thinking, jumping in front of a blade like that?” Louis shrugged. “I was aiming to block the attack, but couldn’t get my weapon up in time. It happens,” “You could have been killed! And for what?” “For a friend,” “For a stranger you only just met! Louis…” Clementine rose from the bed, pacing the floor in anger. “You can’t keep doing this! You can’t adopt every stranger we come across with open arms!” “Well, that doesn’t seem fair coming from you, now does it? That’s how we got you and A.J. Prisha too. Besides, Sophie isn’t just anybody. She’s Tenn’s sister,” “Minerva was Tenn’s sister too,” Clementine’s voice was grim. “She isn’t anymore,” “Sophie isn’t Minnie,” Louis shook his head. “She’s different. You can see it in her eyes,” Clementine scoffed. “Is that so? Tell me, Louis, how close were you when you saw Minerva’s eyes? Because I sure got a close look at them when she cut through my leg,” They were both silent.

Louis sighed. “What do you want me to say, Clem? That I’m sorry I defended her? ‘Cause I’m not. I would do it again,” “I want you to think about yourself for once instead of jumping into danger at every turn! I want to know that when I take my eyes off of you, I can trust you to have the sense to stay safe, not get yourself dragged back bleeding and unconscious!” Clementine’s chest was heaving with emotion now, her heart racing as her anger swelled. “You shouldn’t have gone on that mission alone with Sophie! What if what you ‘saw in her eyes’ was wrong? What if she turned on you? What then? You would be dead!” “That’s not what happened!” “You can’t go putting your life in the hands of strangers you’ve just met!” “Strangers? Clem, she’s family!” “Not your family!” Clementine’s voice cracked with emotion. “Not everybody can be your family. A.J. and I, we’re your family, Louis. You made a promise to me that you’d stay by my side, forever. So don’t hold your own life so lightly,” “Clem…” “I-I need space, Louis,” She quickly exited the room. “Clem, please!” She ran up the stairs blindly. She had to be alone right now. She couldn’t contain all that she was feeling.

It had been a few hours now. Clementine stood in the crow’s nest, the wind blowing through her hair as she watched the empty sea. She shouldn’t be up here. She should be with Louis. But she couldn’t get herself to go back down. Part of her wanted to punish him, but for what? Being a good person? Having a sacrificial heart? Those were the same qualities that had endeared him to her so quickly. Yet they were the same traits that were driving her mad. Louis wasn’t built to be a pirate. He had slipped into the role accidentally, and he’d never truly fit the mold. The Ericson Pirates code, their constant willingness to take in whatever lost waif their boat came across, these weren’t the traits of a true pirate. Clementine was sure the moment she met Louis that if he were met with the murderous faces of those she’d been forced to walk amongst, he wouldn’t stand a chance. Yet instead of being disgusted by his apparent weakness, she’d sworn to protect him. Not just as her captain, nor simply as her friend. After she had sworn to herself that she had closed her life off from all purposes other than keeping A.J. safe, Louis broke through her walls with a warmly extended hand. He’d proven himself far stronger than she’d given him credit for. His body was littered with countless wounds, the worst of them received in the defense of others, just like this latest one. He seemed to shake them off, not holding any sort of malice toward those in whose stead he had been injured. Unlike most captains, he didn’t gain his crew’s obedience through a firm hand or a merciless demeanor. He held their respect because they knew how deeply he valued each and every one of their lives. He would die before he let any of them fall. She would kill before she lost him. Their code allowed for life to be taken if absolutely necessary. Louis hadn’t found that line yet. Clementine had crossed it several times before meeting him. She knew where the line of taking a life lay for her and that it was far closer than Louis’s would ever be. He must know this to be true. They had never spoken of it though. Were they simply tricking themselves by letting that conversation go unspoken, pretending that this difference would not test them to the point that it may someday tear them apart? Was she willing in loving Louis to take the risk each time he jumped into battle that she may lose a part of herself she could never fully regain?

Clementine looked down to the deck below. Sophie was sitting beside Tenn, drawing again. She knew this went far beyond Sophie. Yet Sophie was exactly the sort of enigma that proved how different she and Louis truly were. Louis couldn’t help but trust her. Clementine could never lower her guard. Time would tell which one of them was right. She hoped it would be Louis. She prayed it wasn’t her, that is, the part of her that looked in Sophie’s eyes and saw the murderous rage in Minerva’s eyes as she landed that blow, the one that took her leg. They had tried to reason with Minerva, to trust that she could change. Now Violet would never fully see again. Louis’ way didn’t always work, no matter how much they wanted it to. Eventually, she couldn’t stand it anymore. The pain of being away from Louis - of leaving things like that – was worse than whatever gain could be made in trying to prove her point. Perhaps believing that abandoning him proved any sort of point was a mistake in itself. Clementine descended from the crow’s nest, avoiding the eyes of her crew members. She wasn’t sure what she would see within them. Her mind was muddled enough as it was. When she opened the door to the captain’s quarters, she was surprised to find that Louis wasn’t alone. A.J. lay curled up beside him, his head resting on Louis’ shoulder as he softly snored. Louis raised a finger to his lips as she closed the door behind her. Clementine took a seat on the edge of the bed, careful not to shift her weight in a way that might cause the mattress to pull against his wound. They were silent as they looked at each other, trying to read each other’s hearts from what laid upon their faces.

Clementine spoke first. “I’m sorry I left like that,” “I’m glad you came back,” “Has A.J. been here long?” “A few hours. He fell asleep in the middle of my story about the Dread Pirate Ericson. I was very insulted,” Clementine chuckled. “You do realize the point of a bedtime story is to put a child to sleep?” “I wasn’t aware it was a bedtime story till it did just that!” A.J. shifted against Louis, mumbling something incoherent. The two of them stilled, waiting for him to settle down. After a minute, Louis continued. “Violet came by too. She mentioned that from the sounds of things Sophie would have just gotten nicked by that bandit’s blade if I hadn’t jumped in front. Guess I fucked things up,” “I’m sure she’s grateful for what you did,” “Still, you were right. I should be more careful before jumping into things,” “Louis,” Clementine took his hand in her own. “What I said back there, I was scared. I wasn’t choosing my words wisely,” “I’m the reason you were scared. Anything that was said, I deserved,” “No, Louis, no,” Clementine raised his hand to her face, cupping it against her cheek. “I’m sorry I ran off. That only made things worse. I should have been brave enough to face what I was feeling and to acknowledge that the reason I was so angry is because I was so afraid of losing you. I love you, Louis,” “I love you too,” Louis murmured, running his thumb along her jaw. “The truth is we won’t know what sort of person Sophie is until some time has passed and we’ve fought beside her. I want your trust to be the right call. I want her to be good,” “But until she’d proved that to us, I should probably take some others along with us on any adventures,” “Please. That would help,” Clementine looked over at A.J. “For the longest time, I had just one thing driving me, just one person who owned my heart. Now that number has grown, and I still don’t know how to handle that at times, how to live with the fear of losing all that I’ve gained,” She looked back at Louis. “But the answer isn’t to shut everyone else out. I know that much,” Louis smiled at her weakly. “It’s getting late. There should be room beside A.J. if you want to squeeze in,” Clementine nodded, coming around to the other side and taking a spot beside A.J. She heard Louis stifle a groan as he turned to wrap an arm across her and A.J. He smiled at her concerned expression. “Don’t worry. Ruby’d give me hell if I pulled out my stitches. I’m being careful,” The moon cast a faint light across his face, illuminating his eyes. “I promise you this Clem: from now on I’ll be more careful, for you and A.J.,” “For yourself too,” “Alright, for me too,” Clem crossed her arm over A.J., resting it tenderly on Louis’ side. “Thank you, for loving me,” Louis’ nose wrinkled in confusion. “How could I not? I adore you, Clem. Nothing will ever change that,” Clementine raised her hand, letting her ring catch the glow of the moonlight. “Forever,” Louis’ hand joined hers. “Forever,” An eternal promise. An unbreakable bond.

#clouis #louistine #louisentine #ninjafamily #teamfun #twdg #fanfic #twdgs4 #a pirate's life for me au

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atinytokki · 6 years ago

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𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐙𝐞𝐫𝐨

Chapter 8: Extremes

Immediately Hongjoong was handing Wooyoung off to Seonghwa and heading for the gun deck, flanked by Jongho and Yeosang without needing to issue a command.

Wooyoung could feel Seonghwa’s soft hands tugging him in the direction of the galley, but didn’t hear a word the boatswain was murmuring. His stomach was churning and his head spinning. The death of that gunman had triggered something inside him, as the deck spun below him and something snapped. He suddenly registered seawater being splashed onto his face until he spluttered, “Enough!”

He repeated himself for a minute or two after the water had stopped being thrown and he had been guided to a chair. Gasping, Wooyoung tried to collect his thoughts. Registering it was Seonghwa who had splashed him, he had enough of his mind together to shoot him a dirty look that was ignored.

To put it simply, he was overwhelmed. It had been only a month on this ship and already he’d sailed to uncharted islands, battled a sea monster, heard tales of dragons, been promoted to an officer, gotten drunker than he ever had been in his life, witnessed the fever dreams of a prophet, been stranded and starving in the doldrums, and now one of his men had died. Sure, life hadn’t been easy under Captain Si-Hyuk. He’d never eaten well, he’d been caned for as little as carrying out an order a few seconds too slow, and he’d been in battle. Blood spurting, powder flying, grown men screaming kind of battle. He had friends that hadn’t come back to their bunks at night because they’d gone to sleep in the sea, riddled with grapeshot. But somehow this situation made him lose his senses in a sudden attack of panic unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

There was something about this startlingly young and treasure-hungry captain restlessly sailing on into the unknown, winds and rations be damned, with a small band of equally juvenile young men all with stomach-turning backstories that have come through horrors with each other.

Something disturbing was at work here and Wooyoung’s instinct to run away had never been stronger than at that moment. Other children running a ship, a place where violence was almost always present and disease broke out at the drop of a hat, but why? Why? The question Wooyoung had been trying to formulate since day one desperately needed an answer.

But he remembered their situation. Not enough supplies to carry on like this or to make it home, and the men that were under his command, whose lives he was responsible for, had broken out in a fight below.

What’s Captain going to do?

“The only thing he can for the present.” Wooyoung startled at Seonghwa’s answer, not realising he had spoken his question aloud. “Remind the men of the chain of command and wait for things to die down. Hopefully they’ll remember soon that rioting won’t change their circumstances at all,” He continued, closing the door and leaning against it, clearly exhausted.

Wooyoung could see hunger in his eyes, and knew without asking that Seonghwa hadn’t been eating either. He took a moment to consider the boatswain. He always had a quiet manner and a statuesque appearance, but the emotion swimming in his eyes loosened Wooyoung’s tongue and he found himself asking the question he really wanted the answer to, “Why are we here?”

Seongwha didn’t answer, and for a moment Wooyoung thought he hadn’t heard the question but before he could repeat it Seonghwa moved from the door and pulled up a chair across from him.

“It’s complicated,” he sighed. “I can assume you’re asking because you want to decide whether to stay or take your chances.” Wooyoung knew he couldn’t lie about this, and simply nodded. “Well, rest assured, you’re not alone. Most of the officers don’t have the full story, but I can promise there’s good reason for that.”

Wooyoung had to clear his throat before asking, “Do you have the full story?”

Seongwha’s eyes smiled at him, though his face remained cold. “I believe so. And you’re correct, it does have to do with Captain’s own story.”

“I didn’t say—”

“You didn’t have to. Everyone gives up and asks eventually. If you think this will help you decide, I’ll tell you what it is we’re going for.” Wooyoung’s hands had stopped shaking and he leaned forward as Seongwha began.

“This is not just a treasure hunt. You may have deduced it to be the case from the maps and the uncharted territory, but Captain wants more than that. The treasure is the location of someone very dear to him, though you may recognise the name; Eden.”

Eden was a name even the youngest, most inexperienced deckhand would know. The dread pirate Eden, youngest pirate captain ever to sail the seas, a notoriously clever thief and a formidable enemy to all he overtook. Eden had once commanded an entire fleet of ships until they were finally sunk by the Royal Navy several years ago and the pirate presumed dead.

Wooyoung shivered, and not from the water still dripping down his back. “Eden is alive?”

“Hongjoong believes he is. Every land we’ve found has had some clue, some trace that Eden and his crew have been there. This is why we keep sailing east, the direction we believe he’s gone. We’re retracing his footsteps and following the path he’s set for us.”

A question had been answered and a few more had been raised, but Wooyoung didn’t get the chance to ask them before Yeosang burst into the galley with orders. “The riot’s over. Wooyoung, it’s time to commit your gunman to the sea.”

It was rare that Wooyoung ever witnessed such a ceremony as this on board Si-Hyuk’s ship. Most loss of life occurred in battle, and there was rarely time to say a few words over a dead body, so casualties were tossed overboard without ceremony. It was the combination of this and the fact that Wooyoung didn’t personally get to know this dead man that resulted in a very short and awkward little ceremony.

The riot had been calmed (from what he had heard all it took was Captain’s announcement that they’d be able to choose whether to stay or go) and the atmosphere was again a suffocating stillness.

Everyone repositioned the hats on their heads and resumed their posts after Wooyoung dismissed them. Another day dragged on, and Wooyoung was hesitant to return to his own station for all the eyes he could feel on his back but kept his head high and his eyes on the horizon. Another sleepless night arrived, but this time the creaking of pulleys echoed through the cabins and eventually Wooyoung gave up and went on deck to see what it was.

He almost tripped over a sleeping Yunho and whispered, “You know the penalty for falling asleep on watch is holding up cannon chambers until you’re allowed to lower your arms.”

“So?” Yunho mumbled. “Captain never punishes me.” Still, the Master rigger looked lively at the reminder.

Wooyoung looked over the side of the ship and discovered where the noise was coming from. A small group of men was lowering a longboat into the sea. He was about to yell desertion when he remembered they were allowed to go.

He was allowed to go.

He stared at the lantern light reflecting off the cannons before rushing back to his cabin and shoving the few belongings he had obtained in the past month into a small bag. In his hurry to escape, he didn’t hear Yeosang sitting up in his hammock.

“Leaving?”

Wooyoung dropped his bag in surprise. What ensued was a silent stare-off with Yeosang.

Finally, Wooyoung nodded, and then hung his head. Yeosang kept staring at him but didn’t say anything, only leaning back in his hammock.

Wooyoung shouldered his bag and moved toward the door but with each step the weight of Yeosang’s silent eyes burdened him. He made the mistake of looking back, hand on the door. Yeosang was still staring.

I can’t leave him alone.

Wooyoung closed the door, dropped his bag and got back in his hammock. Yeosang said nothing but stared until both boys fell asleep.

The next morning, the master gunner blocked his ears to the reports of men leaving in the night and avoided Yeosang, finding himself once again with Seonghwa in the galley, hungry and knowing there was no food.

“Are you going to stay?” He finally asked the cook, who sat building barrels.

Seonghwa didn’t look up from his cooper business and instead replied, “Yes. Captain and the ATEEZ are my home. No one back on land wants me.”

Wooyoung’s eyes filled with concern at such a casual remark. “Were you abandoned as a child?”

“No...” Seonghwa closed his eyes as distant memories drifted back. “I was stolen.” Wooyoung remained silent and let Seonghwa speak when he was ready.

“You probably won’t believe me but you know how the royal family have two sons? Well, their second son is me. The child everyone thinks is me was actually switched with me.”

Wooyoung hesitated to question such a ridiculous story because of how seriously Seonghwa was telling it, but asked, “How do you know?”

“The woman who calls herself my mother was actually my nurse. She and my father messed around and she gave birth to a son around the same time as my real mother, the Queen did, but her child was deformed and so when I was about five years old, her jealousy became too strong and she switched us and ran away with me. I hardly remember anything before living with her, but my parents rarely spent time with me anyway so I didn’t realise anything was wrong. They never came and looked for me, thinking the replacement son was really me. Now I’ll reckon he’s almost grown and they still haven’t figured it out.”

Wooyoung swallowed roughly. “I’m sorry. But what about your brother? Did he realise you were switched?”

Seonghwa sat back and shrugged. “I haven’t seen him or anyone from the palace since. Mother—the nurse— told me I didn’t know how to do anything, having had everything done for me before, always saying I was weak and incapable. She taught me how to cook and then sent me to be the cooper’s apprentice on a merchant ship. A ship that, of course, was overtaken by Hongjoong on a then much smaller ATEEZ a few years ago. He told me if I cooked for them he wouldn’t hang me from the yardarm and so here we are, friends now.”

“If you ever did go back—”

“I’m never going back,” Seonghwa cut Wooyoung off. “My parents didn’t love me enough to recognise me, and the nurse only loved me because of my looks. She sent me away, too. This is the only place I can stay, do you understand?”

Wooyoung sighed and nodded, unsure of what to say next. Seonghwa went back to work on the barrel, and Wooyoung considered how even though San was the doctor, it seemed that Seonghwa had such a naturally compassionate personality that he was the best person to come to for healing. But where did Seonghwa go for healing?

Wooyoung thought about the distress he had seen on his face as he told his story. His thoughts were interrupted by a rap on the door and a gunman telling him, “You’re needed on deck, sir.”

Wooyoung sensed immediately the change in the weather as he and Seonghwa joined Captain, Mingi, and Yeosang on the quarterdeck. “What’s going on?” Jongho asked, making his way over.

“It’s the wind,” Yeosang was beaming.

“Wind?!” San ran up the stairs from where he was sawing some boards on the main deck. Yeosang simply nodded as they all closed their eyes and felt their hair rustling and the gentle touch of breeze on their backs.

Seonghwa took to the main deck in three strides and pulled out his whistle. “Hoist the mainsail!” He ordered and then gave his all hands on deck call with the boatswain’s whistle. Yunho and his riggers sprung into action to take advantage of the wind, and cheers broke out on board.

“Work makes a happy crew!” Mingi’s laughed was carried by the wind, the first wind in what felt like an eternity. Rowing no longer needed, Wooyoung sat on the main deck with San, helping him with his little carpentry project and zoning off while he tried to explain it to him.

“And then if I attach a rope here and another one to the ceiling, you can hang the box and sleep in it instead of a hammock!”

“How is sleeping in a box any better than sleeping in a hammock?”

“Well more room for pillows of course...”

Wooyoung let him chatter on until he spotted something, “Do you see those clouds over there?”

San gave a quick glance and went back to his work. “Nothing to be worried about, I’m sure. Just be happy there’s wind now! I’m sure we’ll make landfall soon.” San’s confident smile was convincing and Wooyoung dropped the subject, smiling back.

But of course mid-afternoon the clouds stretched out and became a full-on thunderstorm. At the first bolt of lightning spotted Mingi was at Hongjoong’s side asking about the best course of action.

“We can’t run it.”

Mingi was speechless, “But we always run it, you can’t possibly want us to heave to?”

Captain sighed, “Look at it Mingi, the clouds stretch literally across the horizon, if we bear to port like usual, we’ll still get caught in it and demasted.”

So orders began with Hongjoong listing off things to counteract the pressure of the wind on the sails, their first problem that could send all hands to the bottom of the sea. “Reef the sails! Yunho, you’re trimming the mainsail. I want the jib and headsail left alone for momentum. Jongho’s crew, ballast the lower decks and stay there, unless any man is half decent at rigging in which case stay and take your orders from Yunho. Same to the gun crews, secure the cannons, batten all hatches and stow flames. We have very little time on our side, let’s be prepared.”

Wooyoung realised the ATEEZ didn’t carry any storm sails, and if this was more than a squall, it would be a test of her endurance to stay in one piece until it was over.

After securing everything and seeing his men to the ballast, where Seongwha guided them to concentrate as many weights and heavy things as they could, Wooyoung presented to Yunho. “I’m light and decent at ropes, what needs to be done?”

Yunho had to yell to be heard over the thunder that was getting closer as he followed his men up the mainmast. “Furl the lower courses so she doesn’t list. We’ll all be lost if she does.”

To address the second problem, waves breaking over the main deck, Captain had everyone else ready to bail water as fast as possible, with Yeosang leading the efforts. San had to stow his bed box project below and join them. The wind made it nearly impossible to walk on deck, but he hung on as it began to pick up.

To address the third problem, navigating through this surprise typhoon, Captain had the prow pointed at an angle to the wind just shy of the massive waves rolling towards them. “The sea herself is always our most present danger,” he sighed.

What followed were hours of work, slippery decks and rigging, and the constant tossing of the sea. Yeosang was suddenly hit with an idea as he fought to keep up with the water washing onto the ship. He disappeared and returned with bags of oil. San gave him a look as he tossed them overboard before explaining, “Oiling the water increases surface tension and decreases spray onto the ship— we won’t have as much water to bail if the oil works.”

Wooyoung observed from above, hands shaking as they grasped the slippery mast on his way back down to deck. The sails were all trimmed to perfection and now fighting the storm was in the Captain’s hands.

Wooyoung reached the deck and ducked instinctively hearing Jongho’s yell, “Boom about!” The boom swung sharply over him before he caught and secured it.

“Anything else you’ve missed?” Jongho came over to him, trying and failing to wipe his wet face with his wet sleeve. Wooyoung shook his head sheepishly and jumped in to help bail.

The work seemed endless, and the waves grew so large by late evening that Hongjoong ordered everyone to lash themselves to the ship and hang on. His own hands were tied to the wheel, and his feet remained fixed though wave after wave broke on him.

No one caught a wink of sleep, but when the dawn came and Mingi looked out the spyglass from the forecastle he yelled, “Land ho! Hurry to sails now or we’ll be grounded!”

Wooyoung was back in the rigging with Yunho, astonishingly stable on his peg leg as always, and realising the wind had died significantly and the rain had ceased. “How long has it been?” He choked out.

“About 12 hours. Well done, everyone,” Yunho responded. Wooyoung’s breath had yet to catch up with him, but the sight of an island on the horizon took it away. Yeosang, San, Yunho and Jongho joined him at the rail and watched it grow closer.

Finally turning around, the navigator asked the strangely quiet Captain, “What are our orders?”

Seonghwa was carefully untying him from the helm and shot the other officers a warning look. Hongjoong looked up, answered “Ready the longboats,” and collapsed into Seongwha’s arms.

“Captain, you’re exhausted,” Mingi argued. “Let’s sleep a few hours and then explore.”

“Alright, belay that order,” Hongjoong mumbled as he was being carried off. “Drop the anchor for a few hours.”

He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

...

Taglist: @nightynightnyx

A/N: There was a thunderstorm today so I banged out the end of this as well as I could. If the sailing terminology gets too difficult, it’s alright to ask and I’ll do my best to explain. This chapter’s already posted on Ao3 and if you read it there you’ll see it’s one of 12 chapters, meaning we’re near the end of our first instalment! Thinking about making a moodboard/profile thingy for the members before embarking on Ep. 2 in case there are new readers and also because I like that kind of thing. Sorry about the formatting, tumblr sucks and I can’t figure it out so just read it on ao3 if you can’t stand it. Much love <3 pls comment

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ailelie · 5 years ago

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Like a Bad Penny (not!fic, crack treated seriously; Damian is Stephanie’s Dad)

This is over 2.5k of not!fic going more or less scene-by-scene of how I’d write the Stephanie-is-Damian’s-Daughter fic I first mentioned here. This is crack treated seriously. This is not written as fic. This is written as an in-depth, first draft description of a fic, scene-by-scene, with a few rare moments of dialogue. It involve an OC who is the daughter of an old and off retconned out rogue, the Penny Plunderer or Joe Coyne. Of course Coyne named his daughter Penny.

This is Steph/Tim. And would inevitably be followed by a half-dozen ficlets focusing on the weird father-daughter relationship between Steph and Damian.

---

“I’m just saying—knowing Penelope was Joe Coyne’s daughter would have helped us solve this a lot sooner.”

Tim and Bruce are in the Batcave after a case. The giant penny is prominent in the background. The case involved an Arkham breakout of Joe Coyne and Zachary Gate. Gate is still focused on eliminating the founding families of Gotham. The villains always seem one step ahead until the Bats realize that a new engineer at Wayne Enterprises, Penelope Finger, has been feeding the villains information and providing them with weapons. When caught, Penelope talks about how her father had turned his greatest failure into the cornerstone of his success. He taught her to always learn something from failure. She points out a pair of pennies on the table and chides the heroes that they should pay more attention to the things they think are useless. She moves one of the pennies, completing a circuit embedded in the table, and causing an explosion. She escapes in the confusion.

Penelope’s thing is about how people overlook the terrible potential of the mundane and undervalued. Her inventing prowess focuses on using the seemingly useless and unexpected with great creativity. While Batman and co. focused on Gate, Penelope and her father quietly stole the materials she needed to finish making a time machine.

Gate and the others are recaptured, but Penelope and her father remain at liberty. Penelope finishes her time machine. Joe Coyne, though he helped with the thefts, wants to use the time machine to change the past. His time in Arkham really did rehabilitate him. Penelope, however, for reasons unknown, was aware each time the timeline changed. She remembers the timelines where her father almost ceased to even exist and blames the Justice League, but mostly Batman since he captured her father in the very first place and then had the gall to forget him.

It eventually gets revealed that the Batman Beyond universe exists through her machinations. She either helped the Joker get his three uninterrupted weeks with Tim or provided the microchip, for example.

But all of that is late reveal stuff. At this stage in the game, the Bats think she helped Gate to buy herself time to get her dad somewhere safe and out of the way.

Bruce goes to bed and advises Tim to go rest as well. Tim, instead, sits at the Batcomputer and starts writing a program to identify familial relationships among the DNA samples saved in the computer’s memory, as well as a secondary program to ensure this doesn’t lock the computer up like tea aboard the Heart of Gold in Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

A few days later, Tim is using the Batcomputer for one his cases while Bruce runs tests on a new drug growing in popularity in Gotham. By this point Tim has grown slightly annoyed with his own program as it so far has identified relationships such as Bruce and Damian, Ra’s and Damian, etc. When yet another Damian alert pops up, he almost closes it without read it. Except Bruce tells him to wait.

Then Tim pays attention and realizes what it says: a paternal match between Damian Wayne and Stephanie Brown.

“Run that again,” Bruce orders.

Tim minimizes his case files and pulls up Damian and Stephanie’s DNA profiles. Time drags as they wait, but the answer is unchanged. A paternal match.

“Could the DNA files be corrupted?” Tim asks.

“I’ll call them in.”

This leads to Stephanie and Damian in the Cave. Tim and Bruce each conduct their own paternity tests, just to be absolutely certain. Hours pass. Damian and Stephanie’s patience dwindles.

“Father, I demand you explain what is happening right now.”

“Seriously, you’re both acting super weird.”

“Maybe we should just show them,” Tim says, looking at Bruce.

“Show us what, Tim?”

“Show them. I’ll be right back.”

Tim sighs, glaring at Bruce’s back. “This.”

Stephanie and Damian are still ranting in disbelief when Bruce returns with a strange device that he explains he took from the Flash. He asks Stephanie to step aside and he runs the device around her. The readings are faint, but enough to confirm his suspicions

“Stephanie is from the future.”

No one takes this particularly well. Tim chases after Steph when she bolts.

Tim and Steph have a cute conversation about this changing nothing, which ends with Stephanie starting to find the humor in the situation.

“Damian is my dad. Wait, Tim, you realize what this means? You’re dating Damian’s daughter.” She laughs, then her eyes widen. “Your brother Damian’s daughter. I’m dating my uncle! This horror show’s got levels.”

Tim buries his face in his palm. “Please stop.”

On a lighter note, she also gives him an envelope of purple glitter and tells him “happy 18th.” He tries to toss the glitter out, she refuses to let him and tells him it is punishment. “On my birthday? For what?”

“I’ll think of something.”

Meanwhile, Bruce uses the very faint readings from the device to pinpoint from when in the future Stephanie came. Damian is training and occasionally ranting in the background. He alternates between anger and nascent protectiveness.

“Brown can’t be a Wayne. She’s not worthy of our name. There must have been a mistake. She can barely hold her own. Could you imagine what Mother would think of her?” He stops, in sudden alarm. “The League cannot find out about her. They’d destroy her.”

The readings on Stephanie were too faint to pinpoint an exact year. With help from the Justice League, Bruce gets a device to allow time travel. He decides to travel to the last possible year in the range he determined, deciding that it is far better to return after her disappearance than it is before her existence.

Tim, Stephanie, and Damian join him.

Dick, Jason, Duke, and Cass stay to hold down the fort in Gotham.

Here the narrative splits. One of the four in the present time discovers the case Tim pushed aside when the paternity alert popped up. The case is cold and involves a string of strange thefts that took place while they were trying to re-capture Zachary Gate. Investigating these thefts eventually leads the present-time crew to realize that Penelope has built a time travel device of her own and has been using it.

The future time crew finds out that the Batfamily is no more. Batman was last seen five years ago. Terry McGinnis is, at this point, three years old.

“Is this the darkest timeline?” Steph asks quietly reading Tim’s wiki page over his shoulder. Older Tim is in Communications. Damian, Jason, and Cass are all missing. Dick is in Bludhaven, though Nightwing appearances are increasingly rare. Bruce is alone. Leslie Thompkins is still operating her clinic and they decide to start by talking with her.

Leslie fills them in, not just on Stephanie, but Tim’s time as J.J. (which, they realize with horror, is not too far into their future) and Damian’s recent arguments with Bruce. After Damian’s daughter, Isra Wayne, disappeared from the hospital, Damian’s marriage fell apart and he blamed Bruce for not being able to find Isra. Last Leslie heard, Damian was off looking for someone who could help. She also tells them about Bruce’s heart attack and retirement.

Instead of going to old!Bruce next, they track down Dick. Dick, at least, hasn’t completely given up Nightwing yet and may have more connections that can help them. By this point, Damian has decided to call Stephanie “Isra” and nothing else. This is what gets overheard by older!Damian who is also in Bludhaven to visit with Dick.

Older!Damian is investigating a break in at Cadmus (he’s been promised access to various tools to help him find his daughter if he helps them find the thief; Damian hasn’t completely joined up with his grandfather yet, but he is wavering) and wants to consult with Dick. When he hears younger!Damian use the name “Isra” he shadows the group. He is nearly caught by Bruce, but manages to escape.

Once older!Damian confirms that Stephanie is Isra, he calls in a favor from his mother. Talia arranges a diversion and older!Damian abducts Stephanie.

Dick is furious. He points out the ways better infrastructure could have made the attack impossible or, at least, more difficult. “When do we stop cleaning up messes and start preventing them from happening in the first place?” he demands.

They regroup at Dick’s. Dick, Damian, and Bruce bounce ideas off each other and Dick tries to contact older!Damian to no avail. Tim, needing to stay busy, looks through Dick’s open cases. One of them—a break-in at a Cadmus Lab in Bludhaven—piques his interest because it is very similar a string of thefts he’d been investigating in Gotham. He starts searching for similar cases. Damian is the first to realize the shift in Tim’s energy and calls him out on it.

Tim startles and then explains—he thinks whoever broke into the Cadmus Lab is the same person who kidnapped Stephanie (“Isra,” Dick and Damian correct) as a baby.

They re-break into the lab to do their own investigation. During the investigation Bruce notices a dropped penny. Dick doesn’t understand the significance at all. But Tim does. It was the sort of thing one would overlook. Less a clue than a taunt. They don’t say anything to the others yet.

Scene-jump over older!Damian and Stephanie. Damian is in awe of his daughter. He can’t believe how old she is, nor how much she resembles her mother. He tells her about her mom, how they met, how they played chess together, the wedding, Isra’s birth, and the terror of losing her. They talk and he asks her to remain, but she can’t.

She tells him about her life in his past, about her childhood, career as Spoiler, friendships, and relationship with Tim. She asks him to let her go.

He agrees on one condition—he goes with her.

When the others return to Dick’s from the Lab, older!Damian and Stephanie are waiting for them. Quick reunion. Bruce and younger!Damian are surprised by older!Damian. Tim shares the Lab information with Stephanie and she starts helping him crack through it. She asks about the envelope of glitter. She takes a pinch and throws it on older!Damian as punishment for abducting her.

Ultimately Stephanie is the one who finds Penelope’s true target—a microchip that can overwrite a person, creating a clone. Stephanie wonders if the chip was used for Joker Junior. Tim and older!Dick & Damian dismiss that. That was just brainwashing. Bruce, however, gets it—crimes hidden within crimes. Tim looks sick and the two future people questioning, so Bruce explains about Penelope.

Older!Dick and Damian both blanche. Older!Damian shows a picture of his ex-wife, Penelope. (Stephanie’d never met the woman in the past and so did not recognize her). Tim realizes she must have used her father to abduct Isra (he uses Isra for baby!Steph and Stephanie for his!Steph). Then she blames Damian for the abduction, divorces him, and disappears.

And she may be involved with Tim and the Joker.

“If I hadn’t created that program, if we hadn’t figured out that Damian and Stephanie are related—” Tim trails off and gestures around the room. “This would have been our future.”

“It won’t be,” Bruce promises.

“We have to go back,” Stephanie says. “We have to stop her.”

Bruce agrees and he sets up the device to create their portal home.

Older!Damian quietly squeezes Dick’s shoulder and says “good-bye” before rushing through the portal too quickly to be stopped.

“I lost her once,” he says on the other, “I refuse to lose her again.”

When the others say having two Damians is too confusing, older!Damian offers to go as “Ian Head” instead. He has the fake ID and passport to go with the identity.

(Later Ian will adopt Stephanie. Even though, as she’ll point out, she is turning 18 in a month or two and doesn’t need to be adopted. He uses paternity as proof. And the old, long forgotten news articles about the hospital lying about Crystal Brown’s baby being stillborn resurface. Stephanie keeps her first name, but changes her middle name to “Isra” partially for Ian, partially to explain he and Damian call her that. There are long arguments about whether she’ll keep “Brown” or change to “Head.” Connections are made. Media goes wild.

Talia notices the surname and that Ian’s name is just the last three letters of Damian’s. She will be stopping by for answers. But that’s in the future and not yet).

The present!time crew explains about what they’ve been doing. They tracked the thefts, concluded time travel device, and figured out it was Penelope. They have an idea for where she might be as well.

Before anyone can act on that information, though, alarms ring. The Joker is free.

They have to catch him. Someone needs to stay with Tim at all times, too. Of everything that went wrong in the future, Joker Junior was the start. It ends up being Ian who watches out for Tim. Unbeknownst to the others, however, Ian wants Tim captured. He’s hoping if he follows the Joker, he’ll be able to see Penelope. (Has this Penelope met him yet? Is Isra in her past or future?) He needs to confront her, to get answers.

So Tim is captured and Ian follows. Tim is still in his suit and tied up, rather than strapped down. Penelope arrives and Ian breaks in. His break-in diverts attention from Tim, leaving him tied up insteadof strapped down). Ian confronts Penelope, but is caught by the Joker who scolds him for being in the wrong time. Penelope and the Joker realize that the rest of the Bats might know where they are, so they need to move.

Tim finds the envelope of glitter. He has to hope that Penelope will be too wrapped up in the larger scheme to notice. He doesn’t drop a ton; just enough that he hopes Stephanie will notice.

Stephanie does.

It takes a few days, but they do find Tim and Ian. Penelope is not with them. The Joker is. A big battle ensues. Tim and Ian are rescued. And then Tim is there with a gun in his hand. And some things repeat no matter what. He shoots above the Joker instead, freeing something precariously attached. It falls and knocks the Joker out. Batman ties the Joker up and calls the authorities.

In the distance, watching, Penelope pulls out the microchip she never did give the Joker after Ian’s interruption.

And then it all epilogue. A birthday party for Tim. Ian bonding with Jason of all people. The adoption. And Ian breaking into Arkham and very quietly killing the Joker in his cell. Nothing personal, but his little girl cares about Tim and the Joker had hurt him. And, more importantly, it was time to take one of Penelope’s chess pieces from her.

And then the end.

#batman #not!fic #stephanie brown #damian wayne #tim drake #fic i want to read

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princess-of-the-corner · 6 years ago

Text

As a joke, I spent time categorizing the Akumas from Season 1 of Miraculous Ladybug of how ‘Valid’ the reason for their Akumatization was. Obvs Hawkmoth is the only one to blame but still. I only did Season 1 because I haven’t really watched more than the beginning of Season 2, and I can’t always get context from the episode synopsis.

Simple version:

Very Valid: The Bubbler, The Pharaoh, Chronogirl, Evillustrator, Dark Cupid, Horrificator, The Mime, Kung Food, Vanisher, Antibug, Puppeteer, Reflekta, Guitar Villain, Stoneheart, Bad Santa(I remember him being called ‘Bother Christmas’ but the wiki says ‘Santa Claws’)

Your emotions are valid, but this is a bit much Stormy Weather, Mr. Pigeon, Darkblade, Gamer

Bruh what the fuck: Animan, Simon Says, Copycat

You brought this on your own damn self: Lady Wifi, Rogercop, Pixelator, Princess Fragrance Volpina

Long Version:

Stormy Weather:

Lost a contest to be the weather forecaster. Of course she’s upset, but hey, someone has to lose.

Your emotions are valid, but this is a bit much (this whole category is basically for those upset at losing a contest)

The Bubbler

Nino just wanted to give his friend a birthday party, but Gabriel is a Dick.

Very Valid

The Pharaoh

Jalil was just ‘hey, this ancient artifact might be a magic spell? We live in a world of magic superheroes, so maybe it could work? How about we test it out?’, but his dad’s all ‘That’d be a waste of time and misuse of a valuable artifact’.

How’d you feel if you have an idea that’s not only cool but potentially groundbreaking for your field of work, but your dad says ‘no that’s dumb and you’re dumb for thinking it’?

Very Valid

Lady Wifi

I still have no idea how Alya thought Chloé could be Ladybug as they’ve been seen together a lot(also you have Chloé in class with her while Ladybug is out fighting an Akuma), so that was dumb mistake #1.

But she decided to break into Chloé’s locker and rifle through her stuff and even take pictures for ‘evidence’. Like, people blame Chloé for this, but if I found someone I barely know going through my locker and all up in my personal stuff, I’d probably insist on not only school punishment, but also drag in the cops to investigate if there’s been more stuff stolen from lockers recently, or if this girl is some stalker trying to steal my underwear or something.

You brought this on your own damn self

Chronogirl

an important and honestly really cool family heirloom she’s had for maybe half an hour is destroyed because Alya, Nino, Marinette and Adrien don’t have enough collective brainpower to think ‘a Pocket Watch can be held in a Pocket!!’

Very Valid

Mr. Pigeon

I understand his love for pigeons, but having a large flock on call to the local park is a problem. Dude needs some help.

Your emotions are valid, but this is a bit much

Evillustrator

While he shouldn’t have been drawing in class, his teacher was a bitch. She berates him loudly in front of the class, tells him(and everyone else) that this is why he’s failing science, insults his artwork and overall calls his passion worthless.

He loses some Validity Points for attacking Chloé instead of the teacher. Like, yeah, Chloé teased him about a crush, but she had nothing to do with why/how he got Akumatized, so he really should’ve drawn up something to punch the teacher. However, we’re judging the reason they got Akumatized, not what they did with that power.

Very Valid

Rogercop

Man should’ve just done his damn job. Chloé’s bracelet was missing, possibly stolen. Instead of looking into it he just gets all condescending with ‘are you sure you didn’t just miss it when you looked?’.

Like, okay, when Chloé accuses Marinette of stealing the bracelet he can’t just arrest her without proof. That’s fair. However! An expensive bracelet has gone missing and is possibly stolen, but since no one has left it must still be in the room. He should’ve at least done a basic bag check. (also, while we now she’s innocent, Marinette is a likely suspect as she had both motive and opportunity).

You brought this on your own damn self.

Copycat

This guy has some minor hero-crush on Ladybug. Like, while Chat did play up his relationship with her to scare him off, he doesn’t have the right to be upset about Ladybug being in a relationship with someone else. This is on the level of having a crush on a celebrity and sending hatemail to the celebrity's partner because ‘you don’t deserve them’.

Only things that stop him from being in the ‘you brought this on your own damn self’ category is that 1. Chat did play up the relationship(depending on the translation he either just implied it out outright lied but whatever) and 2. it’s understandable to be kinda sad about it, but not to this level.

Bruh what the fuck

Dark Cupid

Kim got rejected by his crush on Valentine’s Day. Heartbreak isvery understandable.

His reason is 90% valid, but he does lose points since, well, what was Chloé supposed to do? Sure, she could’ve been nicer, but she still doesn’t like him back so he would’ve been heartbroken anyway. Only way to avoid this would be for her to say yes to dating him, but ‘I’m saying yes to your advances because I don’t want you to go evil’ is kinda, uh, fucked up.

Very Valid

Horrificator

She is scared! Leave her alone!

Some Valid Points are lost because I have to ask ‘if you’re so easily frightened why are you playing the lead in a horror movie where you knew going into it that you’d get too scared to actually act?’, but I’m going to assume that she figured her fear wouldn’t be that bad when she knows exactly when the scare is coming and can see the ‘film crew’ in her peripheral vision, but just overestimated herself. So leave her alone!

Very Valid

Darkblade

He lost the Mayoral election and the reporters are bugging him about it. Understandable, but also, like, my dude you’re in politics. You gotta know that this’l happen.

Your emotions are valid, but this is a bit much

The Mime

His coworker sabotaged him to take his place in the show. Hell yeah are you gonna be upset!

Very Valid

Kung Food

While it does fit with other ‘losing the contest’ categories, he lost due to sabotage.

Very Valid

Gamer

Max lost a game tournament. Or, lost the tournament to be in the tournament. While I will call Marinette out on her reason for entering the competition, she didn’t cheat to win or anything. She and Adrien are just better at the game, and Max was upset about that.

Your emotions are valid, but this is a bit much

Animan

Local zookeeper gets upset because... some dumbass teenager is saying ‘if I had to race a panther I totally could!’??? Like, yeah, Kim is wrong about being able to outrun a panther. But why is this something to get upset about? I’d just roll my eyes and ignore it?

Bruh what the fuck

Vanisher

Fighting with close friends, especially fights that break the friendship, suck.

Very Valid

Antibug

She felt betrayed by her Hero. Chloé adores Ladybug, has tried to be helpful to her(even if it doesn’t really work). When she overhears Ladybug tell Chat what she really thinks about Chloé, that she’s just a liar not worth listening to, it crushes her.

Very Valid.

Puppeteer

Her mom’s kind of a bitch. Like, Marinette made a bunch of dolls for Manon to play with, but her mom’s like ‘no you already have too many toys’. Who says that to a kid? Like, if the kid was begging for an expensive new toy then sure, but a free gift that’s already there? Why turn it down???

When Marinette gives Manon one of the dolls anyway, her mom accuses the kid of stealing it, then confiscates the doll and says she’ll be punished for it. As she didn’t steal it, she’s extra upset that she’s being punished for something she didn’t do.

Very Valid

Reflekta

Not only does Juleka have an ongoing issue with being photographed, but Chloé decides to be a bit bitchy about it.

Very Valid.

Guitar Villain

You have Jagged Stone, an awesome rock and roll star, but his manager says ‘hey, if you want to be relevant and keep making money, be more like this teen pop star!’. Said teen pop star then proceeds to insult Jagged’s entire existence and love for music. Boy’s lucky Jagged got Akumatized instead of just marching down to the news station and kicking his ass.

Extra awesome points for not only having a pet crocodile, but having the crocodile become a freaking Dragon!

Very Valid

Pixelatior

Creepy paparazzi stalker dude gets called out and then kicked out, yet instead of doing some self-reflection and realizing how fucked he is, he gets Akumatized instead.

You brought this on your own damn self.

Princess Fragrance

Rose, you’re sweet and I love you but this is not your best moment. Don’t spray strong perfume in the middle of class, especially science class. And this entire plan hinged on asking Chloé to deliver the letter? I know you want to believe the best in everyone, I do too. But even as someone who loves Chloé and would have written her being nicer there, that was a dumb thing to plan on as the only route. Just put the letter in the mail.

I really want to be nice to Rose, but this was a dumb plan, and I might be a bit biased about her spraying a bunch of strong perfume in the middle of science class because if I was there I would’ve been dying.

You brought this on your own damn self.

Simon Says

Honestly this is the Gameshow’s fault. Gabriel wasn’t even really being a dick about it. A bit hypocritical, but not a dick.

Like, you have a gameshow where they get a random Important Person on video camera to challenge a contestant? The hypnotist gets paired with a video call to Gabriel Agreste, and they’re like ‘hey dude, this guy’s gonna try to hypnotize you and you have to resist’. Gabriel’s just like ‘fuck no. I don’t want to do that goodbye.’, which counts as a disqualification? The people running that gameshow should’ve either planned in advance to get someone willing to be hypnotized, or they should’ve gone for calling the next on the list until someone agrees to play.

While the hypnotist is right to be upset, that gameshow is a fucking train wreck and he should be mad at them instead of the dude who didn’t want to be hypnotized.

Bruh what the fuck

Volpina

Girl lies for attention, tries to manipulate a boy into a relationship(which is dubious consent at best), and then gets upset when someone calls her out on it. Bitch.

You brought this on your own damn self

Stoneheart

First time he was being taunted by his crush. Second time is because people are (understandably) worried about if he’s going to turn into a rock monster again.

Very Valid

‘Bother Christmas’/Santa Claws/Pire Noël

Santa kindly gives a kid a ride home, because Adrien decided to hang out in the snow without even a jacket. Next thing he knows, Ladybug’s trying to kick his ass. I’d be upset too.

Very Valid

#miraculous ladybug #rant tag

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mydisenchantedeulogy · 6 years ago

Text

Life is Like a Boat [Portgas D. Ace] Chapter Two [Trust Me]

He'll be crushed … no one could survive that. Elva went pale; her ears jerked down in sadness. She wanted to look away, turn her attention to something other than what she was about to witness, but she couldn't. Her small body was paralyzed – the dirty floor seemed to have glued her in place.

In horror, Elva watched the lieutenant raise a large wooden mallet above his head, cursing the young boy who he towed back from the forest. The minute the pirates returned – utilizing the shoddy den Elva often lodged in – Porchemy ordered the voluble boy to be secured to a rafter in the corner of the room. He'd asked him to give up the location of Ace and their money, but he had refused, barking stubbornly that he would not. Porchemy was not happy; Elva could hear the teeth in his mouth grind together in annoyance. With a grumble, he slammed the head of the mallet down onto the small frame of the boy. The hammer bounced off him – his body sprang back with a sudden boing. Elva herself squeaked in surprise.

"Like I already told you, I ate the gomu-gomu …" The boy's statement was shut out by the delayed screams of the crew; they could not believe it either. He really is made of rubber.

Elva had never heard of a Devil Fruit before; she doubted few had. It sounded made up and she would have went on believing it, had it not been for the boy and display of this special ability. Where did he even get one? She was certain they were rare, because she had never before seen one, especially not in the woods at the base of Mt. Colubo. It did little to slake her interest, seeing it up close. Elva wanted to know more about it; these so called Devil Fruits.

Reality crashed down on her like a wave of ice cold water the minute Porchemy demanded someone to retrieve his gloves. She knew the ones he was referring to; a set of large iron gauntlets with spikes protruding from them. Elva had seen them before, but had luckily never been unfortunate enough be on the receiving end of the lieutenant's right swing. She feared for the young boy now – he was lifted in the air like a hunk of meat.

Porchemy gave the persistent boy a second chance; more than I should have given him. But, he still refused to answer. This made the lieutenant mad. He reared back his gloved fist and punched the boy in the head. The momentum of the swing tossed his slender body to the side, but the rope jerked him back, not allowing him the chance to escape.

A spurt of blood hit the dirt floor, provoking a satisfied smile from Porchemy. The boy started to wail and cry in pain – Elva dropped her eyes to the floor. It's going to be a long day for you, my friend.

The lieutenant punched him for nearly an hour, then decided to take a break. The sniveling boy had yet to spill the truth and honestly Elva wasn't sure why. She waited for Porchemy and his men to leave before standing on her unsteady legs and walking leisurely over to her sling bag against the wall, taking from it a portable first aid kit. It wasn't much – if fact it needed to be refilled – but as a novice doctor, surviving in a lawless community, it was necessary. Elva sighed and brought the kit with her, having to drag a tall wooden stool in front of the boy just to reach him. She pulled on a set of powderless exam gloves and began dabbing away at the dry, flaking blood on his round face. On contact, he flinched and opened his brown eyes; the lid above his right was engorged and discolored.

"It hurts … I'm scared." He's beaten, Elva thought. He'd been murmuring the same words over and over since Porchemy wounded him. Elva wasn't even sure he knew that she was there. It pained her to see this; he seemed like such a spirited person before all this began. Fat, warm tears sank down her red cheeks.

"Stop this … stop being so stubborn." Her voice was husky and so faint she almost thought the boy hadn't heard. "Why are you protecting Ace? It's going to get you killed."

The boy unexpectedly beamed. "He's my friend. Sabo too."

Elva was baffled; she couldn't believe how naïve he was. Her gentle strokes against his skin became rough as irritation took her. Some friends they are. She felt bad for him; his trust failed him. Elva sighed – her fingers eased up. There was no reason for her to cast her anger onto him. It wasn't his fault after all. "I'm real sorry about all this. There's honestly nothing more I can do without Lieutenant Lardass finding out. He'd punish us both." Her ears jerked up – the one tucked below the cloth dressing throbbed in protest.

"You're ears are real weird," the boy mentioned suddenly, lifting his brow. He noticed them drop a bit and laughed. "I've never seen ones like yours before. I like them." They reminded him of knives; pointed at the top.

Elva felt her cheeks go warm. No one had ever spoken about her ears like that; mocked them and yanked on them, but like them, this was new to her. "Thanks … I guess. They are good for hearing noises most people can't."

"Can they really? What am I saying?"

The friendly boy shut his eyes and began to utter something quietly to himself. Elva was confused at first, but she realized he was giving her a name; his name. "Luffy … Monkey D. Luffy." What a strange name. "I'm Sorin Elva."

Luffy let out a peculiar laugh. "Wait until you meet Ace and Sabo. They will like them too." He considered asking Elva more about herself; about her weird pointed ears and if she too ate a Devil Fruit, but her attention was trained on nothing in particular – blue eyes inactive as if she was broken. Luffy saw her ears spring up and jerked in alarm as she came to life.

"He's coming back," she uttered softly, dashing to get back to her spot on the floor. Elva moved the stool – in too much of a panic to care where she placed it – and shuffled over to the bag to deposit her kit. Her bare feet kicked up dirt as she trudged back to the corner, but she managed to lose her footing on the way and fell hard to her knees. The lieutenant soon returned – his crew bringing up the rear.

Porchemy noticed the brat and snorted in amusement. She was a clumsy one; her feet got her seized up when she tried to escape into the woods previously. He thought about asking her why she'd been up and moving around, but honestly he didn't care. There was still a job to be done. Porchemy ignored her for the time being and slid back on his gloves. The stubborn boy was right where he had left him, only he looked washed up; the old blood on his face was gone. He no longer was curious about what the knife eared girl had been doing; he knew. She was still wearing the rubber gloves on her hands. Think you're clever, do you? He'd have to show her the consequences of her decision.

"Oi, brat. Watch this," Porchemy demanded. He reared back his fist and struck the kid hard in the ribs. His little form bobbed like a lure in the water as he sobbed in pain. "Hear that? He's broken and there's nothing you can do about it. Want me stop? Make him spill."

Elva choked back a sob. How? She barely knew him, other than his name. Even if she had been close to him, she doubted that Luffy would turn in Ace and Sabo. He would die for them and it made her sick. "Where are they? Please … give them up … save yourself from this."

"I won't say," he said quietly. The lardass punched him again. It hurt so much, but Luffy refused to give them up. Elva was talking much too softly for him to understand, but he knew she wanted his suffering to end. She pleaded for it.

Porchemy had enough; his life was on the line. His captain would not allow him another chance if he failed. He drew his sword, intending to kill the boy. He wasn't going to spill the location of his friends, so there was no reason for him to live.

Yet, before Porchemy had the chance to drive his sword into Luffy, the right wall gave in and crashed to the floor. Pieces of broken wood rained down as two young boys emerged from outside – Elva noticed that each of them carried a long metal pipe. She wasn't certain who they were, but the minute Luffy cried out his name, there was no mistaking it; Ace and Sabo had come to rescue him.

Elva watched as both of them rushed the lieutenant. The dark haired boy was caught mid swing and suspended in the air by this throat. Porchemy was unperturbed by their attempt to attack him and began to choke the boy, but he failed to notice the other one sneaking up from behind until he was bashed on the head and knocked to the ground – Sabo was evidently the blond; Ace called his name.

Sabo dove forward and lifted a knife off a crew member Ace and he knocked over when they broke through the wall, then cut the rope that held Luffy. He caught him with ease and made for the door, calling out to Ace to follow him. However, his idiot friend had other plans. He was going to stay and fight.

He's insane. Is he asking for a death wish? Elva couldn't believe the nerve of him. Ace stood his ground; Porchemy wasn't intimidated by him in the least. She witnessed Sabo toss down Luffy – to aid the reckless boy – and hurried over to him, lugging her sling bag with her. He was considerably beat up and she only hoped that she had enough bandages to cover his injuries with. That would have to wait however, because none of them were yet free of Porchemy or his men.

In their way, preventing them from leaving was the pirate who carried Elva like a sack of potatoes. He made eye contact with her only briefly as she dug through her bag, averting his attention when the sound of metal on metal rang in his ears. Elva retrieved a mini glass jar with a cork lid and popped the top, lobbing the contents at him. The powder stuck to his clothes like glue and instantly brought out a reaction from him.

"The hell is this? It itches like crazy," he hissed, digging at his skin with his short, stubby nails. The sensation only seemed to worsen.

Maple samara and ground rose hips; makes a very nasty itching powder. Elva giggled in amusement. Her ears picked up on a sound; one of metal in the dirt. She turned just in time to see Porchemy drop – a wound to his forehead. He was out cold. They beat him … they really did it.

"Oi … Elva." She jumped as Luffy clutched her leg. His eyes rolled back and instantly he was out.

Elva squealed in alarm. She bent down to survey the damage, but it was clear that he passed out from exhaustion alone. Even so, his injuries were severe and Elva needed to patch him up before they got worse. "Um … guys. A little help."

Elva turned up her nose. "I certainly will not scram. You're all beat up and if not for me then you'd all be in worse shape than you are now." She had a point; all three of them were covered in bandages. Luffy was in worse shape than the others, but Ace made it clear he didn't want her assistance – she glared back at him as she dabbed away the blood from his nose. He was going to need to keep a plug in it just to stop the bleeding. The medical supplies in her bag were not nearly enough. She huffed in annoyance. "Look … I know you don't have a reason to trust me, but if I wanted you dead I would have told Porchemy back in the forest where you were hiding."

Ace snorted, "Nothing stopping you now. One act of kindness isn't going to change the fact that you're one of them." He noted the visible recoil in her movements; something troubled her. Yet, the sharp eared girl forced a smile and continued to tend to his injuries.

"You some kind of doctor, or something? I saw you back there with that powder. The hell was that stuff anyway?" Sabo tugged at the rim of his hat, seeing the way her ears bounced up in excitement. He was too annoyed with himself to admit it was cute; the hell kind of Devil Fruit did she eat?

Elva bobbed her head. "I am … or rather I'd like to be. And to answer your question, it was simple itching powder. I learned to make it from a book." Her ears slumped down; she nearly forgot about the volume she was forced to leave behind. No chance that she'd be lucky enough to find it. The pages were probably all ruined.

"Would have taken you for a spy, honestly. Those ears you have must be an advantage for them," Sabo mentioned.

More like a curse to me, the cheerless girl thought. She took a deep breath and stood, arching her sore back. Her fingers curled around the hood of her cloak and pulled it over her head, veiling them. She was embarrassed to display them for too long; people always had questions. Elva gave Sabo a gentle smile. "I wouldn't know … been a prisoner of theirs for as long as I can remember. That building you two wrecked was my home, now I don't have one."

"Doesn't matter," Ace snapped. "You can't stay with us, not now that Porchemy will be looking for you."

Sabo shot him a glare. "You can sure talk. That's a really bad habit you have there, Ace. Saying 'I'm not gonna run' to a real pirate like that. Why do you want to die so much?" He snorted in laughter. Sometimes he didn't understand his friend. "Now that you've gone and done what you do … there's no way Bluejam's men will ever forgive us. We're gonna be chased now."

Luffy – who had been crying the entire time – finally spoke up. His voice was unclear because of the amount of sobbing he was doing, but Ace heard him clearly. He was certain the girl had too because she narrowed her bright eyes in concern for him. It really pissed him off, especially when Luffy thanked him for saving his sorry butt.

"I don't get it," Ace barked. "Why didn't you spill the secret? Those men are criminals who easily kill women and children."

Luffy dried his tears, "But if I told them, then we couldn't be friends anymore."

This shot a pang of sadness into Elva's chest. She hated that Ace was so unforgiving to the rubber boy; he certainly didn't deserve Luffy as a friend.

"But it'd be still better than dying, wouldn't it? Why do you want to be friends so much with me?" Ace couldn't understand it; no one wanted him alive. It drove him mad; hot tears burned at his eyes. "Do you know how much shit you've put me through? After finally following me all the way here."

Elva clinched up her fists. Arrogant brat, she thought. After everything Luffy went through to protect his secret, he still didn't understand. "The hell is your problem? Have you no idea the pain he went through to protect you?" Fat, warm tears poured down her cheeks. "I begged him to rat you out, but he wouldn't. He … he chose to die; he would have died for you."

"Stay out of this. And scram already. We don't want you here," Ace snapped. His cold eyes made her visibly flinch. She knew nothing; understood nothing about him. Ace was the son of a demon. He honestly didn't care what happened to him, not when the world would be so much happier without him in it.

"But I have no one else to rely on," Luffy cried – everyone went silent. "I can't go back to Foosha Village and I hate the mountain bandits. If I didn't chase after you, then I'd be alone … and being alone hurts worse than pain."

A sob tore from the girl's mouth; Ace could see that she was trying to hold back more. He felt bad for making her cry. "What about your parents?" His attention drifted back to Luffy.

"My grandpa's all I have," the rubber boy uttered.

Ace scoffed, "So if I'm with you, then it doesn't hurt … and if I'm gone … it'd be a problem for you, huh?" He saw Luffy bob his head in agreement. He was confused. "You want me to live?" Again, Luffy agreed. No way could he have meant it, but something in Ace begged him to believe the boy. So he did.

Worse than pain, he says. I've always been alone. Elva wiped at her face, hearing the two begin to argue. She knew Ace was right; she needed to leave. Bluejam was still alive, probably looking for her. She'd only be a nuisance if she stayed – the girl slid her bag onto her shoulder. There's no freedom for someone like me. Elva planned to leave and turn her back on the only taste of freedom she ever had. She turned, but a hand grabbed her wrist. Sabo was next to her, shaking his head in annoyance.

"Those two are gonna need someone to patch them up when they get like this. Idiots, I swear."

Elva was too shocked to say anything. She merely nodded and listened as Sabo brought up the matter at hand; the issue with Bluejam. Curious as she was, Elva wasn't sure how any of it related to her. She had nowhere to stay – the only option was to return to the Terminal. Yet when Ace suggested they stay with them at the home of the mountain bandits, Elva was taken back.

"Consider it payment for helping us," he mentioned as they walked through the forest towards the temporary home. "And for destroying your shack."

Elva paled; you don't have to call it a shack. A gentle smile curled her lips. "What if Dadan doesn't like me?"

"She'll like you; probably more than Luffy or me. You have more to offer her, being a doctor and all." Ace rolled his eyes. "Trust me. She's an old bag, but a fair one. Work and you will have a place to stay."

"You still want me to scram?" Elva feared the answer, yet she wanted to know.

Ace felt a pang of guilt tear through his chest. He shook his head, trying not to insult her. It was always hard to express himself. "No … might run back to Bluejam and tell him about us. Guess that means we're stuck with you." He clenched his teeth and stomped forward, leaving her to join Sabo. She had Luffy after all to keep her company.

Thank you … for this chance at freedom. A hand took her own, giving it a tug. Elva glanced over at Luffy and paled as she noticed the mischievous gleam in his brown eyes.

"Have anymore of that itching powder left?"

#one piece #portgas d. ace #monkey d. luffy #sabo #oc #pirates #friendship

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carmineclock · 6 years ago

Text

Dead Man Blues

Doc Scratch 4:28 PM

Its been an hour or so since your big meeting with the others, hopefully things have cooled down somewhat since then. You'd like to think you kept it quite calm and tasteful, despite your overall annoyance. Most of this time you spent updating your journal. You really have to do something about all these journals, its not safe to keep so many. And yet... With a sigh you set your pen aside. Time to do yet more damage control. You still think theres a chance you can get through to Trace, though perhaps you might be as bad as Clover in taht regard. Hoping is one thing, some men just dont change. Still, you make your way down to the holding cells. Perhaps your chat with Trace just needed a more dire backdrop. A broken arm and a cold concrete room with metal bars could be just what the Doctor ordered. Hoo hoo.

Trace 9:01 PM

Dire backdrop is an understatement. Your arm is long swollen, wrapped carefully in your shirt to give it some stability. You know a bit of first aid, but that is surprisingly difficult when it's your own arm and the only means you got available are what you have on your person. The new wound on your chest is just as aching, red and bloody with a hint of gold. You may have managed to pass out for a few hours, but you could hardly call that sleep, especially with that nightmare. Her body, stabbed and strung up - not Aradia's, but Nepeta's. A message to the one closest to her - Fin, angryy setting fire to your very self. The images linger, even long after you finally come to. And then the nightmare after you wake up - Snowman and how she dragged Fin in for your mutual punishment. How she used your wedding rings to violently erase the tattoo on your chest marking your love and relationships. When Scratch enters, you're wide awake, as much as you loathe it. Your mind still feels foggy and worlds away, definitely not prepared for a talk with him.

Doc Scratch 2:28 AM

You study him as you walk in, taking note of the remnants of Snowmans lesson. As graceful as she is deadly, as always. The gold makes a nice addition in your opinion. You take a chair from the nearby table and move it to in front of the bars in silence. After you moment you sit backwards with your arms resting over the back of the chair sit down normally, like a gentleman. This isnt an interrogation, or a call for confession, its just a conversation. "So, lets have it out, Trace. Whats this Droog business really all about. Dont you realize what youve cost yourself?"

Trace 9:51 AM

It never not feels like an interrogation with Scratch. You look up and watch him as he gets comfortable, then stare off to the side when he speaks. The muscles in your jaw tense, and when you reply, your hoarse and cracking voice clearly shows your exhaustion and pain. "Sir.. Do we really need to do this now? I'm not exactly the best for a talk right now and I'm really not too keen on netting me another scar for mouthing off..." Of course, you're aware he wouldn't have it any other time then when you're broken and at your wit's end.

Doc Scratch 11:27 AM

"If you're worried about your mouth, then I suggest you keep a civil tongue. I'm not concerned, though. Theres a kind of freeing honesty that cement walls and metal bars bring that can be found nowhere else. At this point, I would rather you speak freely, its just us now." Just the two of you. Man to man, or whatever Trace can be considered. Its an interesting thought, his classification may change as his DNA did. You'll have to look into that later. For now, your eyes are solely on him. His broken body, his pain. "Tell me true, Trace. I want to hear it. All of it. I wont punish you for speaking truthfully when asked. Its lies I hate the most."

Trace 3:03 PM

You give him a sour smile. You'll believe it when you see it. "What this is about, you really gotta ask?" Feels like you already talked plenty enough about this, and you doubt you got anything else to say that could placate him. Only plenty of frustration that has built up over everything, and you're way too tired to filter your words. Lets see who of the two of you is going to regret that more. "I.. am sorry that any of this ever reflected back on you, Nepeta or any of the Felt. It should never have been anything but personal. Which, I realize... there's not really a personal in this outfit, is there?" you begin, actually honestly. "This... it was nothing more than a brawl between two guys heated up on a little too much emotion. But then this bastard.. abducted Nepeta, tortured and abused her, and then me. Cause he was pissed he got decked in the face. And he kept going, provoking us again and again, paralyzing her, seducing another, hurting us, as a whole, again and again. How could you expect me to do just nothing? You've been sending a signal, to them and to us, that they can just pick members of this very house off the street and do with us what they want." You try to sit up properly to face him better, wincing from the pain shooting through your arm again. "How has this not been a war yet for fuck's sake? How come Snowman can take the god damn white queen hostage, but we sit idle when the Crew come to pick us apart bit by bit? How come Snowman can take the god damn white queen hostage, but we sit idle when the Crew come to pick us apart, bit by bit?"

Doc Scratch 6:17 PM

You sit in silence, letting him say what hes going to say. You dont blame him for his views, and if anything, this lashing out may prove beneficial to you. No matter what happens from now on, Droog will have the reminder in the back of his mind. Certainly he wont forget it. Idly, you pull at the edge of your gloves, nodding every so often through his heated speech. Well, hes partially right on certain fronts. It really should have been war by now, whether you wanted it to be or not. The crew have gotten bolder and bolder, could it be your fault? Through inaction, have you allowed the crew more purchase on this slippery slope than you'd intended? "To start off, I'll answer your question. The reason it has not been war yet is because we did not have the numbers to win a war." You let out a silent sigh. "In truth, I'd hoped to collect our full set before provoking the Crew into an all out battle. I dont know how many wars you've seen, Trace, but I've seen enough to know that as much as you and all the others may want to go to war, young men that you are, we are not in a favored position for it. The Crew will always have the love of the common people, they built this city, and those that reside here are their kin. They have the better defenses, and most importantly, they have magic. True magic, the likes of which I cant begin to match." You pause to stand, arms folded behind your back as you pace, speaking more to the open air than to Trace now.

"Snowman is an army in her own right, its folly to compare anything or anyone to her. This little brawl you've had with Diamonds, its beyond reason and a waste of resources besides. If you were provoked into action, then you're a fool, because thats what Diamonds wanted from you. But more than that, you've allowed him to take the higher ground. The city is going to bleed now, I'll see to that, but you've allowed Diamonds to make it personal. And a man on a revenge mission doesnt care for the ruin he causes. I did not take what I've taken of this city for the last fourty years just to see it burned by some self righteous bastard in an Armani tuxedo." Another sigh, louder this time. You rub your temple, pausing in your pacing to look back at him. "Provoking. Abusing. Hurting us. All of us. You're right on that front. What one of us suffers, we all suffer. It was my mistake. I took this for play, the usual violence between men at odds, petty revenge for the sake of sleeping better." “But no, this has gotten well and truly out of hand. And its too late to go back. You’ve signed us up for a a war we were not prepared for, against an enemy whose eyes you’ve spit in, and now you say it should have been sooner. Hmph. Maybe you’re right. I dont hear the heckling of those underneath me, but it would only make sense that you do. So, then, its to be war. Do you have any plans for this war you’ve longed for, Trace? Any soldiers for the army? Connections to supplies and trades? Or did you expect that all you had to do was start it, and that I would finish it?”

Trace 8:05 PM

Well, obviously, you don't have any of these. You didn't plan for a war, let alone prepare for it. This was a selfish and careless act of revenge and he knows that. You're slowly starting to realize that you feel more bewildered about Nepeta's reaction than the prospect of war. This life has already been hell and you're tired of playing along. How little you care about Scratch's achievements and goals. Still, that is not an answer to give your boss and, unfortunately, owner. You close your eyes and think. The least you owe the others is to try And if you've doomed all of you to die and burn, maybe you can at least rip a big hole into the crew. "..How much longer is he gonna have the favor of the common people if he's burning them? If he lashes out without remose and care, use it against them. With fires burning purple, it's not hard to besmirch their name. You have sucked the people dry under threat of violence and torture if they don't pay up. If you lack manpower, offer then alternatives. The crew is torching Felt warehouses. If it's supplies we lack, take theirs. We may be lacking time to prepare, but so do they. It's not too late to gain the upper hand."

Doc Scratch 1:40 PM

You stand and listen as he rattles off his ideas. Theyre not all without merit, but theyre naive, blunt, though its something you've come to expect. How could he possibly have known what he was getting himself, and the rest of the Felt, into. "Hes not burning them, he's burning us. True, it was careless, but Droog wont stay careless. Hes distraught over his daughters death, but he wont stay that way forever. He has as at least as much of a tactical mind as I do, he was built for war." You run a hand over your head, eyes closed in thought, trying not to imagine plumes of purple smoke eating their way through the Felt manor. Purple and green clash too much, it would be hideous. "I have ways of retaking the people, though its not the dregs of society that I'm worried about. All I need is a shiny coin and a loaf of bread to win their loyalty back. We need to spread out. We need bases of operation throughout the city, safe places that arent glaring green mansions on a hilltop. If the Crew want war, we have to play their game." Yes, this is sounding more like a plan every passing second. You almost get carried away, before remembering where you are. This is no time to get caught up in nostalgia. "You know, it would be much easier planning if we had our trackers back. You and Fin have skills that will be of paramount importance coming very soon. Yet, I hesitate to bring you into the fold. Why should I trust that you can stay your hand? That your loyalty to this organization will trump your lust for revenge? You've proven the exact opposite is the case. Give me a reason why I shouldn't just let you sit down here and rot until the war is over with."

Trace 7:47 PM

Hey, can't blame you for trying, considering your situation. The night in here didn't exactly allow you to do your homework. Neither does it help with the next question. You look at him, tired as you are, trying to muster up the energy to defend yourself. Can't say you're, heh, dying to prove your loyalty to him, but wasting away down here in this cell doesn't seem like a solution either. "I... can't live without this organization. And neither can those that I care about. I know that my actions didn't exactly show it, but I want to do what I can to help it succeed and keep us all safe where possible." You'd like to assure him that your thirst for revenge is well-quenched - and for now it is. But should anything happen to Nepeta and Fin in this war you've apparently summoned, things could get ugly really fast. You won't tell him that. He's probably well aware. You'd like to not have to come to that though. "You gave the reason yourself. We're good at what we can do, and without us, this is gonna be much harder to deal with. Sure, it's a risk for you, but I'd be the one out there, risking my neck. It's my blood they're after. I'm not expecting your trust. I'm sure if you send me out there again, you'll be keeping a close eye on me, until I'll maybe have proven myself someday. Not sure what else I can give you besides my word, and I don't think that's much worth to you right now."

Doc Scratch 1:35 PM

"Hmm, its true enough." You sit back down, leaning back as you think. If you were a lesser man, you might consider handing him over to the crew and suing for peace. That would only be a short term fix, though, and probably cause more problems than itd solve. Not to mention youre loathe to lose one piece of the set. "In truth, Trace, I dont blame you for your actions. Not fully. Droog brought his suffering upon himself. We're just lucky he was good enough to burn all the evidence." "At the very least you'll be going back to work soon, though as far away from Fin as possible. Perhaps Crowbar can take up the handle of your keeper. I cant have a mad dog running around doling out a childs version of vigilante justice." "For now, though, youll enjoy these accommodations. Im just having your room prepared."

Trace 1:48 PM

You should probably feel relieved at that response, could have gone much worse, after all. But the feeling of anxiety and dread keeps lingering. "I guess that's only fair." You lean back as well, which sends another pain shooting through your arm. A quiet hiss escapes you. Cursed thing. "Before you leave.. with all due respect, not trying to tell you what to do, but I don't think you'd find having me lose my arm or my life to an infection practical..."

Doc Scratch 1:55 PM

You were aleady on your way out when he makes his request. Now you pause, and turn slightly. "Does it hurt? Good. Its supposed to. Someone will be down soon to tend to it. Think on your mistakes, and how you can do better in the future." With that, you take your leave, closing and locking the door behind you.

#logs

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kpopchangedme · 7 years ago

Text

L’Opéra: Overture [Part I]

The arrival of a man from your past right before the curtain goes up leaves your mysterious music teacher unsettled and spiteful during your big debut.

Protagonists: Im Jaebum - You - Park Jinyoung

Rating: NC-17

Genre: Romance - Drama - Love Triangle - Childhood Friends - 1880s!AU

Words: 4.1k

Lyly’s note: Yes, this is the first complete chapter, but the prologues of the two male protagonists, Jinyoung and Jaebum, are already out. Check them out in the Mini-Masterlist. Enjoy ;)

L’Opéra [Mini Masterlist]

“NO-NO-NOOO!” You drop on your knees to avoid the decorative flowers flying in your direction. “I said I won’t stand things like this ANYMORE!” Meg and Raoul help you up, dragging you away from the center-stage fury.

“COGLIONE!”

She turns to point at you, blinded by rage, the dramatic hair piece standing on top of her head wobbles dangerously. “How can I sign when that stupida ballerina can’t even stay in her spot!”

You feel Madame Giry’s hand on your shoulder, you know she has your back. For once, the mistake was not yours. You were standing at your exact spot when Carlotta threw her hands back “acting” and hit you. Then she went ballistic for the tenth time since the beginning of the rehearsals. To be fair, you’re not exactly a great dancer, you never had much interest in ballet, so you make a lot of mistakes. If the fault was reproach to you by any other actor you’d assume it to be a sincere misunderstanding, but everybody and their mother knows that Carlotta is simply hysterical.

The chief repetiteur, M. Reyer, holds his temples glaring at her from afar. She’s a lot of work to say the least. The rest of the cast and dancers start to practice amongst themselves, already forgetting about the Italian diva’s anger. It’s a usual spectacle for you, but being the attention of her rage is something new. The maestro excuses himself and his orchestra, explaining they’ll rehearse on their own since they need time to get ready for tomorrow night.

Tomorrow is opening night, the première of a fresher version of the famous Opera house. At least, that’s what they are advertising; M. Firmin and M. André. It’s to make people believe that the new owners have change something. However, all they did was ask about the cost of things and wonder how to make more profits with less of everything. Ever since the tragic death of Joseph Buquet, a chief stagehead, it’s been hard to hold on to the crew and actors, they all leave. The curse of the Opera Ghost they say. Quite a reputation for a legendary Opera House, he’s the reason why they sold it to these business men and they intend to make the most of it.

You wish you could leave too, you think this as you watch Carlotta repeatedly hit a poor extra’s head with her fan. You’d leave if you’d have anywhere else to go to, but at 20 years of age, you’re an unmarried orphan with no name nor fortune. You’re lucky Alice Giry, a life-long friend of your father and in charge of this corps de ballet, remembered him enough to care for you. When Carlotta takes a step in your direction again, Madame Giry pushes you aside to face her in your stance.

“Signora, I think we should practice the aria of Act III.” She hits the floor twice with her cane to catch bystanders’ attention. “I’m sure the cast would be most delighted to hear your rendition of Elissa’s solo…”

People cheer to appease the ire of the soprano, smiling if she can witness their expression, but wincing if she can’t. Everybody who must enjoy Carlotta’s extravagant singing techniques everyday secretly dreads the prospect of her solos.

“AH!” The singer straightens her hair, giving you a last disgusted glance. “If you insist, I must oblige!” She giggles pleased, as though the aggressive turmoil everybody witnessed never was.

She turns to face M. Reyer, waving her hand threateningly to get her cue, when she opens her mouth again there’s an inaudible collective sigh.

___

“This isn’t real” Jaebum tells this to himself over and over, still, panic fills him when he hears the slow footsteps coming closer. The man comes to a stop to his left, finishing his speech. Jaebum hears people’s curious murmurs all over. He wants to recoil with every fiber of his being, but he fights it. He needs to eat tonight, he can’t be punished again. Instead of gripping to his bag, he lets the man rip it from his head, in a theatrical grand gesture.

Instantly, the light of the torches blinds him, making his eyes tear up in pain. The sudden brightness is caustic, painful and mean, Jaebum hates the cruel unforgiving light.

Somewhere to his right, a little girl lets out a strident scream, frightened by the sight of him while the others just gasp in horror. He represses the urge to cover his face and stares at the ground instead, completely frozen, waiting for his eyes to get accustomed to the intense luminosity. This isn’t new to him, he’s used to this. Jaebum knows what comes next. Just wait, a man will be the first one to start to laugh; they usually are the most amused by his show.

When one finally does, Jaebum darts his black eyes on him, wishing he could kill him with his glare. A few ladies around take a step back, afraid, but they know he can’t reach them. After a moment they join in, laughing wickedly, only then does Jaebum start to memorize every trait of their faces, what clothing they are wearing, what society they belong to. They don’t know, because they don’t care about him, but the boy never forgets a face.

“Is it human?” The little girl who screamed earlier hides behind her parents frightened when Jaebum turns her way. She stands on that horrible side, so she had the most impressive show when the man revealed him. She widens her green eyes when she realizes the monster seems to understand her words and points at him, tugging at her mother’s hand for reassurance. She looks around 8 years old, slightly younger than Jaebum, with long blond locks. He furrows his gaze, knowing he will never forget that round peachy perfect face. He mentally adds her to his list.

“Only half…” His guard sucks on his cigar while passing a hat around, accumulating small coins. “Half-human and half-demon.”

Jaebum recoils to the opposite side of the cage when the scary man glances his way, disgusted. He feels his stomach turn, if he’d eaten something that day, he’d definitely throw up at the sheer fear that fills him. He thinks that man is the only true demon in this room. Already, people are looking elsewhere, losing interest. The little girl is gone now, everybody’s moving on to the next show, forgetting they just witnessed the atrocity of Jaebum’s existence. That’s his favourite moment, when he’s allowed to pick up his bag and hide. Alone again, he sits back on the cold ground, clutching the humid cloth around his face. The comfort of the linen on his distorted features is only for a short moment though. He knows better; others will be coming tonight, they always do.

Jaebum wakes up in terror, gripping his soaked sheets. He knew this wasn’t real. The nightmares still come every night, even after over a decade. He lies back, purposefully breathing in and out slowly to calm his heartbeat. When the fear becomes nothing but a dull ache, he gets up to wash his face with cold water.

He’s used to this; Jaebum knows he won’t fall asleep again. He might as well climb out of his hole to survey the rehearsal, see what trouble you’re getting into today. He smiles, appeased.

He’s there, watching, when the lead actress accidentally slaps you across the face. Carlotta Giudicelli, that Italian bitch is on Jaebum’s list. Has been ever since she came to his Opera House to damage his eardrums with her vocal excessive and useless cades. He glares at her from his high perch, hiding in the security of the shadows above the rehearsal. She hates you, he’s almost sure of it, she always makes sure to bother you. He knows she’s not especially kind to others either, but he doesn’t care about them, you’re the only one on his mind.

That’s why he almost loses it when he witnesses the altercation. After that, she goes mad, gets completely crazy and starts yelling at everybody. You have to duck down when she throws something at your head and a male dancer helps you up. Jaebum clenches his fists, no man should touch your arms like that, it doesn’t matter if he means well. You’re not his. He lets pure anger boil his blood. If it usually scares him how powerful and tempting his hatred can get; today it doesn’t, because it’s about you.

Slowly, he gets up and lets it take over, lets it consume him. He observes as Carlotta repeatedly hits a man with her fan, he didn’t do anything, just had the misfortune to be at arm’s reach. She takes a step your way, but Jaebum isn’t looking down anymore. He’s gone, he wants to scare her, she needs to calm down, know her place. He knows what needs to be done for you.

___

“The what?!” Richard Firmin claps a hand over his mouth in horror.

“The moon, monsieur…” The nervous young stagehand grimaces. “It fell on stage during rehearsals, this morning.”

“How is that even possible?” Gilles André, his business partner, yaps at the poor boy. “Weren’t you at your post? Who’s in charge of the set?”

“Me, M. André… It’s just…” He glances at Madame Giry, next to him. “I’m new and I wasn’t there… But, the um- the P-Phantom cut the ropes.” Both owners roll their eyes in perfect unison.

“The Ghost did this…” M. Firmin starts.

“The Phantom did that…” Completes his counterpart. “We’ve been here for a while, we don’t believe in ghosts and we have yet to see this revenant!”

“Messieurs!” The young boy pales even more. “I-I’ve seen it. There is a ghost, he’s very real. He appears from thin air d-dressed in a black cloak and prowls in the shadows above the stage… His face is c-covered by a-”

“Allons, garcon!” Madame Giry interrupts him. “Nobody’s saying that what you saw isn’t real. Messieurs, be careful about what you wish to see. The Opera Ghost is not someone to be taken lightly…”

“Was anyone hurt by the… moon?” M. Firmin waves her concerns away with his hand.

“No, but Carlotta stormed out.” She purses her lips, trying to cover the smile creeping the corner of her mouth. “She said you are amateurs that can’t keep the superstitions of the locals from interfering with her art.”

“Catastrophe!” M. André presses his hands on his cheeks, shocked. “The show is sold out tomorrow night and we lost our prima donna! Should we go after her? Crawl?”

“One of my ballerina can sign like a nightingale, monsieur.”

“A ballerina?! Taking a lead role? Let’s crawl!” M. Firmin nods.

“Who’s the dancer?” M. André asks with interest and when he sees the look on his partner face, he shrugs. “You can’t possibly think of cancelling or crawling, Richard.”

“Mademoiselle y/n, she’s an amazing soprano. If you let her show you, you’ll be more than pleased.” Madame Giry presses on. “She had a rather, well… gifted teacher.”

“Your protégée?” M. Firmin turns back to her, intrigued. “The child of the famous musician?”

“Yes, I’m afraid my adoptive daughter seems to be born to sign rather than dance.”

“Yes… Well, she has been there for the entirety of the preparations…” M. André insists, hopeful.

“Very well then! Let’s hear that voice, bring her to us.” His peer concludes, resigned.

___

Meg is putting stage makeup on your face while you sit in front of the imposing mirror decorating your tiny room. The numerous candles brightly illuminates the room and stretch eerie shadows on the walls around.

“Still, it feels like she’ll storm back just in time for the show.” You tuck at a strand of your hair and your best friend slaps your wrist.

“Stop messing with my work of art!” She smiles but her voice is firm, her tone commanding like her mother’s. “I don’t think they’d let her after she ran out like that!” She plucks her lips for you to do the same and paints bit of rouge on them. “Mom says that the messieurs didn’t know what to do when they heard… They panicked until she mentioned you could do it.” You bite the interior of your cheek, can you? “I didn’t know you could sing like that, you’re amazing y/n” Meg’s praise sounds more like a reproach for hiding it from her.

“Thank you. I’m very nervous, although…” You clutch the sheer fabric of your petticoat between your fingers. “I-I’ve been practicing for a while… Meg, I don’t know if I’ll be able to do this!” Only 5 hours are left before the curtains open.

“Of course!” Meg powders your neck and chest for the tenth time, while she leans in, her gorgeous features catch the light. You’ve always been secretly jealous of her appearance, she’s everything a ballerina ought to be; petite and dainty. Everything a man ought to desire. You, on the other hand… “You definitely found your field, you’re way better at that than dancing!” She laughs, the sound pure and melodious. “Everybody was amazed by your abilities at rehearsals today. Tell me, who’s teaching you?”

“But… About Carlotta… Do you think she’ll be mad at me?” You avoid answering and watch her shrug as she works her own hair into a tight practical bun.

“Probably, I mean…” She winces. “Mom says she did it to make the new owners crawl, but they refused to cancel. She wanted to feel irreplaceable and yet, here you are, filling her shoes after just a day! But y/n…” Meg grabs your hands, earnestly. “Does her sentiment really matter if you can be out there? Center stage?”

You turn your head to look at the many flowers already piling on your small bed and desks. Meg is right. This is what you always secretly wished for.

___

“I-I’m so sorry, Vicomte…” At the apology, one of his eyebrow raises in curiosity. “La Carlotta is not here…” He eyes the young maiden in front of him like she’s speaking a foreign language.

“How is that possible?” He takes a step back to look around the dim lit stone corridor and back at the many roses he’s holding in his hand. He just wanted to visit the lead actress and tell her he’s looking forward to having dinner together afterwards. “I was told this is her dressing room, isn’t she getting ready?” He reaches in his pocket for his watch to get the time. Only an hour to go before the show. A terrible thought sprouts in Jinyoung’s mind. What have those two business fools done to his Opera? Lost his Prima Donna? His gaze widens and the young dancer he stopped to ask questions looks at her feet, nervous.

“Um- She left yesterday, monsieur.” When she raises her eyes again, he notices the blush on her cheeks and her moist pink lips. She’s beautiful, gorgeous in a more-than-perfect kind of way. Jinyoung gulps, unfortunately he doesn’t have time to flirt with a ballerina.

“Wait-” He shakes his head in disbelief. “The first Act starts in less than an hour and we don’t have a lead actress?” A pure disaster, he knew those gentlemen were ticking bombs when he accepted to become the new mécène of the Opera.

“Oh! We have an Elissa.” The girl seems taken aback by his casting question, she glances at the roses in his hand, intrigued. “I thought you were just looking for Carlotta…”

“Who’s playing her?” Jinyoung’s jaw drops, how could they have already replaced a lead soprano?

“Y/n Daae, a ballerina.” She lifts her head and smiles proudly, nearly taking his breath away. “My best friend, we danced for years together. Are those flowers for her?” Jinyoung stares for a long second, his head completely blank.

“Yes…” He breathes out. Y/n, it can’t be you. Jinyoung searched everywhere when he got back home after that. “Y/n you say? A singer?” He shakes his head. You couldn’t possibly have been hiding in here, at a mere 15 minutes by feet of his Paris residence. Impossible.

“Yes, she’s part of the corps de ballet but surprised everybody by stepping up for the role. Excuse me, monsieur, I really have to join the dance crew, now.” The girl turns to leave, but Jinyoung grabs her arm to stop her.

“Wait.” She freezes to stare at the Vicomte’s hand on her white skin, but he doesn’t care about how rude he’s being. “Daae … Is she… Maybe related to the famous violinist?”

“His only daughter.” The girl nods and tilts her head in curiosity when the Vicomte’s face drains of blood. “Do you know her?”

“I…” Jinyoung lets his arm fall back, in shock. He clutches to his roses like his life depends on it. “I don’t t-t-think I have the p-pleasure.”

___

40 minutes to go.

You take a deep breath, studying your own reflexion. You don’t look like yourself. Your hair is held back with some curls falling messily on your bare shoulders and perfectly framing your face. Your eyes look twice their usual size, expertly painted by Meg and your rouge lips stand out the most. The shimmering powder she sprinkled all over your cheekbones, neck and chest makes you appear paler, almost ethereal. The dress you are wearing is probably extremely expensive, you toy the fabric between the tip of your fingers. The only thing you hate about it is the corset, but you must admit it makes your breasts and waist look way better. A blush colors your cheeks when you think this. You shake your head to get rid of your discomfort. You were never one to catch a lot of male gazes, but it’s impossible to deny you look very attractive tonight.

Twirling to see the edges of the dress follow you in the mirror, you try to laugh to calm yourself. Is this what you’d look like if you could have married him? Would you wear shimmering gowns and attend rich, impressive dances regularly? Does he? Your smile dies on your lips. It’s not often that you catch yourself thinking about him. You usually don’t let yourself think about this sort of things.

Thinking only makes you dream of a greater life and dreaming always ends up making you even sadder. But what is tonight if not a crazy dream?

“Are you nervous?” The Voice resonates in your tiny room and you jump, taken aback.

“Yes, very.” You bite your lips, tasting the bitterness of your makeup.

“Don’t be. I’ll be there the whole time.” It pauses, hesitating, and you smile before it goes on. “I’m very proud. You’ll be amazing.” You sigh; already feeling a bit more relaxed by your teacher’s presence.

“You’ll be with me the whole time?” You ask and bring your fists to your hips, frowning while staring at yourself in the mirror. “Do you promise?”

“Yes.” There’s a hint of amusement in the Voice and the corner of your lips curl into a cunning grin. After five years, you’re almost certain it can see you. It often reacts to your grimaces or what you’re doing. “I’m…” When it goes on, there’s a new longing to it. “I’m always with you.”

You smile with all your teeth this time, you wish for it to be true. You truly want your angel to always be with you. Your lips part to confess to this, but you’re stopped by Meg’s entrance.

“Y/n, are you alone?” She whispers excitedly.

“Meg, what are you doing?” You glance around, nervous she might have heard It. “You should be with the ballet; your mom is going to kill you!”

“I know…” She hovers hesitantly between the half-open door behind her and you. “The new patron of the Opera asked to meet you…” You stop breathing, the new benefactor? Is he angry at you for taking over Carlotta’s part? “I really need to go, but can I let him in?” You nod, taking a deep breath before turning to your mirror, too nervous to look directly at the door.

It’s through the glass that you study him as he walks in, he freezes when his eyes find yours. He stands there, expressionless, unaffected and stoic under your gaze and you must hold your desk to stay up on your feet. He’s dressed very elegantly. His black hair pushed back and a crimson bow tie closes his black shirt, contrasting with his porcelain pale skin. You gasp in surprise, but he simply blinks twice before tilting his head to the side to formally greet you.

“Hi, I’m the Vicomte de Chagny, new benefactor of this Opera House. I wanted to come in and congratulate our lead actress before the beginning of Act I.” His tone is cold; an unfamiliar sound contrasting with his all too familiar features. You just stand there, silenced by shock, that precious voice of yours completely gone You’re vaguely wondering how you’re expected to sing tonight if it never returns when he clears his throat.

“Judging by your welcome, I’m assuming you weren’t aware which county the Vicomte becoming your mécène was from.” He smiles, the gesture looking calculated. “How very amusing, I had no idea the daughter of a musical genius was living her life concealed here. It’s an agreeable coincidence really, I believe my late father was a big admirer of yours.”

You gulp at the hidden bitterness in his words; this is how he chooses to act after all this time. You should be careful, aware of ranks and places. Still, against better judgement, when you open your mouth, you address him the way you would have 5 years ago.

“I see you’re still a little child, Jinyoung.”

___

You’re phenomenal, he can’t keep from smiling. He’s unsurprised by your triumph tonight, he never expected anything less from you. Still, you’re captivating him. His gaze follows you on stage, hypnotized by your everything. He watches the glitters on your skin catch the light, listen to your voice in wonder and studies the fluidity of your movements.

Tonight, Jaebum’s filled with pride. He can’t think of a happier moment in his drab life than seeing you shine like this. Shine for both of you.

His eyes flicker to the blackness of Box 5, emotions switching abruptly. He’s supposed to be sitting there, comfortably enjoying his show, but instead he sits in his usual spot above the stage. The previous owner of the Opera always left this box empty, at his demand. The new ones though, ignored his letters. It means that Jaebum will have to make sure his legend precedes him, enough for them to do as they’re told by fear of reprisals.

He saw who took his Box, he clenches his jaw, angry; that arrogant new benefactor. Benefactor, he always hated that term. Being born in a high ranked family automatically makes you a good person for spending money you haven’t gained yourself. How tasteless.

Momentarily forgetting about the Opéra, he glares at the dark Box. Who’s that man? There was once a time when Jaebum couldn’t care less about who financed his Theater. Today, however, he finds himself overflown with unhealthy curiosity. He was there when that man interrupted your conversation, hiding behind the one-way mirror in your room. He saw your expression and heard everything, but he still can’t understand what happened.

After you talked back to him, the man left claiming you needed to get ready to go on-stage. He didn’t even leave his roses behind. Jaebum’s eyes narrow. Who does that conceited aristocrat prick think he is? Barging inside your dressing room and disrupting you before your big performance. Even worse, the encounter was wholly inappropriate. Meeting a lady alone in her room is not something a gentleman should be doing, and the stupid blond ballerina left so fast that there was no one to chaperon. What if someone saw him leaving and got bad ideas. He suddenly pales; what if that’s exactly what this disgusting Vicomte was there for? Without really meaning to, he growls under his breath. It wouldn’t be the first time a mécène tries to get intimate with a lead actress. Jaebum won’t allow it, ever.

This Jinyoung embodies everything he isn’t, and he already vehemently hates him for it. He’s rich, lavish, handsome, sheltered…

But worst of all, he seems to belong to your past. You shared something and perhaps he knows a part of you that Jaebum doesn’t.

His eyes dart down to the stage again, he observes you for a long minute.

No, Jaebum won’t allow this man in your life, ever.

L’Opéra [Mini Masterlist]

#kpoptrashtag #got7 #jb #jinyoung #im jaebum #got7 scenarios #got7 reactions #park jinyoung #got7 fanfic #got7 smut #jb scenarios #l'opéra #jinyoung scenarios #got7 imagines #sfw

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itskimtaehyung · 7 years ago

Text

Always Pt. 4: Begin (M)

Ignorance is bliss

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, feat. Jimin and Taehyung

Genre: Killer!Jungkook, Angst

Word Count: 6060

Content/Warnings: Violence; Graphic depictions of death; Major character death; No smut in this chapter (sorry). Also I hope no one takes this the wrong way and thinks this has anything to do with the fandom wars, because I can assure you it doesn’t, so please don’t make this about that.

** Italics indicate a flashback within the flashback **

Summary:

You would die for him, kill for him, and everything in between.

He was as much a part of you as yourself.

You didn’t want anyone else.

It was always Jungkook.

Jungkook stood in the old warehouse. The stale smell of gasoline and ocean salt filled the air.

“Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you,” he said to the blond man kneeling before him. But these were empty threats. Jungkook had never killed someone before, only done so much as knock another man out with a punch to the jaw. But taking another's life… That's something he promised himself he would never do.

The blond struggled on the ground beneath him, attempting to free himself from the shackles that bound him. He was shirtless, his tanned honey skin peeking through a thin layer of dirt and grime.

“Are you going to say anything?” Jungkook coaxed.

Silence.

Jungkook nodded solemnly to the man standing behind the blond.

“You sure, Jungkookie?” Jimin asked.

“Yes, hyung,” Jungkook confirmed.

Jimin nodded and brought his arm up, raising the whip behind his head. With one swift motion it made contact with the man’s bare back, breaking his smooth skin. Again and again, Jimin brought the whip down.

Jungkook winced at the impact, and grimaced at the blood that began to ooze from the gashes.

It appeared that Jimin was enjoying this too much, because the whip kept coming down in loud cracks.

“Hyung, I think that’s enough,” Jungkook told him. He hated seeing the man being treated like this. He only went along with this– Jimin’s orders, administering this punishment– to save himself. But his stomach turned at just the mere thought of his best friend getting hurt.

“What’s the matter, Jungkookie? Are you getting soft on me? I’m just getting started.” Jimin smirked as he brought the whip down once more, causing the blond man to cry out for the first time.

“Hyung!” Jungkook warned.

Jimin stopped. “Fine.” He tossed the whip aside. The impact it made with the ground caused Jungkook to flinch. “Don’t start getting soft on me, Jungkookie. You can’t afford to be in this business. I mean, look what happened to Taehyung.”

“I’m sorry, Jimin-ssi,” the blond pleaded. He briefly made eye contact with Jungkook, and seeing the pain and sadness in his eyes only made the guilt weigh heavier in Jungkook’s heart.

“Sorry isn’t going to bring back the ten million you lost,” Jimin spat. He turned to Jungkook. “Now go take him to one of the cells downstairs.”

“Yes, hyung.” He grabbed Taehyung roughly by the shoulder and pushed him toward the stairwell.

“Is this your first day?” Taehyung asked as he led Jungkook down the aisles of metal cargo containers.

“Uhh. Yeah.” The truth was that Jungkook was a little nervous, as is expected of anyone starting a new job. But in this particular line of work, he knew that he couldn’t fuck up, no matter how much of a rookie he was. One mistake could cost him everything, including his life. He had to make sure he made a good first impression if he wanted to stay.

“So, what brings you here?” Taehyung cocked an eyebrow. He kept his steady pace as he passed row upon row of steel.

“Um, well. I kind of got laid off at my last job and I needed money,” Jungkook answered.

“Okay, but why Bangtan? Why not go with EXO or MX or VIXX or some other clan?” Taehyung asked.

“I know a guy who used to work with you guys. Kim Seokjin. He’s my wife’s boss.”

“Ah, so you’re married?” Taehyung’s voice was laced with nothing but innocent curiosity.

“Mhm.” Jungkook kept his answer short. He didn’t like being grilled with such personal questions after just having met the guy earlier that day.

“You doing this for her?”

He fiddled with the crowbar he was holding. “Mhm.” He hoped his curt replies would insinuate that he didn’t want to reveal too much about himself.

Taehyung kicked a rock that lay in his path, sending it off the edge of the dock and into the water. “You’re a stupid idiot,” he chuckled.

“Why’s that?”

The smile left him and his face suddenly grew serious. “Because this is fucking dangerous is why.”

“I haven’t heard of anyone in Bangtan dying yet.”

“Yeah, but it’s always a possibility.”

Jungkook already knew that. He also knew that this was stupid and he should have just looked for a normal job like any other sane person would. But somehow, he let Seokjin sucker him in with promises of money and a good life. And if he were being totally honest, Jungkook was intrigued by all of this.

The two of them came to a stop at the edge of a wooden loading dock. The short lull in conversation that had fallen between them started to feel awkward, so Jungkook felt the need to break it. “What about you?” He asked.

“What about me?” Taehyung raised an eyebrow.

“You married?”

Taehyung stood with his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. Got a wife and a couple of kids.”

“So you’re doing this for them?” Jungkook asked, leaning on the crowbar like a cane.

“I guess you can say that.” Taehyung stared off into the ocean and smiled fondly. But he quickly snapped out of it. “Let’s get to business, shall we?”

Jungkook threw Taehyung into the tiny dirt covered cell in the dark, musty basement. The cell was empty aside from a bucket and the exposed brick walls.

When he was pushed inside, Taehyung collapsed to the floor, unable to stand any longer.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked. Taehyung simply grunted in response. “I’m sorry, hyung. I’ll find a way to get us out of this.” The older man refused to look at him. “I promise, I will.”

“Yeah, but you also promised neither of us would get hurt! You told me I could trust you,” Taehyung protested, “and now you've broken that trust.”

“That wasn’t entirely my fault, though! I didn’t think EXO would show up! You’re the one that let that deal fall through. If you had only done what Jimin told you to, we wouldn’t be in this mess!” Trying to shift some of the blame to Taehyung only made Jungkook feel guiltier. He hated talking to his hyung this way. But he would try anything to stop this pain that was blossoming in his chest.

“Now you’re blaming me? You’re the one who dragged us into this!” Taehyung was in disbelief. Although this is what they had agreed upon, Jungkook’s words still hurt. And there was no way that Jimin could hear them down here, so there was no reason for Jungkook to keep up this act.

“You’re the one who said you would take all the blame, and now that you have, you’re getting mad at me? What’s up with you? I said I was sorry, hyung! What more can I do?” Up until this point, Jungkook tried not to let his fear be displayed on his face. But now for the first time, Jungkook allowed his emotions to show.

Taehyung could tell that Jungkook felt guilty, but given all the stress he had been under, he couldn’t help but feel scared and angry. “I thought he was just going to kill me! Not this too! Sorry isn’t going to fix this!” He pointed to the slash marks on his back. “Don’t you think this is taking it too far? And you went along with it!”

“I know, but that was the plan! I will make this right, Tae. I promise.”

“How, Kook? How?” Taehyung just stared up at him, pleading him with his eyes.

“I don’t know! You just have to trust me! Now keep it down before Jimin comes down here.”

Jungkook’s answer didn’t seem very convincing, but Taehyung had no choice but to put his life in the younger man’s hands. He let out a sigh. “Yeah, whatever.”

Taehyung and Jungkook stood at the edge of the loading dock, watching as a large steam ship made its way into port. All was silent aside from the lull of the waves and the screeching of the seagulls. The scent of salt and sea was strong as Jungkook stared out to where the blue ocean met the grey, overcast sky.

“There she is,” Taehyung sighed, pointing to the cargo ship that kept getting closer with each passing second. “You ready?”

Jungkook simply nodded.

When the vessel finally docked, Taehyung stepped forward to greet the loading crew. Several muscular men in grey jumpsuits lowered large wooden crates onto the land. Each crate was about half a meter tall and wide.

“These better be what we ordered,” Taehyung warned them. He took a handgun out of his waistband and cocked it. “Or Jimin will not be happy.” He waved the gun around and pointed it at each of the workers. “Jungkook, check them.”

Jungkook stepped toward the closest crate and pried it open with the crowbar. The top popped off and landed on the floor with a loud thud, revealing dozens of firearms.

“These are the .45’s,” he told Taehyung.

He picked one up and inspected the smooth, cool metal. The weight felt just right in his hand, like it was made for him. He now understood why Bangtan was one of the best distributors in the region. It was no doubt that these guns were of the utmost quality.

He opened the rest of the crates, unboxing and examining the knives, rifles, daggers, and other various assault weapons that lay inside, ensuring that they were up to Jimin’s standards.

“They look good to me,” he declared once he was finished.

At his words, Taehyung finally lowered his gun, which, up until that moment, had still been pointed at the workers. Jungkook saw each of them relax as he did so.

“Great. Now let’s load them onto the truck.”

“All done?” Jimin asked, peering over his book at Jungkook through his round rimmed glasses. They were now in Jimin’s office. Jimin sat in a leather chair behind a large mahogany desk, which was littered with paperwork and strewn with miscellaneous writing instruments.

Jungkook nodded. He looked like he could have been an accountant or professor or something, he thought. Interesting how he chose this kind of lifestyle. It certainly did pay better.

“I’ve been doing some digging, Jungkook, and I found out some bad things about your friend.” Jimin set his book down and took off his glasses.

Jungkook startled. “What do you mean, hyung?”

Jimin clasped his hands together in front of him on his desk. “You know how I have people in all areas?”

He nodded. “Mhm.”

Jimin let out a sigh. “Well one of them told me our Taehyungie is a greedy little bastard. He’s also been doing business with our rivals.”

“The EXOs?” So that’s why he had been acting strange that night. That’s why he let the deal fall through.

“Precisely. And you know how much we value loyalty around here, don’t you Jungkookie?” He playfully raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yes, hyung.”

Taehyung of all people knew that the EXOs were the most dangerous clan out there. And that their rivalry with Bangtan was no joke. Just talking about them when Jimin was in a bad mood could lead to retribution, and associating with them even in the most minor of ways could lead to losing one’s job. Whenever distribution was down, everyone knew that EXO was to blame. They had been trying to steal Bangtan’s clients for years, and occasionally succeeded. But the idea of Taehyung working with them was so far fetched, so incredibly stupid, it was like he was begging for death.

“So we can’t just let this slide, can we?” A cruel smile tugged at the edge of Jimin’s lips.

“No, hyung.” Jungkook stared at his feet. “Wh–what are we going to do?”

“We are not going to do anything. But you are.”

Jungkook perked up. “What am I going to do?” Jungkook asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. His heart pounded in his chest.

“I was originally going to kill Taehyung myself for letting that deal fall through. But after uncovering his little secret, I thought I’d want him to hurt a little more. Which is why I want you to kill him,” Jimin stated.

“What? Hyung! I can’t do that!” Jungkook had already accepted Taehyung’s fate. He knew it was coming ever since that night. Having Jimin kill Taehyung was one thing, but killing Taehyung himself? He would never be able to live with that.

“You can and you will. Make sure he gets a nice long look at you before he dies. He has to feel the anger, the sadness, the pain of having his best friend be the one to take his life. You better blow that bastard’s brains out or I will. And I’ll take out you and your family while I’m at it,” Jimin threatened.

Jungkook clenched his fists. “And what about Taehyung’s family? His wife and kids?” He asked.

Jimin scoffed. “He doesn’t have a family. They died in a car accident a few years ago. He doesn’t have anyone left. Why else do you think he’s here, always pulling stupid shit? He has nothing to lose.”

“Come on, Tae,” Jungkook persisted. “We gotta take this job. Jimin said that if we can get that ten mil, we can take a cut.”

“I don’t know, Kook. This is some risky shit,” Taehyung replied.

“Which is why our pay cut is so huge! One mil each! Think, Tae, what we could do with that kind of money!” Jungkook was nearly giddy at the thought. A whole million? Maybe then he could leave, since that would be more than enough money for you and him for a few years.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do it,” Taehyung apologized.

“Why not?” Jungkook asked.

“‘Cause I’m fuckin’ scared, man!” Taehyung snapped. There was nothing but fear in his eyes.

Jungkook was silent for a second, taken aback by his sudden honesty. “Don’t worry, hyung. You’ll have me. I’ve got your back. I know it’s risky, but I won’t let anything bad happen.”

Three weeks passed before the day ultimately arrived. Taehyung and Jungkook climbed into Jungkook’s pickup and left the warehouse under the cover of night. They each had a pistol in their pocket and back up clips in the glove compartment.

The task was simple: A new client was interested in making a deal with Bangtan. A one year contract for 10 million. Bangtan supplied the weapons, they supplied the cash. All Jungkook and Taehyung had to do was bring them a sample of the goods, have a representative of the client inspect them, and if they liked what they saw, they would meet with Jimin the next day to sign the contract.

However, there was a catch. A couple of them, actually. This client was very high profile. And what they were doing was very illegal. Since this client was constantly in the public eye, getting caught was all the more probable. One fuck up could lead to both Bangtan and a great number of government officials being locked away in prison for the rest of their lives. No amount of money, power, or diplomatic immunity could save their asses. On top of all that, it was rumored that EXO was also looking to snag this deal. Their weapons were just as good, and they were definitely more keen on using them. If they wanted it bad enough, they would not hesitate to kill to get it.

This was why Taehyung was so hesitant. This was why he was so scared. In all honesty, he didn’t care so much about his own life, but he couldn’t risk Jungkook’s life like that. However, the younger man insisted, so Taehyung might as well tag along to make sure he got out safely.

Jungkook pulled into the parking lot of an abandoned strip mall on the edge of town. Not a single car or person was in sight. The clock on the car’s dashboard read 2:15am. The client would be here in fifteen minutes.

Taehyung’s hands shook in his lap. He tried wiping the sweat off on his jeans, but it came back instantly. He was sending silent prayers up to the heavens, hoping to God that EXO didn’t show up that night. Or if they did, he prayed that it would be a chapter that didn’t recognize him.

Ten minutes later, a plateless black SUV pulled into the lot. The two men waited for the engine to shut off before stepping out of the vehicle to greet the other party.

“Good evening,” one of the four representatives greeted. Each of them wore an expensive looking suit, a black mask, and, although the sun had long since set, a pair of pitch black sunglasses.

Taehyung tried to make out who each of them were, but in the dim light, all their hair appeared to be the same color, with the same, basic, short-cropped cut.

“Good evening,” Jungkook replied, extending out his hand for the others to take and bowing in greeting. Taehyung followed suit, shaking the hands of each of the men.

“Shall we get on with things?” It was the same man that spoke. His voice was low and generic. Nothing distinguishable from any other man they’ve ever met.

“Yes, sir.” Jungkook nodded and led the men to the back of the pickup truck.

While he opened the back gate on the truck, Taehyung looked around for any sign of EXO. It was hard to see with the lack of lighting and he was getting more anxious by the second. Jungkook took notice but didn’t say anything. The air was definitely charged with some weird electricity he couldn’t describe, but he figured that it might just be all in his head.

Just when Jungkook was about to pry open the crate of semi automatics, Taehyung heard a soft thud behind him, and the telltale metallic clang of a knife being unsheathed. “Jungkook-ah. We have company,” he stated without turning around, trying to keep his voice from betraying his fear.

“Shit,” Jungkook muttered. He had hoped Jimin was wrong, that EXO wouldn’t being showing up tonight. But of course, Jimin was always right.

Before Taehyung could react, the person behind grabbed him by the neck, forcing him into a headlock. Another dark figure swooped behind Jungkook and did the same. Both of them had a knife pressed to their throats.

“You guys are Bangtan, right?” Taehyung’s man growled.

Taehyung nodded and tried to turn around to face his attacker, who was wearing a ski mask that covered everything but his eyes and mouth. They locked eyes for a brief second. I know those eyes, Taehyung thought. There was no doubt that the man recognized Taehyung as well.

“We’re going to have to ask you to leave and let us continue this deal ourselves,” the man proceeded.

“And if we don’t?” Jungkook challenged.

If Taehyung were not immobilized with fear at this moment, he would walk up to Jungkook and slap him across the face for asking such a stupid and dangerous question.

The man behind him merely laughed. “We’d have to kill you, of course.”

That shut Jungkook up, but the look on his face said he wasn’t giving up without a fight.

Taehyung knew these men, and knew they weren’t bluffing. And now that they knew that Taehyung was also working with Bangtan, things got exponentially more serious. EXO was never as welcoming as Bangtan was, if you could even say Bangtan was welcoming. He could certainly tell that the men there didn’t like him, and he knew that they would gladly and easily kill him and Jungkook if it came down to that.

“Go ahead, take it,” Taehyung said.

“What? Hyung!” Jungkook interjected. Jungkook didn’t understand. These men didn’t even have guns. If he were swift enough, he could break out of this headlock and slam the man to the ground, and he knew Taehyung could do the same.

“Let them have it, Kook.”

“But, Tae! We can take these men, easy. Put them to their graves!” It was so like Jungkook to underestimate his opponent. Although he had been with Bangtan for almost a year, Jungkook’s rookie traits still occasionally showed through.

“I said let them have it!” Taehyung’s deep voice echoed through the empty lot. He turned to the man who still had his arm around his neck and nodded. The man let go and Taehyung was able to breathe again. The other man did the same with Jungkook, who was still slightly confused.

The dark figures ushered the masked representatives away and Jungkook and Taehyung were left alone in the pitch black. When he looked up at Jungkook, Taehyung saw that he was staring at him. On his face was an expression that he couldn’t read. Something along the lines of disappointment, or pity. In Jungkook’s eyes, Taehyung fucked up. Only because he didn’t know the full story.

Taehyung got into the passenger seat and stared out through the windshield into the darkness ahead of him. Jungkook slid into the driver’s seat next to him and shut the door. “Fuck. Jimin’s gonna kill me,” Taehyung said, breaking the heavy silence. “Like I’m talking actual fucking murder here. He’s not gonna hesitate to put a bullet through me.” Not only that, but he would never be able to face EXO again.

Jungkook stared at his hands, which gripped the steering wheel. “I’ll take some of the blame. Say it wasn’t entirely you. He won’t kill the both of us, will he?” He looked questioningly at Taehyung.

“No way, man. I can’t let you do that. He would definitely kill the both of us. I’ll say it was all my fault, just let me take the fall.” Taehyung shifted his gaze to his lap.

“Why did you do it? We could have taken them.” Jungkook was clearly convinced that it was a possibility.

“That’s not something you should bet on, Jungkook.” He wanted to tell Jungkook the truth, but he couldn’t risk Jimin finding out. Sure he was going to die, but he was still scared of what Jimin would do if he found out.

Jungkook gave him a confused look. To him, those men didn’t seem like much of a threat. But he didn’t know just how deadly they were.

“Just trust me, okay?” And let me take the fall. I’ll deal with the consequences.”

“What? No!” Jungkook protested. “What about your family? I can’t let you do that to them.”

Taehyung finally looked at him. “It’s either me or both of us! Either way, I’m going to die. So, please, Jungkookie. Save yourself.”

The younger man nodded in resignation and started the engine. The two of them drove off into the darkness, finally heading home after a long, disappointing night.

Jungkook pulled into a clearing in the middle of the woods. The moon shone bright and full through the branches of the trees. As he got out of the car, he nervously placed a hand over his pocket, feeling for the handgun that lay inside. All was quiet except for the chirping of the crickets and the crunch of the dead leaves beneath his feet.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Taehyung asked, surveying his new surroundings. “The woods seem like a strange place for a deal.”

Jungkook reached into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the gun. “That’s because we’re not here for a deal,” he said, trying to keep his voice as even as possible.

Taehyung turned towards him. “What do you mean?”

He drew the weapon from his jacket, and pointed it at Taehyung, turning off the safety with a click.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Taehyung exclaimed.

“I’m sorry, Tae. Jimin’s orders. You’ve fucked up, and he can’t let that slide.”

“I guess I should have seen it coming,” Taehyung sighed. “The sick bastard couldn’t do it himself, could he? He had to have you do it? Thinking he could take one last stab in my gut before he offed me?”

Jungkook’s hands shook as he gripped the gun. “Why did you lie to me?”

“About what?” Taehyung asked.

A tightness developed in his chest. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears. “About your wife. And your kids. Jimin told me what happened.”

“Ah. So you know.” Taehyung shifted his gaze to his feet. He dug the toe of his shoe into the dirt, swirling patterns with his foot.

“Yes. Why did you lie?” Jungkook wanted to know the whole truth, but at the same time was afraid of it. Ever since he found out from Jimin, he’d been thinking of ways to bring it up to Taehyung. Now seemed as good a time as any.

Taehyung looked up to meet Jungkook’s eyes. “I never lied. I said I was doing this for them. I never said they were still alive. They’re still with me.” He placed his right hand over his heart. “In here.” Tears started welling up in his eyes. “I work my ass off for them. Everyday I risk my life to show them that I could have been a good father, if only God gave me the chance.” His shoulders slumped as he let out a sigh. “I was a shit dad in the beginning. Sure, my kids were my pride and joy, and I loved them more than anything in the world. I didn’t think it was possible to love anything as much as I loved them. Still don’t.” The corner of his mouth tugged up in a half hearted smile which immediately faltered as he thought back to his family.

“But when the oldest one started school, I got laid off from my job. So, I hopped around from place to place, working wherever people would hire me. I hardly ever saw them. I was too busy either working, or trying to find a new job. Then I met Jimin, and he promised me money, luxury, a bright future for my family. I couldn’t say no to that. But after a while, I got greedy. Bangtan wasn’t enough, so I joined EXO. Double the income. I thought it was one of the best decisions I ever made. I finally had my family back. But not long after, the accident happened.

“People grieve in their own ways. Some turn to drugs, alcohol, whatever it takes to numb the pain. I was different. I turned to another form of self destruction. I told myself I was doing this for them, but really I was just selfish. I started doing more reckless shit, thinking I could make a shit ton of money and make them proud, or I would get killed and be able to join them, wherever they are. Although, I think I’m set for hell rather than heaven at this point.” He chuckled dryly.

“Jimin also told me that you worked for EXO while you were working for us. That’s why he ordered me to kill you. As your last punishment before you die,” Jungkook explained.

“Ah, that seems like something he would do,” the older man mused.

Jungkook closed his eyes, comprehending Taehyung’s story. He took deep breaths, trying to remain calm, but his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. “My wife is still alive.” His voice trembled as he spoke. “And I don’t have kids yet, but I want to someday. And if I let you walk out of here alive, that’s never going to happen.” He opened his eyes and locked them with Taehyung’s. “But please know one thing: I don’t want to kill you, Tae. I know if I do, I’ll have to live with the guilt for the rest of my life. And that’s a big price to pay. But I have to do it.”

Taehyung gave him a sorrowful smile. “I know. And it’s all my fault. I’m sorry, Jungkook. Which is why I’m going to make it easier on you.”

Jungkook lowered the gun slightly. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, Taehyung brought his hand forward, which, up until now was in his jacket pocket. In it was a pocket knife, small but undoubtedly sharp. Before Jungkook could process what was happening, Taehyung lifted the knife and ran it across his throat in one swift motion, leaving a deep gash spewing thick crimson.

Jungkook dropped the gun as Taehyung fell to the ground. He lurched forward, dropping to his knees, trying to catch Taehyung, who was choking and gasping for air.

“Tae! Tae!” Jungkook shouted as he held onto Taehyung’s convulsing body. “I’m sorry I made this mess,” he cried.

“It’s okay.” Taehyung gurgled as the blood filled his lungs. “I forgive you.” He coughed and blood spewed out of his mouth and dripped down his cheek into Jungkook’s lap.

“I forgive you, too,” Jungkook croaked. He clasped his hand over his hyung’s neck, trying to stop the bleeding. But he knew it was futile. Through the blurriness of his tears he saw that Taehyung was smiling.

“I get to see them again,” he sputtered.

Jungkook let out a sob. “Yes. You get to see them again.”

With a strangled gasp, Taehyung took one last breath before going slack in Jungkook’s arms. Jungkook held Taehyung close to his chest as he wailed.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, hyung!” He screamed.

When the tears subsided, Jungkook pushed himself up and dragged Taehyung over to the truck. He opened the pickup bed and hoisted the body into it. He stuffed him into a black garbage bag and then got back into the driver’s seat.

Jungkook sat there, resting his head against the steering wheel, trying to breathe. “You told him you would get him out,” he said to himself. “Technically that’s what you did.”

“Holy shit,” was all you could say. You sat next to Jungkook on the bed, leaning back against the headboard.

Jungkook was leaning forward, his hands clasped in front of his mouth. He didn’t dare look at you, and simply stared straight ahead, waiting for you to say something else.

“Holy shit…” You repeated. You couldn’t form any words. Only Jungkook’s words were swirling around in your head at this moment. After a brief pause you asked, “So you didn’t kill Taehyung?”

“Ah– Well...” Jungkook uttered. “No, but technically yes… But also, I would have. If he hadn’t…” He fumbled with his words. “I’m the reason he was supposed to die, so yes, I did kill him. But am I the one that delivered the lethal blow? No, that was him.”

You know that the normal response to this would be relief. Relief that your husband, the love of your life, was indeed not a murderer. But in actuality, you were the opposite of relieved. Because if he didn’t kill Taehyung that would mean…

“So I’m the only murderer in this family?” Your heart started beating faster and your palms became clammy.

“Y/N…” He turned toward you and placed a hand on your back, rubbing slow circles to soothe you.

“Jungkook, answer my question. Am I the only one between the two of us who has physically taken someone’s life with their own hands?” You begged him with your eyes to tell you it wasn’t true. As sick as it sounds, you didn’t want to be alone. Even if that meant your husband killed Taehyung.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he uttered.

“Oh, god. I think I’m gonna be sick.” You get up and rush to the bathroom, feeling that tomato soup you had for lunch creeping up your throat.

Jungkook ran after you and held your hair back as you kneeled over the toilet and heaved, swiftly expelling the contents of your stomach until there was nothing left but an empty ache in your abdomen. Your soup sat like blood in the toilet. Tears streaked down your cheeks, taking with them your eyeliner and mascara in black smudges.

Jungkook let go of your hair and rubbed your back in an attempt to soothe you. You sat on the bathroom floor gasping for air, desperately trying to fill your lungs, but feeling like it wasn’t enough.

You were finally able to catch your breath after a little while, but you were by no means calmer. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” You hissed “I make enough to support the two of us!”

He was taken aback by your sudden outburst. “I– I don’t know! I just feel like you always expect me to be perfect, but at that time I felt like such a failure! Ever since we were teenagers, you painted this perfect image of me in your head, and since then all I’ve done is try to live up to that image.”

“It was not your fault! You should have just come talk to me! I would have helped you find another job!” You argued.

“I was too scared of disappointing you.”

That got you quiet. You felt so horrible. All this time, Jungkook was just trying to be the man that you wanted him to be. You didn’t realize how much pressure he was under to be a good husband. You suddenly remembered the night he proposed. You remembered how your parents didn’t approve of the engagement, and you guessed Jungkook has since been trying to convince you and your parents that it was the right choice.

With the guilt weighing down on you, you were desperate to change the subject. “You were gone for a whole year. Where did you go?”

“Dubai,” Jungkook answered.

“What did you do there?” You asked.

“First and foremost I was hiding from Jimin. I had no idea he would come after you, Y/N. I’m so sorry, you have to believe me.” He reached up to brush a strand of hair out of your face.

You weren’t in the mood for his apologies, you just wanted answers.

“What else did you do there?” You pried.

“I met with one of our manufacturers that’s based in Dubai. I told them about how horrible Jimin was. That they should stop working with him. Of course they said no. Money is a powerful thing, but it was worth a shot.” He sighed.

“Is that why we honeymooned there? So you could conduct business on the side?” You asked, suddenly remembering that morning he disappeared.

“No. I didn’t get mixed into this shit until we were married for about a year.” His voice was soft and gentle, as if he were a father consoling his child. “I spent the rest of the time meeting with other distributors, ones with power, to try to convince them to help me take Jimin down. They all knew about Jimin, and they all thought I was stupid for wanting to try. He had more money than all of them combined and they knew they wouldn't stand a chance. But yeah, I did some work with them when I was there.”

“What about that morning I woke up and you were gone?”

Jungkook looked past you at the wall, trying to recall what you were talking about. After a pause, the memory finally came back to him. “Ah, like I said, I was out getting breakfast.” His eyes searched your face, waiting for your response.

“After a whole year, why did you finally come back?” You asked meekly.

He placed a hand on either side of your cheeks. “Because I missed you and couldn’t bear to be apart from you any longer.”

He tried to meet your gaze, but you couldn’t look at him. Instead you stared at the tiles on the floor.

“I did all of this because I love you,” he added.

I love you. Just those three short words were enough to stir the ache in your chest. You looked up at him and met his eyes. Even in the soft bathroom lighting, even with the bags under his eyes and his brows knitted in worry, he was so beautiful, it made your heart hurt. You loved Jungkook. That would never change. No matter what happened, no matter what hell he put you through, that would never change. Like Hyolyn said, this was unconditional love. This was forever. This was always.

A/N: So yeah... Now you know.. Feel free to scream at me if you need to.

Also sorry again this took so damn long. This was by far the most difficult chapter to write.

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